Whenever they don't have to be down, get them up (preferrably with a nice, soft pillow under them).
Don't do anything to jeopardize your wonderful time with daughter and granddaughters. Forget about the house. Forget about THINGS. Concentrate on having the time of your life.
I always wanted a daughter. I wouldn't trade either son, but I always wanted a daughter. Somewhere along the way, I decided to wait for a daughter in law to love. Or maybe some granddaughters. So far, the hopes haven't been fulfilled. (I still have hopes about my older son's girlfriend who would come with a grown grandaughter candidate for me and who knows how many great grandchildren somewhere in the future.)
But, the message is clear. Get those feet up. During your trips, anythime you're not driving try to figure out a way to raise them up, too. And WALK, WALK, WALK during your rest stops. (Even if it is only to pull over and walk around the car a few times, I have to get out every hour or so. Try it. You'll be amazed at how little it adds to your trip time and how much it adds to your condition when you reach your destination.) So often, we just pull into a fast food place, walk to the restroom, get our food, scarf it down, and climb back into the car. Fidget on your feet. Walk back for the napkins. Then go back for the straws. S-t-r-e-t-c-h your body when you stand up and again right before you climb back into the car.
Another thing: Watch out for that Premarin Cream. It's the first form of estrogen that a doc will suggest when menopause calls. (It hits your vaginal walls and potentially has fewer side effects than a pill.)
I got a horrible rash from the Premarin Cream. Needless to say, that did not help our bedroom time. You're better off using KY jelly if you need lubricant.
Dr. Starlanyl's books talk about sexual pain. See if you can get a copy through the library.
Along with the cheat sheet, bring a friend or family member. I learned a long time ago that I had to go to the doc's with my husband, because he was to busy shooting the bull to listen to what the doc was telling him. He never knew when the doc changed his meds unless it meant carrying a new scrip to the pharmacy.
With fibrofog, I am worse than hubby. I bring my list of questions. I write down the answers. I also try to have hubby or son or friend with me. Two pairs of ears are much better than one.
Our family physician has started handing out a summary of the visit, too. It includes any recent lab results, any change in meds, any diagnoses, anything we discussed.
You better believe I save those summaries!
If you consistently have trouble talking to a doctor, you are talking to the wrong doc. Anyone who doesn't believe in fibro should never treat it. Anyone who doesn't listen to a patient does not deserve to treat that patient. At least that's my take.
Did anyone notice? I am now Bette_K. Somehow, I got logged off from EVERYTHING.
I had to open new accounts with Yahoo, WebMD, and will have to do the same everywhere else.
God only knows where my Email has gotten to.
This has been quite a week. Monday were the nerve blocks. Tuesday, of course was spent in bed. Wednesday was a bunch of errands and grocery shopping.
But Thursday was the kicker. Went back to the same Buffalo doctor who inserted the electronic nerve stimulator (a pacemaker for pain) and found out that he cannot move my electrodes so that they block the spinal pain at my waist instead of 2-3 inches lower. He has to remove the whole thing. Then I have to heal. Then, if I want to, he can put in a whole new ENS where he should have positioned it in the first place.
It is 100 miles each way to Buffalo. Most of the drive is on narrow roads with speed limits way below 55. And of course it was raining all the way up there. My good friend and neighbor came along even though it meant leaving at 6:15 Thursday morning. We waited and waited in the doc's office. (It's the kind of place where everyone has a nine o'clock appointment.) Then we hit the Galeria for some serious shoe shopping at Easy Spirit. (It's hard to find 8 1/2 double wide sneakers anyplace else!) We left the mall with 2 pairs of well-fitting shoes each and full food court bellies.
Then we headed cross-country to try to find the little country cemetery where my friend's sister was burried. Instead of taking the Thruway, we opted for the GPS's "shortest route." There we were--time after time--at country crossroads with the GPS conking out every other turn because of the rain. Driving along roads that did not make it to real--printed page--maps in pouring rain with no idea of where we were was an adventure.
We found the cemetery and the gravesite. Then we found a real highway and drove another 1 1/2 hours home. My back had been sore when we left the mall. By the time we got home at 5:30, it was screaming.
So, I spent another day in bed only to find the computer had forgotten this nice lady who paid it's monthly HughesNet fees.
Thank you all for letting me vent. No one else would. That's why we need each other so much. We are family.