The Bounce Back Dilemma

in Silver Bloggers2 months ago (edited)

The Big Guy and I have a new saying, "RSP ALERT!"
RSP= Random Shooting Pains
He's been experiencing them as he ripens on the vine of life, or ...well, gets older. From time to time, we'll be minding our own business folding laundry or opening mail and for no apparent reason a sensation that is similar to getting speared with an ice pick somewhere on the body will happen. Then, as quickly as the pain arrives, it leaves. Typically lasting for no more than 30 seconds, at its worst.

I've been experiencing them for as long as I recall breathing and I believe we all have, to some degree. These human bodies of ours need a great deal of maintenance, and I've been a crazy rodeo rider all the way to flinging myself off cliffs with two fiberglass sticks strapped to my feet. I think they're called skis.
I've had an active life. Hiking, boating, baby making, and more.


There I am with two of my teenagers. Way back when. I remember that day, Fourth of July 2007. I wasn't feeling so good, as I recall it. I should have embraced that kind of "not feeling good" a bit more.

And, all my life I've had more than my fair share of illness; weirdness that medical science has had a difficult time explaining. If I had some rare blood type or even a mixed heritage in ancestry, that might account for some of the strange rashes caused by food allergies or extra teeth, among other things. For instance, I have a supernumerary nipple that I thought was a weird mole under my right breast. If we were living in the dark ages I'd be shunned as a witch, burned or stoned for certain. We all know I'm a kitchen witch, and I light candles while chanting to a number of hidden realms, but that's not my point.
My point is a rare condition called Allodynia. Essentially it's a response from the body and brain that says, "OMG! Why am I on fire?" when touched. Over and over. It's excruciating, and I've learned to live with it. It tends to be most extraordinary on my back, thus random hugs are a no-no. I quit shaving my legs a long time ago. Bonus points for my European hubby. He doesn't care.


That picture was on my 50th Birthday. Seven years ago. We went home to Denmark, and I think that was the last time I felt ...amazing? At least on a birthday.
Again, there is a sense of remorse for not embracing that sense of "amazing".
When I was diagnosed with Eppstein-Barr in my 30's, that illness escalated into such a mountain of other illnesses that my doctor kept a separate file and I agreed to be a pin cushion for the Mayo Clinic at one point in exchange for better health care, as my insurance was limited.
They kept "trying" to diagnose my particular brand of illness.

Some gentle readers here may remember the popular television series "House" from the early 2000's. There was a saying that became popular at the time, "It's not Lupus" -- unless, of course, it was. From "know your meme (dot) com"

The phrase was coined when the younger doctors were suggesting a case of lupus, when they couldn't figure out what was wrong with the patient. Because lupus usually takes several years to be diagnosed, Dr. House usually says "It's not lupus." or "It's never lupus."

I cannot tell you how many times I was tested for lupus.
Chrones. Lyme. Psoriatic Arthritis. Multiple Sclerosis. Sjogren's. Morgellons. Rheumatoid Arthritis.
Myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS) is what they've formally diagnosed me with, accompanied by "Allodynia".
I tell myself that I have "All or didn't ya?" Because it makes me laugh, while helping me to remember the names of things. Like my dog. For those of us who have children, do you ever find yourself calling your dog one of your kid's names instead of the name of the dog?
I do.

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Which brings me to the next point: Brain Fog.

I often wonder if I'd be better at running the world than the current leaders of the planet, because if I didn't have this Fog in my Head, I would be your fearless leader. Not that I'm smarter than most people, I'm just clever. But I lack the ability to recall much of anything without a great deal of effort these days. My short-term memory has suffered, because (now brace yourselves) I'm not just a former pin cushion for the Mayo Clinic, but I have been diagnosed with ADHD, complex PTSD and I'm an HSP. How the hell did I remember entire scripts when I was acting?
How did I run restaurants? Or show up for my family? HOW was I such a kick ass broker once upon a time?

Welcome to the pretzel machine.

What all of this means is that I've reached the tender age of 57 with most of my equanimity intact and while I won't pretend I'm not something of an optimistic misanthrope, I do find myself becoming slower these days and people are annoying, as well as exhausting to be around. That's a new thing for me.
Honestly, I did not expect this to happen.
People would often point at me (in the past) and say, "You need the Taj Mahal built in a day? Call Sarah..."
I was on every committee and created a few of my own. Let's not forget I'm a counselor. A damn fine one too.

This is the first time I've written extensively about any of this. I did not want to become one of those people whose health is their hobby, or who had a story to match everyone else. Furthermore, if one more person tells me that I need to "follow this regimen" or "do that thing for your adrenals" it won't be pretty.
My habits and my food intake are stellar. I do stay active, I meditate, and I don't drink or do drugs. I don't even smoke marijuana even though it's legal in my section of the USA.
Pain medication is something I avoid too. As in when I take Advil, I feel guilty. As if I'm cheating myself by freezing my fascia. I am.

But I'm slower. Moodier. Less tolerant.
Socializing is a pain in the ass, for a multitude of physical and mental reasons which is why I adore HIVE and blogging more. That 19 year old woman in that picture below would not recognize me. Or, maybe she would.

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But ...I have changed. I've become an older woman, and just yesterday I told The Big Guy I was afraid we were aging too fast. I muttered "let's not get too old, too quickly" as we groaned going up the stairs after a short binge of weeding in the garden. God willing, I have another 30 years in me for some quality living, right?
And that's my fear. Not of dying, no. It's the "quality" of life I'm seeking.
I'm far more tired than I want to be, and doing less. I know it's not "my fault" and I'm not being "lazy" but it feels like I am at fault. It feels like I'm being lazy. I remind myself that I can "feel" any emotion however and whenever I want to, even if it doesn't reflect the truth of a situation.

Which brings me to my final point.

I've made such a fuss in the past about not making a fuss, that it's caught up with me. The truth of my situation is that after getting over COVID last summer and then a new round in the Winter? I'm not bouncing back as fast as I have traditionally. I am slower. It's taking me some time to wrap my head around it, and then to make adjustments in my life that make me grumpy because I'm unable to do as I once did.
There was a very real part of me that wanted to defy the statistics as I once did too. The simplest answer is typically the most correct: I'm getting older.

I apologize in advance for failing to be your next world leader. I do believe in reincarnation though, so I'll just take notes now. And share them here. Maybe we can all learn together?

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Thank you, so much, for reading and I always welcome your comments!
Take a look at @Labyrinths when you have a moment, and join our labyrinth community on HIVE if you're interested. We just started it, so there's not much going on yet, but if you're ever in the need for a "down to earth" (but not too earthy) psychic, you can find me online at Brigid's Aether.

Any images and graphics (unless noted) are mine.



I am amazed by your medical system, my doctors after confirming I don't have some expected common thing simply stated that they have no help for me, that it is possibly some sort of the metabolic issue of an unknown origin, and casually left me to a slow painful death. I lit received no treatment of any kind besides monitoring, painkillers, and a few bottles of infusion. Eventually, I found out what is wrong on my own and I think of my experience with the hospitals as deeply disappointing.
Unlike a complete lack of any fuss about my issue, whenever somebody sneezed we all at home had to be tested and quarantined regardless of the test results - and it all ended up in us having COVID once recently without any symptom besides a headache.

I hope you feel better soon.

Well, in a similar sense, the same sort of thing happened with me. My fortune changed when a PA (Physician's Assistant) recognized that my t-cell (white blood cell) count was off the charts. Contrary to most people with auto immune diseases, mine seemed to go the other direction. He had been a medic in Viet Nam and recognized that I had similar symptoms to troops in the jungles. There was an epidemic of Eppstein-Barr during the Viet Nam War, which led to many of our men coming home sick once they had been discharged.
That was the key to opening the door to my wellness journey.

I too, have had to do a great deal of research on my own, and steered many of the clinicians I was working with to answers.

The whole COVID element is just ridiculous too. Thanks to the 'vid, no one seems to die from heart disease, emphysema or the flu. It's always the 'vid now. /end sarcasm

As someone who has had it twice now though? It's no fun.

Boy can I relate to this! It took 10 years and countless doctors and testing before I had a dx. At one point I was told ME/CFS too. Just Lyme disease, neurological variety.

I had covid pneumonia in January and I am lucky if I can do stuff for 4 hrs a day. Just so tired, and don't EVEN mention brainfog. That was my first and most severe symptom starting when I was 20, 46 years ago.

Yup, can so relate to the slow down thing and having a hard time adjusting to it....

It feels great having people who CAN relate. It's such a bummer that we do, though, yanno?
However, the aches and the pains we don't talk about in the end might be our greatest achievement. That, and surviving while occasionally thriving too. One of my peeves are family members that tell me I have a "low pain threshold". Please. While I wouldn't wish what I go through on anyone? They wouldn't last a day. So I smile and just nod my head, "Yep. That's me. Just a softy."

Said no-one, in my brain. Ever. 😜

I don't have so much pain, but my husband did. One just never saw him on the bad days. They had no idea....

I was actually pondering the whole "recovering from the 'vid" issue earlier, and the fact that it somehow feels like I never made it back to more than 95% or 98% of where I was before. Maybe a bit like a car battery that gets drained completely down to zero and then recharged... even though it all works, and it still starts your car, it will never hold quite as much charge as it did before it was drained...

Maybe that's not a good analogy.

Like mowing the lawn, today. Got it done, just the same as always. But — not counting distractions of removing piles of weeds and dog-doo first — it probably took me 10 minutes longer than it would have, 5-10 years ago.

We'll just find our rhythm and pace as the years pass... and make that our version of the perfect life!