My grandmother suffered from severe arthritis, so associating my pain to what I always observed in her, it made me wonder. I was still in my 20s, but could I have it too? I went to a doctor of internal medicine, and he did a series of tests, including the blood test that could possibly detect whether I had Rheumatoid Arthritis.
When that test came back clear, he revealed his suspicion from the start, and his ultimate diagnosis. He told me that I have Fibromyalgia.
I knew very little about it. He explained that where arthritis is an auto-immune disorder that deteriorates the cartilage in our joints causing pain due to bone rubbing against bone, Fibromyalgia is an inflammation of our connective tissue in the space between one joint, to the next.
As I age, my Fibromyalgia has gotten worse, rather than better. So, as I ache, and as I pain, and as I groan, and as I moan, I naturally come into contact with others who hurt, and we compare notes and solidarity, and prove the old saying true. Misery really does love company.
Like the conversation I had with my friend Stephanie this morning. It was our conversation, in fact, that inspired this post in the first place. After we talked about hurting bodies, we did something that might seem unusual to some people who have chronic pain. We walked.
If there is anything of value that my experience has allowed me to learn about Fibromyalgia that I might want to share with anyone else who suffers, it would be this: Move. Your. Body.
It is so tempting to curl up in a ball and stay in bed, or on the sofa when you hurt but for me, that plan would be the kiss of death. In fact, if I want to guarantee a higher degree of pain, I can be sure to get it if I stay in bed, or laze around. The stiffness increases. The headache worsens. And the depression, which most times goes hand-in-hand with Fibromyalgia, is harder to fight off.
The depression part of it really is interesting. It is hard to know what came first. Did the depression bring on the pain? Or did the pain bring on the depression?
But, rather than sit about wondering, I have to move. Get out. Stay active.
This is challenging for me, because for whatever reason, I absolutely hate to exercise. I was raised to enjoy the outdoors, and prefer being outside to being inside, I love going places, seeing things, and getting out. But to go out for the purpose of exercise isn't so much fun, and I will put it off like the champion of procrastination that I am. Even knowing what I know about my need to move my body. I am my own worst enemy.
So, when I got wind that the PTA moms were walking every morning, I shamelessly crashed the party before I could talk myself out of it. It's been awesome, too, I must say.
I love the way I feel the rest of the day. Yes, my nearly-atrophied muscles have been a little sore, but it's a different sore from the familiar soreness of Fibromyalgia. And I know that the muscle soreness will subside, and that as a result of the exercise, the Fibromyalgia pain will, too.
And as a side-benefit, maybe my jeans will be less uncomfortable when it's cold enough to get back into them again.
Sometimes the best therapists for all of us is a good group of friends. And sometimes the best therapy is getting out and doing something active with a good group of friends. I can attest to these truths, because the exhilaration I've received from walking with these ladies has bolstered me, helping with stress, and helping to keep my anxiety at bay. It's like a win-win-win-win on more levels than I have the desire to type the word win.
So watch out, PTA Mamas...the walking shoes will be laced onto my feet come Monday. I'm looking forward to another great week!
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