Magic in a Bottle- A Holiday Craft

It’s a strange and turbulent time of change for me; my family is moving again over the holiday and I am trying to keep myself calm at the center of the storm. 

This is when the true pain of being a Myalgia Mommy hits and here is the fun of the the blog. I'm all about magic and recycling. 

It’s time for a quick and easy Holiday craft to keep the monsters busy. I have a six year old and my Little Man will be 3 soon. I am hosting the kindergarden at our house for a special farewell party and trying to be present to their little needs. 

I’m leaving Niger after a year that I’m sure I will be processing the rest of my life. Over the course of this year I became involved in volunteering at a local orphanage. Initially, I went alone as part of the group from the US Embassy that makes a monthly visit. Other members of our party brought their families and inspired me to do the same.  This past weekend my entire family as well as our friends helped me prepare an activity for our last visit to see children I have come to know and love. 

The craft we did was inspired by MySweetArts mommy and me class years ago. (There is no recycling in Niamey, but I have been conditioned to sort my things so I have a closet full of bottles for crafts)(My recycling closet needs to be it’s own blog)(It’s actually more of a small room). These are their projects. 

The classes lifted me up at the time and we have carried the bottle full of glitter that Mimi made in class years ago with us to Africa. 

Something I made a point of saying was that it was possible to do the same craft here with the children in the orphanage that my friends came up with for a class in Chapel Hill. I sourced everything locally. All children deserve the chance to make a bottle filled with magic at the holidays. 

For the toddlers and youngest we filled plastic bottles with pom poms, glitter, small metallic trees and stars then filled them with water. When you shake the bottle it glitters and the pom noms float at different speeds. 

We brought and shared a Santa snow globe and the older children made fake snow with an instant science kit. Then they grew crystals to keep them busy. We used a kit but there are wonderful sugar crystal tutorials to follow.

The craft was snow globes. For older children we had science kits with instant grow crystals and balls that expanded. 

For those that were ready to craft it was the magic of glitter, something shiny, more glitter, some water and a small animal. 

I told the kids I sat with that the gold glitter was a sandstorm and Africa was full of Holiday magic. We should all make wishes on stars. 

Over the weekend my children first made the snow globes I found at Target on my medical visit (I should really blog about going home to North Carolina every three months to see my doctor…it’s complicated.) Then we separated and cleaned our bottles for the activity with the children. We had to soak labels off bottles a friend brought over, it was a group effort with our kids being busy and engaged. 

On the day of the activity we had a large group of volunteers. Many friends and some teachers accompanied  us on the trip and we spread magic and glitter everywhere. 

In one spilt bottle and a poof a dozen children were covered in golden specks. 

One of the kindest men I've ever met, who runs the REMAR center and has adopted many children of his own asked us to please stop with the glitter. 

Wherever you are reading this, happy holidays. I highly encourage you to put some glitter in a bottle or make a snow globe with your kids. It’s an easy win. I should be packing. 

Blessings, 

ALJ 

P.S.  The magic part of the bottle was in the glitter. I was unpacking with our pre-school teacher-who came on the trip to see our kids- and would be repeating the snow globe activity. She had been surrounded by children asking for more glitter and we carefully poured it out, watching it spill across the water, or fill the little bottles. Only adults could hold the glitter. We filled the 70 bottles we brought the children and the jar of glitter is still half full…

My Cheeseburger

We all must be careful with the words we use. Words have power. Don't get me started on politics…It is also this permanence that kept me from writing.

Of all the aspects of my narrative to focus on, the fact that I’m doing it while I have a headache or am in pain is not what I want to highlight. It’s like the card that says “Ginger Rogers did it backwards and in heels…” I stopped writing this blog because I didn't want my definition of myself to include any diagnosis or conversation about my health. It is what it is.

I haven't updated the blog in two years because I have been quite undone…by a son.

He is amazing and the third child was the one that pushed us over the edge into constant chaos. We call him Cheeseburger. It was the only thing I craved while pregnant.…I was a vegetarian for years so there was particular irony when I heard the siren song of a burger.

As a third child he exceeded our population growth limit and I’ve been mindful and tried to use cloth diapers and as few resources as possible. So, I’ve legitimately been busy.

I told my neurologist that if you took the World Health Organization Disability Test and replaced the word “Disability” with “Children,” you get a pretty high score. At least I do. I’ve been overwhelmed by my children and recognize that I am blessed that the little monsters are healthy and bright enough to do so.

This blog continues to get readers despite my inactivity in part because I said that Myalgia Mommies are very different from Chronic Babes. (One of my favorite communities and is AMAZING!) To me Chronic Babe is a great resource for reminding you will get through this and be adorable.  This blog was meant as a place to go when you felt like "on top of all this pain I have to parent!" the goal is to be an entertaining distraction and as a reminder that you are not alone. My third pregnancy made me face exactly what it meant to be a mother knowing my limitations. I suffer from chronic daily headaches, fibromyalgia and anxiety. Children are triggers for all of these conditions. A child is a selfish, expensive decision (or blessing!) that alters the course of your life. They are also the source of pure magic.

I really wanted that cheeseburger.

I also feel like I need to stop mentioning that I have these chronic debilitating conditions because I am clearly still getting things done. Last weekend I went to a Mothers of Multiples tag sale. Those amazing women had multiple babies of the same age and were part of a volunteer club, they were all up, there and going through the motions.

There was a video that circulated the internet of the different kinds of moms on the playground: baby wearing mom, breast feeding mom, working moms, etc, I think if the Myalgia Mommies all had a secret nod we would be in a corner in sunglasses having quiet time. We could take turns watching the children like a pride of large cats.

That would be really cool.

I’ll look for you at the park.

Otherwise, it’s been a rough few months. I knew I was predisposed to a perinatal mood disorder or post-partum depression. It’s like a slow flood. You expect it, it comes, you deal with it, then you clean up after. I’ll blog about that separately. Also, I have three children.

I wish that every woman who suffers from postpartum depression can get the help and support that I did. In my case, I knew I was headed to a dark place: I learned of my pregnancy the same week that we put my father in hospice. He did not live to meet my son. Anyway…I keep promising myself that I am going to start writing again and this is a good first step.

Cheers,
ALJ

Blue Monday Dispatch

Blue Monday, the second Monday in January, is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. I learned this from Facebook and Mental Health Foundation who offered great tips for coping. 

Depression and Chronic Pain inevitably go together. The pain wears you down, "why me" niggles at the back of your mind, and if you have to give up plans or activities it is a real loss. I have been living with depression as my little black dog for over a decade and struggled with it as an adolescent. 

Living with Chronic Pain I have acquired new mental illnesses and repeatedly had the conversation with psychiatrists that my mood is more a reflection of the weariness of waking up in pain day after day or from having to accept that the plans I had for my life and career are not possible given my physical limitations. 

Consindering everything, I think I'm a positive ray of sunshine. 

This past week found me experiencing a bad muscle spasm and pinched nerve. Fortunately, I have an accupuncturist who makes home visits and I respond well to alternative therapy. I also have a small pharmacy of Western medicine and an appointment with my neurologist as back up. It's still a struggle. 

So, after a previous week of pain and a few days on the couch, Blue Monday dawned as the beginning of a New Year; It was a rough day for me and involved more self reflection than I wanted to deal with on a cold day. 

We started the day with a fresh semester of music and art class. Memes and I started going to a wonderful music and art program run by two amazing moms when she was six months old. Since we have known them both women have given birth while they continued to design and develope this brilliant little program. 

Now we have moved up to the toddler class from the infant group and I noticed that the group has changed from a majority of parents to over half of the adults being hired caregivers as the parents were both working. The conversation around the art table was about which classes the toddlers were enrolled in, a nanny told me they have a different class everyday. I felt terrible. In my mind I am a stay at home full time mother devoting all the energy I have to being the best caretaker possible. 

Over the holidays I have been playing up the ideal 1950's homemaker motif because it matches my kitchen and makes everyone happy. I am trying to be the ultimate mom. I've been baking and cooking and almost keeping the house clean. I've bough new organizing baskets and this may be the year that everything has a place...

Anyway, these nannies made me feel like I am falling behind in classes for the baby. Then I came home and started worrying about whether my older daughter was engaged in enough meaningful extracurricular activities. 

My blues quickly turn into anxiety.

In the hazy memory of the days before my body rebelled I remember the woman who charged headlong into all kinds of intriguing situations and was often criticized for being overconfident. Now I find that I have developed many flavors of anxiety to accompany my illness. 

One form it has recently taken is Social Anxiety. To begin with I'm never sure what to wear: what is appropriate for my age and what I'm doing, or what reflects who I am at this stage in life. After that I get very defensive about my choice to be a full time SAHM. I know that it is a luxury. For me it is not really a choice. 

To top the day off, we attended a retirement party for a colleague of my husband. He is an Assistant United States Attorney for the Department of Justice. The retirement party was for a wonderful man who had worked in the office next to him and been a good friend since we moved here. I wanted to see him and wish him well. 

The idea of being in a room of working attorneys and having to make small talk terrified me. I am deeply insecure about my decision to be a full time stay at home mother and would love to be working part time once Memes is old enough for school. Hopefully, I will at least be able to write! 

In my cocktail chatter I found an alternate cause for Blue Monday: the lawyers who worked for firms all had to start the years billable hours at zero. It's a daunting thought.

I'm not sure what my master plan for this year will be. My efforts to be a fabulous and inspired Mom will continue. I will use my degrees to be the most amazing Mom in the neighborhood, on days that I can move around. I'm trying to make SuperMom a career choice but I'm not very good at it. 

I'm writing this on Gray Tuesday. On my phone. Hopefully I will get some more posts up soon, my draft folder is embarrassing!

Happy New Year, the darkest day is over! 

Cheers,

ALJ 

Veterans Day Thank You

On Veterans Day I'm being grateful for the Veterans in my life and thinking of the recent Veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars. 

Thank you. Everyday. 

It's Veterans Day Weekend and I'm thinking of the chronic pains suffered throughout the military families that I know. 

I'm really grateful. 

Happy Veterans Day. 

Cheers,

ALJ

Superheroes, supershopping and Superfoods

My daughters were superheroes for Halloween. 

The baby was Super Meme and had been practicing her hero leaps for the month of October. She must have over heard her sister and I talking about costumes (being 2 she is very impressionable). My tween and her middle school friend were matching superheroes so she could have eavesdropped on them. The friends high school sister and her friends were superheroes too, so all ages here were in on the conspiracy. (As were the major retailers!) I scrambled to find a costume fitting the role of Super Mom and wondered if writing this blog disqualified me. 

On twitter I joked that feminism has succeeded. (I hope it has, but as I get older I realize the word has so much baggage it will take another generation!)

My fall hobby is to conduct alumni interviews for my superlative alma mater and the young people I meet are all superheroes. They are high achievers with bright futures ahead of them and are fun to meet. I find myself wanting to hang out with thier parents or ask them to mentor my daughter. It is a positive experience that fills me with hope for the future, and ideas of activities for my kids. I find that I can't pass judgement on these wonderful younge people and am writing this blog now when I should be completing the reports from my interviews. The entire process has led me to understand the basis of my greater writers block: whatever you put in writing becomes permanent. 

My super girls are thriving. The little one deleted the first draft of this blog and used my iPad to order $352 worth of random things from my favorite shopping app. I am conflicted over whether to be proud of her ability to use these devices that intimidate me or ashamed that I am letting my two year old play on evil screens. 

When I called to have the order deleted the woman was not at all surprised when I said my toddler had placed the order. She was impressed by the number and specificity of items. The baby has excellent taste.

 

My older daughter plays on the Internet too and brought me the magic tablet with a screen opened to what looked like a Fibromyalgia support or advocacy page but upon closer scrutiny was selling some secret formula supplements that promised to help provide more energy and improve quality of life. 

I don't know what ads get placed around this blog so for all I know she could have found it in the margins here or in a site I  recommended. 

My initial reaction was to say "Thank you, but I don't think these will work." 

I think it was the wrong answer. My next answer was to tell her that I already took the best vitamins medically recommended and would stick with those but I'm lucky that I had a doctor who did all the reading to tell me which handful of vitamins to take. By this point she had walked away. 

So I turned to my husband and realizing that the teachable moment was lost, allowed myself to succumb to neurosis. 

I asked in my most accusatory tone "have I said anything lately?" Then added some positive "I've been doing great!" This has the added advantage of being true! Recently I've been experiencing pretty stable health for me, so I have no idea what prompted my daughter to find the ad for a fibro site that promised me energy. Bitterly, I said that if there was a pill that worked for pain relief and better sleep, we would all know about it and someone would be fabulously wealthy. 

There was a time years ago when I scoured the Internet looking for answers and was willing to try anything I found thinking that there was a better answer out there than what the doctors could tell me. These days I live in a state of resignation where I am confident that I am doing the best I can given what is known about my illnesses. I would even go so far as to say I think I am an expert in living gracefully around chronic pain and enjoying life. 

On a constructive note, I did realize how fortunate I have been to have a doctor who combines both Western medicine and vitamin supplements. A large part of my health is from my steady diet of multiple daily superfoods I learned from my doctor, books, friends (who had degrees in nutrition) and experience. 

There is a list of foods that have a higher concentrate of vitamins and minerals than others. The superfoods include: 

Kale

Brown Rice

Eggs

Cocoa

Sweet Potatoes

Turmeric 

Red Wine

Apples

Those are the really easy ones and if you google "superfoods" there are multiple lists. 

When I remember to eat well I feel much better. Finding the right balance for me took time and continued effort. The first thing I end up having a deep talk with other Myalgia Mommies about is diet, what you eat is a huge part of how you feel. It's also something that you can change about your life. Trying to get my kids to eat a balanced diet is a daily struggle. 

I have been very impressed by some spinach brownie served by another SuperMom. She even made them in a crockpot! So there are more tricks to learn and I won't complain. 

For Halloween I ended up wearing a Cat Woman t-shirt. My SuperMom costume (I was going to wear my vintage MomsRising t-shirt) was in the laundry! 

Maybe next year. 

Boo!

ALJ

Booted!

If you hear a rumor that I have bird bone disease, it's just the kids. I made that one up. 

I broke a bone in my foot. Getting out of my car. Weeks ago. I have known this since I wrote my last blog and am now wearing a boot of shame.

For the first few weeks that I had the stress fracture in my foot I did not seek medical attention. My foot hurt, walking hurt and the pain radiated up my body. I thought I was having a bad flare with a hurt foot. In the back of my mind part of me was convinced that there was something very wrong with my foot but I was in pain and thought I might be overreacting. A decade of chronic pain has taught me to listen to my body, then tune out the noise and try to get on with life.

My first solution to the pain in my foot was to try and buy new shoes. I am still stuck in the phase of personal evolution where I hope shopping can help problems. Once a year my daughter and I are enthralled by the new school supplies and believe that we will achieve a state of perfect, color coordinated organization if only we choose the right binder and desk accessories. Since I broke my foot the week before school started I knew that if I found a pair of tennis shoes (I prefer to go barefoot and have spent the last year in ballet flats with no support even when on walks) that the correct cushioning would provide relief. 

I have been looking for a new pair of tennis shoes since my last pair gave out during my pregnancy. On a few quick trips to the sporting goods store to buy equipment or shoes for the tween I've tried to find some for myself but they were always way too bright. Once I found a pair I liked that fit and my daughter quipped that her best friend had the same pair. I can't dress like the Tweens. Also, she wanted the same pair and I couldn't buy myself the status shoes my child wanted. It just seemed wrong. 

In a row of neon shoes, I tried to find something timeless and mature. My daughter told me anything gray was for old people. I told her anything fluorescent was for the young. There was a pair of all black. I bought them to prove a point. My foot still hurt. Also, I look like a ninja. 

(I have since been told that my black ninja shoes look like "Amish sneakers") 

Later that week my daughter hurt her hand in tennis and the pediatrician sent us to the walk in orthopedic clinic for an x-ray. While we waited for results (she needed a smaller grip raquet) I thought "I should have them X-ray my foot, I know it's broken" but then we would never have gotten out of that clinic. 

Instead I waited another week, complaining on twitter, not taking my morning walk, skulking around the house and feeling wretched as the hurt foot triggered a flare and a headache. 

The episode of explaining my chronic pain disorder, that I waited so long for a boot and x-ray and that I wasn't seeking any pain meds is a blog that has already been written and isn't that interesting. Nurses are amazing. 

Now I have a black boot and compression baths. Specific instructions to try to stay off my foot and I realized that if you go out and about in public with a broken foot you need a better reason than falling out of your parked truck while barefoot. 

I know someone who finished an Ironman triathlon with a broken foot. I'm not complaining. I just need a better story for how I broke mine. 

Particarlarly for the queries from young people. If I expect the growing minds to be thinking expansively then I want to give them a more creative answer to how I broke my foot:

Sky Diving.

Rock climbing. 

Saving the world. 

Having a broken foot and a toddler is not condusive to getting many things done. We have produced a prodigious amount of new artwork during our home period and I am in the process of mailing it out. 

We are making Halloween Decorations. 

Also, I don't have to go to the grocery store. So really, life is pretty good. 

Cheers,

ALJ

Of Bone Grafts and Crafts

In previous posts and on twitter I mention that I write my blogs on my smartphone. It has been a long difficult summer of bone grafts and crafts and I have tried to share it with you in many draft forms on my infernal device.

My writing time is when the baby is asleep. I begin a blog, sitting on the patio (my office) while the baby naps or late at night. I thought my drafts were saving and that I would go back and post them for you. The baby loves my phone. They were deleted.

Instead I find my phone, or wrestle it from her, to discover that apps have been arraigned or deleted and the baby has taken dozens of photos of her feet, the floor, the lamp or whatever she sees. At first I found these photos delightful and looked at each one. I told my husband that we should save them or print them to share with the world the perspective and genius of our toddler. Now I delete them. If you think an exhibit of toddler photography would be a fabulous idea, let me know.

I lost the month of June being the Craft Mom for camp. It was an interesting experience and I tried to write about it many ways. Ultimately I realized what happens at camp stays at camp and I was allowed a glimpse into the world of little girls that reminded me of the stories of fairies, I'm still recovering. More about that later, in a novella. 

Camp gave me a chance to stay with my twelve year old and focus entirely on her for a few days. I tried to run the craft room and with the help of a small pharmacy and one migraine shot made it through the week as active and cheerful as the other mothers. It did take me a week in bed to recover but it was worth it and I got a t-shirt. 

Before camp I cancelled a dentist appointment to fill a cavity. I have a deep childhood phobia of the dentist from an experience of having teeth removed and the pain and migraines that followed at age 7. The spaces two of these teeth where removed did not have adult molars grow in. I just fear the dentist. 

The cavity had gone to the root and on July 5, I met with an oral surgeon to schedule having the tooth removed. He explained why I also needed two bone grafts in my jaw. I had the weekend to think about it. 

I couldn't have asked for better resources. (Including a wonderful new friend I met at camp, it was a lovely moment to make a new friend at camp, an experience I had not expected to have at this moment in my life) 

Then there is the Internet, friends who know someone, and useless advice I got. 

I went into the surgery unsure of my decision. It felt rushed and wrong. I didn't  want cadaver bone packed into my jaw. There was an option uncovered by insurance to add a growth material to the cadaver bone, I joked that I wanted to wait until we had the stem cell technology to regrow bone and had saved the babies cord blood at The University if that would help. It didn't. My jaw was sliced open on both the top and bottom and packed with hundreds of bone fragments. 

Since I had enough prescriptions the doctor didn't feel the need to talk about how to take pain medicine after surgery. 

The visit was short so I didn't feel the need to tell the surgeon my complete medical history. I haven't even shared it on this blog. I like to forget large chunks of it, I feel better in the mornings. 

Previously I had a longer consult with someone else in the practice who had seen patients with fibromyalgia and migraines who recovered well from the grafts and dental implants. 

I didn't fare as well. 

The implant in my upper right jaw triggered a nerve pain throughout my face. After the surgery it felt as though pain was radiating throughout my entire face, the delicate bones of my face ached and the soft tissue covering them where in spasm. Each morning was resigned to agony to open my eyes. For three weeks I needed to take medication to see through the pain and even then was only barely human. Both jaws hurt (and still do) from old TMJ on one side and a new case on the other. 

The pain was miserable but the loneliness was worse. It made sense to my neurologist that the pain would be a result of the bone graft. She expected a longer surgical and general recovery from someone with my medical history, and was surprised I done the procedure in the first place. While to her I admitted that I was shocked and appalled at how much pain the routine procedure had triggered, I began to play it down or avoid others. 

My daughter was getting ready for the National Chapionships for her favorite activity and instead of helping her prepare I was barely able to stay awake. For a few days my husband could excuse me as having dental surgery, but as one week turned to two and a third, I was embarrassed to have the other parents know how sick I am. In this group of triathlon running super moms, who work full time, (I have seen them high functioning with a cold that would put me in bed) I already feel like a weak slacker. Somehow I didn't want to know how they would respond knowing I was taken out for a month by an operation that elderly relations recover from in a few days (reportedly, several times, in a not helpful way as I suffered through my side effects.)

The intense and debilitating pain, combined with the effects of narcotic pain medicine made parenting through July nearly impossible. My husband used some medical leave to stay home in the days immediately following my surgery and my older daughter helped with the toddler. 

On my porch, calling family and oldest friends to update on my latest disaster the sympathy was hard to come by, this was a routine procedure and I had no explanation for my extreme response to it. In my neurologists office, my symptoms and complaints were received with a nod and no surprise, they seemed an obvious effect for someone with my collection of syndromes. I joked that if the research finally proves that the pain receptors of people like me are over-reactive, I will smile and nod. Those who love me most don't understand the disease I have and believe me to be malingering. 

So as I struggled through these complications, I didn't and couldn't reach out to the nascent community we have built in our new home. I knew they would not be able to understand that anyone could be so devastated by a routine procedure that by the follow-up appeared to have gone well. 

After years of living with this chronic pain I have come to find that it is something that can't be shared with friends and community without risking a kind of illness fatigue. People are willing to help out and make room for the occassional crisis, but when every week brings a different problem, you become the burden only family can bear. I joked to my daughter that I didn't want to talk about it or call anyone and ask for help because it made it too much work to be my friend. 

The bone graft drama is behind me and today I am updating the blog on the first day of school. 

I lost the summer to unforeseen complications and the blur of time passing too quickly. The next step for my teeth is reccommended dental implants. If any reader has had them and would like to inform my decision with a first hand account, I am grateful. 

That my girls are thriving and had a full summer despite my suffering, I am truly blessed. I hope you are as well.

Cheers,

ALJ

The Ides of March Madness

This morning when I came out of the shower I was delighted to find three things of deodorant on my vanity. The delight came from the fact that I've been looking everywhere for one for the past twenty-four hours. It was as if they materialized overnight.

My house isn't filled with fairies. The cold rain has kept me inside with a sick toddler who is recovered enough to wipe her nose on everything. Sadly, she's not quite well enough to risk exposure to other children. So we are playing at home.

I've cancelled our activities saying the baby is sick. The statement isn't accurate. The toddler is sick. When her fever breaks and she has an hour where she feels better this girl is fast! (Missing deodorant, one lives in our swim class bag, unpacked, one in overnight luggage, in closet, unpacked, the toddler is an evil elf. She also hides keys and throws away phones.)

My Father was visiting. He lives in Colorado, a very cold place that I can't visit comfortably during most of the year. He doesn't read blogs. He also doesn't have a smartphone which made me change my social media ways during his visit.

I put the phone down. My virtual world went silent. Life continued with a few less breaking news stories.

I did glance at twitter where I have my own special world. A friend of decades, who is a RN, forwarded an article about women with chronic health issues. I am going to find a way to link twitter to this blog later today.

The article is about how doctors don't treat women in pain or with any other chronic condition the same as men. It mentioned that many women never get a "real" diagnosis and instead are diagnosed with Fibromyalgia.

The story also described the disparity in women in research for new medications which is as old as research studies. I was saddened to see it printed again that Fibromyalgia is a diagnosis of last resort. To me it is a specific condition that I have lived with for a decade.

Once again I'm blogging from my phone and don't know how to link the article to the blog.

It made me realize that after a decade, nothing has changed in the world of women living with chronic pain. At the same time the existence of this blog means everything has changed because at least now the women with smartphones are complaining about it.

I will update and edit this post throughout the day. So if you come back and re-read this blog in a week it will have an article attached and be completely different.

After I have more tea.

Cheers,
ALJ

Too Early for Cake

The most important aspect to pain management in all chronic pain is sleep management.
****A blog about sleep deprivation, written by a really tired woman. Please lower expectations!!!****

Children are disruptive to sleep.

I think this is what separates Myalgia Mommies from other women who also suffer from chronic pain.

We added a dose of kids. So we aren't in control of "sleep management" our kids choose our sleep schedules. This weekend my toddler is treating us to a cold and waking up at 5am (instead of her usual 6:30, which is still pretty harsh) we are in boarding school or Guantanamo. I'm not sure yet. I do know this much coffee so early is not good for me and I am going to switch to yerba matte soon.

Yesterday I made a bundt cake. My older daughter decorated it and we came up with a wonderful litany of reasons to have a cake. I ate way too much and went to sleep with the baby having been up on a marathon of taking care of a sick family since 5 am. There is a special level of care taking that a mother gives. We add a dose of our own neurosis. I sit and pace, wondering if I can worry her symptoms into the deadly and rare variant of croup that kills children in the mountains of Eastern Europe.  She has a lingering common cold, but I am a creative and loving mother. Also, I apply menthol vapor rub with the perfect touch.

This morning the toddler starting demanding "Pie" or The Cake at 5:45 before we were able to make coffee. I've started a strange conversation on twitter at dawn.

My husband and I have never been morning people. When we met we we both law students. In Washington, DC in the late 90's we both went to Law School in the Evenings because we were having too much fun working as attorneys during the day. We put in 70 hour weeks and did not rise on the weekends until noon.

Both our daughters are those shiny, sunlight, bubbling creatures that alight with the dawn. I have no idea how this happened. The last decade has been a struggle and an evolution. Now we wake up early. Our girls outshine us in the mornings but we have coffee and catch up to them by 8ish. Comparing our situation to other parents, I think it is a common affliction.

None of this changes the fact that I am not in control of the sleep pattern my body wants this week.

So, I'm getting more coffee. Today we are having cake with second breakfast.

Cheers,
ALJ

Obnoxious Opiates and Toddler Issues

The story of any struggle with Myalgia must include some "laugh about it now" story about opiates. My own decade long saga includes several "Annadotes" that I try to tell in a funny way but if I'm not careful they come across as bitter or pathetic.

This week pain medications are on my mind because even though I am on "Mommy Leave" or disabled status I still read all the Centers for Disease Control press releases and the latest one is that deaths from overdose of opiate medication has risen for the 11th year in a row. When I read this and posted it to the Myalgia Mommies Facebook page, I felt a lump in my gut.

Anyone with a real chronic pain condition knows the frustration of meeting with a new doctor or seeking emergency treatment and wanting to scream "this is not drug seeking behavior!" For me, the last thing I want is pain medicine, it only makes you not care that you are in pain, it doesn't really ever make the pain entirely go away. At least it never has for me.

When I am seeking treatment it is always with the hope that there is a new drug or therapy that will address my specific condition and treat it, not just a pain medicine that will make me numb to the world.

As a Mother, I would never drink and drive. When I get a phone call while driving, I have my older daughter play personal assistant and answer for me. So I don't want to take any level of drugs that would endanger my most precious darlings. (I have driven with one eye closed due to a blinding migraine but I can still focus on the road.)

For years I have struggled to learn to take my opiates correctly. My neurologist has explained pain as a rising curve and told me to take the medicine when I feel the beginning of a bad flare. If you take the medicine when you are already in great pain it won't be effective. I invariably wait until it is too late. I only remember that I have narcotic pain medicine to take when I am in excruciating pain and by then it is "too late" and the medicine only takes the edge off.

Many years ago, the first time I took a daily slow release of OxyContin, a young family member had a friend who became an addict taking the same drug recreationally and ended up in rehab. I made the mistake back then of telling family members what medications I was taking. In those days my illness was new and I was looking to in laws for support. I only made that mistake once.

Under pressure from guilt I weaned off the opiate and the overwhelming pain and resulting time confined to my bed led to a horrible depression. Fortunately, I was under the care of excellent doctors who convinced me of the need to resume a course of treatment that included pain medication.

This week has been a lovely adventure. My 16 month old is a dare devil extraordinaire. She delights in climbing on the kitchen table and flinging herself into my arms. She choke holds and rides my poor cat. When my back and nerves are completely shot and I think I can't go on she tenderly hugs me and gives the sweetest kisses. She also sits on my back. This baby brings me her book, says "read it" and if I don't move fast enough hits me with the book. The pain of being hit with a book distracts me from my fibro flare.

In order to make it thru a bad I use two different muscle relaxants that I alternate in order to keep from forming a tolerance.  In my medicine cabinet I have an opiate pain medicine (Vicodin) that I intentionally ignore because I know that if I take if two days in a row, on the third day I will have a rebound headache from the drug. So I push it to the back of the cupboard and try everything else first.

I can only take oxycontin and dilauded because I have an allergic reaction to Morphine.  I learned this in a fun way that led to me ordering our living room furniture in white when my older daughter was a little over a year old. Fortunately the couch and matching chair had removable covers and my exploration of the different properties of cleaning products began.

I hope this news of abuse doesn't make it harder for us Myalgia Mommies to get the medication that we need. On a deeper level I hope with all my heart that there aren't women out there overwhelmed and in pain who ignore the dosing instructions and take too many pills. The pain medicine can help. It also kills.

The temptation to take extra pills thinking that they might work better or add more relief is easy to sympathize with, particularly for someone who is recently diagnosed. After my many years of trying to find a good mix of therapy, I understand the importance of keeping medication in reserve for when it is really needed. Our bodies build tolerances to everything. The rising death count reported by the CDC indicate that at a certain level the pain medicine is deadly. 

The moral of this story is try harder to go without or use less not more. Lying on the couch with my aromatherapy pillow over my eyes I am with my girls. Listening to them play and watch TV. I can breathe thru thru a bad day and be there for tomorrow. Please keep this in mind and always take less than needed not more.

If you read my other blog, The Silver Ribbon Campaign, you will learn that I lost my Mother to a brain disease. I dearly hope this blog can provide a Myalgia Mommy with the knowledge that you are not alone and thousands of other women also live with daily pain, and take pain medicine only as prescribed.

I write while my baby naps. My body also cries out for a nap in this cold weather and I need another cup of coffee and to bury myself under a blanket.

Cheers,
ALJ

Botox for inner Beauty and Perfection

The day before Valentines Day I miraculously was able to get a same day appointment with my neurologist. She is basically my primary care doctor, she works for a chronic pain and headache clinic, has a young daughter and I love her.

Since the appointment was made with only a few hours to get ready I brought my baby in with me. No time to find a sitter, I'm new in town. Honestly. I just don't trust many other people with my children. Dr. Alice (my pseudonym since she looks like Heather Graham or a grown up Alice in Wonderland❤) counseled me through my pregnancy, nursing, weaning and has heard about the babe at each step. She was charmed by her in person.

My Valentines surprise treatment was one that used to be an expensive and elaborate process. Now it is common practice and this week I was able to get injections to help my TMJ too.(I honestly don't know what TMJ stands for- I call it terrible mouth joint!) Without even getting undressed, while the nurse distracted my babe, I was given over a dozen Botox injections. Hopefully, these injections at the trigger points will hold off all migraines for the next three months. The best Valentine possible.

The Botox leaves my forehead perfect and smooth. It will take a few days to take effect and I have a migraine until then. I love the irony that I get to look great while I am in pain. As I wait for it to work I will try to stay as peaceful as possible. If you read the classification Botox is a neurotoxin. I'm excited because my doctor injected a neurotoxin in the base of my skull. Pain makes us do desperate things.

We did have a lovely Valentines Day. This time of year many mental health problems rear and we have been spared. Instead our evening was truly perfect. As I put my roses in a vase, I whispered to my husband that we were making things difficult for whoever dates our daughters.

I hope this post finds everyone warm and well.

CVW your Valentine is in my car❤
Cheers,
ALJ

Valentines!💝❤

When I pulled out my Valentine card supply box from last year, I found a few stragglers we forgot to deliver. Checking the names on the left over cards did explain why some relationships were not as warm as I expected them to be this past year.

It was an omen.

I need to be better at reading signs. My older daughter is in Middle School and I could easily go this year without putting up up anything with a heart on it or noticing the seasonal decorations for February. Now my home is starting to show signs of a stationary store or a toddler classroom as I decorate to relieve the gray sky of winter out our windows.

My tradition of giving out little gifts and reminding people as often as possible how much I loved them began in my early teens with the death of a friend. When I learned suicide number rise at Valentines, I decided in my young mind that I could help the people I saw that day. So I carried a bag of candy. That was twenty years ago. Now I send some, and have a few choice clothing items to pull out. Mostly, I love chocolate and making people feel loved.

In my family 2012 was the year of new cousins so I set out to send everyone a Valentine. The new bad dog had other ideas. My oldest and I spent a productive weekend morning wrapping little gifts for her cousins and labeling bags to put into boxes ready for the mail. Our towers of addressed shipping boxes was impressive as we headed of to a party and waited for Monday.

He ate through the heavy packing material, a printed layer of valentine plastic, some tissue, and cardboard all to eat those silly conversation hearts. Our bad dog ate the Valentines. After my initial flurry of shopping, organizing, wrapping and packing I don't know if I have another round in me. Sadly, the kids I was sending gifts to are too little to use phones so I can't text or send an e-card.

When the baby knocks over her block tower, we build it again. In professional life I would try and problem solve around a puzzle until it was complete. In cold days of limited energy, my glitter and hearts have been defeated by a bad dog. This small defeat may be the difference between high functioning and not coping well with chronic pain. I'll leave a post script in the comments about the ultimate results.

On the dog behavior there is good new. We received a dog tax bill in the mail for a "Poppit" so we started calling our our new dog by his old name. We have been calling him half a dozen other things, my favorite being"Snarky" or Evil Eyes. Now he comes when you call. If you call an old dog by several new names he just gets confused and belligerent.

Still, he ate the Valentines.

Maybe next year.

I need more tea.

Cheers,
ALJ 💝❤🎁

Hibernation and Soup

The last week has covered my little world in an unusually harsh cold snap. The afternoon light was cold and grey, it sank deeper than my bones. All I have wanted to do for weeks was hide beneath my down comforter and disappear.

I've previously written about how the cold is my personal ticket to "Pain-town;" I also think that the change in barometric pressure affects me like a witch in one of the fairy tales I read my daughters.  January has brought me many symptoms and with my girls I need to make accommodations because they don't slow down and our lives hurtle forward through the ice storm.

Over the past week I've had made two runs to the pediatrician. Keeping with my fairy tale theme, the baby caught Molluscum Contagiousum from an object. They bumps cause her no discomfort and will go away on thier own. I have had the urge to point a wand at someone and shout "Molluscum Contagiousum!" Convinced it will get me into Hogwarts on scholarship. To maintain balance and keep the sibling rivalry at bay, I have simultaneously been having a wonderful time remodeling with my tween.

Finally, I'm writing this blog on my phone with a very grumpy toddler in my lap. My baby is cutting both her canines at once.

She howled intermittently throughout yesterday afternoon. We went to her Art and Music class and she was too irritable to create a baby masterpiece or participate in the rumpus with her friends. This morning she woke up at 4:30 and insisted her father entertain her. From the amount of anguish the eruption is causing her, I fear she is turning into a were-baby.

We've given her a pain reliever and baby Ora-gel and this afternoon I will walk out on the Moors and look for some Wolves-bane to hang over her crib as a precaution. (I think I read that somewhere...again, too many fairy tales)

My sweet baby has been my Winter savior. Through this cold spell, when she takes her morning nap I steal a moment to hide under blankets and read email. When we wake up we have a second breakfast of warm porridge and watch Sesame Street in a nest of pillows and blankets. After lunch we enjoy an afternoon nap to gain strength for tween activities. I sleep while she the baby does.

On reflection, it is an ideal lifestyle for any Hobbit or Bear. Even so, I'm not feeling my usual game self and have resorted to an extreme but amazingly successful shortcut for soup. When it is cold soup is my favorite dinner to prepare and serve and I drink tea to warm and revive me all day.

My bean soup or chili is the easiest thing I know to make and a never fail. I'm sharing the recipe here as a gift to all Myalgia Mommies. In college it was a weekly tradition with a small circle of friends who did not know how to cook and were easily impressed.  I would buy and prepare the base: a white onion, clove of garlic, can of stewed tomatoes, can of black ranch style beans and ask each of half a dozen friends to bring a can of beans. As each person arrived they would add thier can and I would add more salt and whatever vegetables where left in our fridge, there was some show we used to watch but it must not have been very good because I can't remember what it was. The bean soup always came out great.

Now I sauté ground beef with the onion because my pediatrician tells me my daughters need the iron. A handout about high iron foods for children stated that adding meet to the beans increases the iron absorption rate.

Over Thanksgiving I learned the ultimate Myalgia Mommy recipe from my husbands Great-Aunt. She is an amazing woman in her 80's who is still living independently in her home surrounded by her collections from a lifetime spent as an RN-PHD who traveled the world teaching nursing skills to others. She was a working mother during decades when it was unheard of and I was amazed at how she enjoyed being in her kitchen. She didn't. She loves food but considers the preparing of it to be tedious.

She prepared a quick meal for us when we arrived by combining three unlikely cans of prepared soup: a clam chowder, a minestrone, and a third barley stew that I would never have bought or thought to eat.

The result was not very attractive but surprisingly delicious. Each bite was a mysterious combination of taste that you couldn't quite place but managed to somehow harmonize. Surprise soup. With a loaf of fresh crusty bread from a local bakery, I had two servings and was in love.

So tonight if the weather, the day, or the many vagaries of life have made dinner a challenge, pick three random soups (don't look at the labels or think about it!) and you have a winner.

On a special Myalgia Mommies note: Yesterday CW, the inspiration and creator of this blog, celebrated another birthday. I only remember my family members birthdays because my brother calls me. Thank you Facebook!

So, today I have to leave my warm sanctuary to find a gift for an amazing friend and gorgeous human being. Also, since it will be at least one day late it has to be REALLY awesome. Please feel free to post suggestions.

I need to make some strong tea for this mission.

Cheers,
Anna-Lisa

MM and Thankfulness

I'm writing this post from my smartphone. My mother-in-law arrived late last night and is sleeping in my office. So please be kind to my typos.

The blog has not been updated in a few weeks because I had a minor surgery. Thankful for modern medicine and my wonderful Myalgia Mommie co-founder and friend who came over and took excellent care of me while I recovered.

Also very thankful that I am at a point in my life where I no longer need routine surgery or visits to the Doctor to control my chronic pain. The biggest hurdle to my surgery occurred in the pre-op phase when they tried to put a line in my arm for the sedative.

Even now I have a blood draw every 3 months to check various blood levels. Somehow even living on a beach, on the equator I still always have a Vitamin D deficiency. If my white blood count is ever normal I will be thrilled because that will mean that I am cured and can turn this blog over to someone else!

When the surgeon checked the line and the bag of sedative, it wasn't going in. As with so many people who suffer from chronic pain, I look great! Sadly, I have scar tissue in my arms around my veins from having blood taken so often. Needless to say, I panicked. The procedure was to have teeth pulled, and I am really afraid of additional pain. The sedative found its way into my system, the oral surgeon removed my broken and infected teeth (long complicated story) and I am mostly better.

When he called the next day to check on me I told the surgeon that my greatest concern was that the operation would trigger a migraine which would be much greater pain than having teeth pulled. It didn't. Now I have company and am getting ready for the holidays.

This year I am Thankful that I am not responsible for being "The Hostess" although the many years that I opened my home to a huge party gave me amazing stories and memories. My personality is very "type A" and I would spend at least a week making sure everything was perfect. Getting new recipes, arraigning flowers, picking the perfect wine and decorating my house. So, I do miss it, but my family prefers the more relaxed version of me.

We are taking the girls and driving to see their Great Aunt in the mountains a few hours away. It's just far enough that we are leaving a few days early and staying in a hotel.

Almost a decade ago, when I was very sick, I read a Blog about traveling with a chronic illness. I think it was Chronic Babe. The advice was to wear comfortable clothes, bring healthy snacks, stop every two hours and have fun. This trip I will have my 11 year old, my baby, and my Mother-in-Law (who also has health problems) traveling in the car with me. Any Mommy Blog will give you the same advice for traveling with children. In the past, we have taken my Grandmother out of her nursing home for holidays and the instructions are the same. In fact, I had to read the Drivers Manual to take the test and get a new liscense; it said when on a trip plan to stop and move around every two hours. Writing this blog I often feel like any advice I would have is obvious and written in numerous other places.

I feel very blessed and thankful for everything in my life. At the same time, I will not list it here because no one likes smugness.

Thank you for reading and please feel free to share what you are thankful for this year.

Cheers and Happy Thanksgiving,
ALJ

My MM Story: Returning to the Island

It's my hope that this blog will be a special place, where the MILLIONS of women who live with one of the many flavors of chronic pain and fight through it everyday so we can still be loving wonderful mothers, find support and understanding. So today I will share my story:

Today, I am in a giddy mood. I am packing to return to St. Croix in the Virgin Islands where I lived for three years and found the most relief for my fibromyalgia and chronic migraines. Getting there was a decades long journey, and I had to leave because I became pregnant with my second child. My medical history and age made me a high risk pregnancy, so I needed to be in a really excellent medical center to have a baby, and the island does not have good healthcare.

In 2000 I was a student in one of the most difficult joint degree programs available, Georgetown University Law Center, and after my second year I started commuting up to Baltimore to Johns Hopkins School of Public Health for a Masters in Public Health. At the same time I was giving talks and on a book tour for I'm Not Sick, I Don't Need Help: Helping the Seriously Mentally Ill Accept Treatment (Vida Press, 2000)

I was also a mother. I thought that if I had a baby while I was in my 20's and in school, she and I could go to school together, and by the time I was done with the book tour and graduate school, she would be ready for Pre-Kindergarden. Being a student gave me the flexibility to spend time with my baby. I seriously underestimated how hard graduate school and the book tour would be.

My migraines started at age 5. One year, my Kindergarden teacher came to visit DC and looked me up. I didn't remember her. She taught for 20 years and said she would always remember me because I was very bright, but every few weeks I would come to class, hold my head and cry because it hurt so badly. I was the only child she had ever met that had migraines. In my life, I don't remember a time when I didn't suffer blinding migraines. Honestly, as a child I thought everyone had them and that I was just weak because I couldn't hide mine.

When we were packing up our house in DC, I found the thick file of notes from my neurologist from the period when the fibromyalgia attacked. At the time she was treating my migraines with Botox injections at the base of my neck (I have cervical occipital vascular migraines), and I told her that I was feeling radiating pain throughout my body. The pain was spreading and getting worse. Fast forward a year, and I was almost catatonic in bed from the pain. As I have come to understand it, Fibromyalgia is a spectrum disorder. It is possible to have a mild form, and I got the short straw and such a severe form that when I flare, my legs collapse under me and I can't walk.

The rheumatologist who finally diagnosed me with fibromyalgia told me that I needed to get my life "down to zero" because all the type A super stress that I thrived on was feeding my disease. I was devastated. Over the course of the next several years, I tried to work, volunteer and continue to be everything I had planned for myself. Each time I gave 100 percent, I would end up in bed for a week. After a big push (campaigns, organizing Katrina relief, helping a friend, etc.), I would go to my neurologist for emergency trigger point injections and get a lecture.

During this period I went completely vegan. I bought all my food organic and local. I had a great acupuncturist that provided some relief, but she fired me after I spent a hectic week in the hospital helping my best friend who had a brain tumor.

My husband, daughter and I went to Kerala in South India where I spent two weeks getting traditional therapy. They told me on the phone that they could cure fibromyalgia. When we arrived they told us I would need to stay 2 months. At least I tried.

Living on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, watching my friends have wonderful careers while I spent two days a week in bed, was destroying my self esteem.

I was working with the best doctors in the country, but there were no drugs to treat fibromyalgia. Even now I meet medical professionals who believe that a diagnosis of fibromyalgia is a "catch all" for all people who want narcotics. I never know if I should lecture them or shake them!

At the same time wonderful friends from college and law school moved on with their lives, but I still hadn't gotten better. I think that is what separates the Myalgia Mommies and Chronic Babes. Many people didn't want to hang around because after five years I was still sick, not getting better, and had a disease that many doctors didn't think existed. It is hard to be around someone who will always be sick. I learned this when my best friend was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We all rallied around him. There was a walk to cure brain tumors, and we had a great team. I have never seen a walk to end migraines. The definition of a chronic condition is that it will never go away.

Though life on St.Croix was warm and there was very little stress, I would still have bad days, migraines and some flares. The circle of people I surrounded myself with understood this and helped me to adapt to life with my illness.

One of the best gifts I was given was when my daughter began riding horses. It was our job to feed all the horses a few days a week. At first I said I couldn't do it because lifting the 50 pound feed bags was too much. The wonderful woman who was in charge said she would lift the bags. She taught me how to make each bucket weigh less than ten pounds and made it clear that she would take no excuses. I had to find a way to do the work. It was great exercise and time with my daughter.

Please feel free to share your story of how you have built a life around your chronic pain. Living gracefully and full of love is not easy. It is possible. I know it is absolutely worth it.

Have a great weekend.

Cheers,
Anna-Lisa

Weathering the Storm

This blog is called "Myalgia Mommies" to be as inclusive as possible for all mothers living with some form of chronic pain. The more mommies I meet and the older I get, I am beginning to believe that most of us are "Myalgia Mommies".

I decided to start this on-line community because I have a Masters in Public Health from Johns Hopkins School of Public Health, so I am a pretend doctor and keep up on all the reading anyway. Also, I have suffered migraines since I was 5 and was diagnosed (after over 2 years of tests and visiting NIH to determine mystery illness) with a very severe case of Fibromyalgia in 2001. In the decade that I was dealing with my chronic pain, waiting for a good drug to be invented, I never found an on-line community that was positive support and included the challenges of parenting. 

I love Chronic Babe, but she gets massages and makes martinis. I have kids and chaperone dances, drive all over, plan lessons, play dates, sleepovers, etc. Mom stuff and cool no kids stuff is very different. 

This post is about the huge storm Sandy, hitting the East Coast today. 

I am mostly a Twitter person and am calling it Tea Tuesday! 

Mommies who have kids home from school, make some tea, get some craft projects and have a great day. I can't go outside today unless I am wearing about ten layers of clothes. For some reason I flare when I get cold, and it is 40 degrees outside. So, I'm building a fire, making tea and blogging. Later we will bake some cookies, sing some songs, maybe do a puzzle...

The latest meeting of the Fibromyalgia research group said that daily 30 minutes of exercise helps, but the best kind for me and others with various rheumatoid  problems is a warm pool and water exercise or swimming. See previous post, my baby is in a cast so no pool for us!

I don't know how some of you Myalgia Mommies live in cold places. Feel free to leave tips in the comments section. My aunt is a Myalgia Mommie and lives Up North. Her myalgia is a fused disk in her lower back that can't be operated on. The funny thing about my Aunt is that if the temp gets above 70, she gets really upset. She can't handle the heat. I love her to pieces, but if I go below 65 my whole body hurts. We rarely see each other, but we talk on the phone. We both have Scotties. 


I hope you all have power to read this blog and weathered the storm. We only recently moved back to the mainland from the USVI (great warm place, gets several hurricanes each year!) so I am familiar with hurricanes. My myalgia has a hard limit that I can't lift over 10 pounds or my back will go out. I've always relied on the kindness of friends or yelling at hubby to put up our storm shutters. 

If you and your kids are fine, please go check on an elderly or disabled neighbor. 

Also, if you would like daily silly tips from me, you can follow me on Twitter at IslandAnnaLand. 

Stay Warm and Dry!

Cheers, 
ALJ

Mommie Blogger FAIL and Insight!

If you see me in real life my baby is wearing leg warmers. It is not me having a childhood flashback. She is in a cast.


It's a long story but most things involving parenting are. Mommies have a different road. My poor baby just woke up. She cant stay asleep for her naps because of the cast.

We were at the hospital on October 13, with a 13 month old baby and I was sending emails about a 2013 calendar as a fundraising project.

I had to call in a refill on a "break thru" drug and it said refill untill "7/13" so I called the parmacist thinking it was 14/Ocotober/14. Im so tired, I am time traveling.

I wanted to post that on facebook but my husband said it just sounded weird and I should go to bed.

That pretty much is how I feel about blogging about being a Mom who suffers from some form of Chronic Pain. The more I grow up, research, make deeper connections to other women, the more I realize that most of us have some major issue in life that is chronic pain.

My really deep thought for the day is that I met a woman who has a husband who is being tested to determine what his chronic pain is being caused by. They have 3 teenage girls. That's heavy lifting. So I met a myalgia mommie by proxy because she is reading all the tests with her husband and probably understands more medical terms.

My other deep thought is that all the research from every disease keeps coming back to one thing: healthy sleep patterns.

My blogging time is when my baby girl is taking her mid morning nap and my house is not a biohazard. That can be a narrow window. We live dangerous lives. Also, need more sleep.

I feel like I did one good deed today. I reminded the myalgia mommy I met to check her husband for vitamin D levels. Often just a piece of the puzzle but they don't check it in men. My amazing island Doctor taught me that.

If you read this, and have had a child in a cast, please feel free to post tips for keeping her entertained and cleanish!

Thanks.
Anna-Lisa

World Mental Health Day

Today, October 10th, is World Mental Health Day. The World Health Organization has identified Depression as the focus for this year. Globally, depression is the second greatest burden of disease affecting 350 million people worldwide.

For a Myalgia Mommie depression is a little black dog that is always nipping at our heels. I have found that we have an amazing weapon against it: our children.

True clinical depression takes clinical intervention and is so overwhelming that when an individual is in the throws of the disease, even our darling children can't reach through. This post is about "Mental Wellness," a crucial part of life that we do everyday and that keeps us going as Myalgia Mommies.

Most of the activities of finding a daily moment of beauty, engaging in an activity that gives us joy and finding pleasure in simple acts, we have adopted as a way of life. Studies have shown, and health professionals call this, mental wellness.

Recent research into my myalgia, "fibromyalgia," has shown that medication alone will not diminish symptoms and a holistic approach including these lifestyle changes is needed to address symptoms.

My darling baby is waking up. She is my daily joy and the reason this blog has so few posts.

I hope all you Myalgia Mommies have a chance to sit down with a cup of tea today, smile to yourself, congratulate yourself for mindful self-care, and bask in the beauty that you are. My tea party will be me and my baby, and we will toast you.

If it is possible to gain strength and support knowing that you are part of a greater web of women quietly trying to live with grace through a similar circumstance, then this blog has served it's purpose.

Please share a picture or short description of your cup of tea.

Hopefully today we will put up some pumpkin lights and have a photo worthy of sharing.

XO
ALJ