I'm Not Superwoman

I am stubborn.  I can easily admit that.  If you wonder where I get my stubbornness from, I could introduce you to my family.  Almost any member of my family- for our stubborn streak runs deep through both Mom's side and Dad's side. 

My stubbornness seems to come up most with my health issues.  I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia 7 years ago.  Which means I've been experiencing symptoms and problems for at least a decade.  When I was diagnosed, it was a mixed blessing.  I was relieved to finally have an answer.  But I was a couple of months away from my 30th birthday and had been handed a diagnosis of a chronic condition that would plague me for the rest of my life.  My Grandparents lived well into their 80s, so the thought of dealing with this for the next 50 or so years was overwhelming.

I have always had the opinion that Fibromyalgia doesn't define me.  I didn't want to be perceived as weak.  I was going to continue my life, continue traveling, continue working.  Yes, there might be the occasional day here or there that I lose to the Fibro, but it was not going to control my life. 

I tried to moderate.  I told myself it is ok if I have to change weekend plans because I don't feel well.  It is ok if I do not get everything done on my to-do list.  Yet I continued to make incredibly ambitious to do lists each weekend.  I accepted that I have to take at least one little nap to get through the day.  Naps are good.  I kept working.  I kept traveling.  I kept telling myself I'm still young, let's go.

I told you I was stubborn.  Push through the pain.  That is what I do.  There are people suffering with far worse things, so I can get through a little pain.  And possibly, if it were just the pain, that might be true.  It's not just the pain. It's also the exhaustion.  A few years ago, I started taking a power nap every day during my lunch hour.  Occasionally I would curl up on the couch for a few minutes after dinner in the evening.  In the last year, that grew to every evening.  Then it grew from thirty minutes to sometimes a couple of hours.  It is harder to wake up on time in the morning, because I just want to sleep.

Not that I actually sleep much.  That's part of the joy of Fibro.  I don't achieve that deep, replenishing sleep.  I don't sleep, which causes the pain to be worse, then the pain keeps me from sleeping.  It's a never-ending cycle.

In the past year, I have felt myself getting sicker and sicker.  I've had numbness and terrible pain in my hands for a couple of years. I've been subjected to a slew of tests, and am still seeking answers.  Most recently blood work showed indications that I had an auto-immune disorder, so I was sent to a rheumatologist who ordered more in depth blood work.  I'm still waiting for those results.  Life has truly felt like a battle in the past year.  It feels like my body is attacking me daily.  As I have tried to maintain my regular life, I keep thinking that I am 36 years old.  I am too young to feel this lousy. 

People are always telling me 'I don't know how you do it'.  Even my team of doctors are amazed that I continue to work.  I have a prescription for medicine for the pain, but I take it rarely.  I do not want to rely on painkillers.  The truth is, I don't know how I do it either.  Work, taking care of the house, planning meals, caring for the dogs, and now my craft business.

I have felt like I am spreading myself too thin, and all areas of my life are suffering.  It feels like I'm always complaining about my health.  The tears and frustration have come more frequently.  Finally, I realized the time had come to admit I need to cut back.

I have friends who also have Fibro, and most of them had to retire early or stop working.  From the time I received the diagnosis, I have been aware that there may come a time that the Fibro interfered with my ability to work.  I didn't want to think about it.  I didn't want to let it happen.  And when I realized that it was happening, it took me months to admit it.

I reached my breaking point a couple of weeks ago when I woke up with my legs totally numb.  I went into work a little late, but had to have Erich drive me since I couldn't trust my reflexes to operate the gas pedal and brake.  I felt so helpless, so incredibly frustrated.  As we drove the three minutes to work, I cried my eyes out.  I was going to have to face what I had not wanted to face for years.

Still, I waited another couple of weeks to approach my boss.  I didn't know how to bring up the topic.  Things have been very stressful as the company is in a tight spot financially; one person was actually laid off.  That doesn't sound like a lot, unless you consider there were less than 10 employees.  I need the job, and didn't want it to be used as an opportunity to cut someone else, ie me, loose.   Then my coworker, the one who worked in the same area I do, decided to quit this week.  Which meant someone was going to have to do her job.  I saw my opening and went to talk to my boss, telling him not only could I not do her job, but I needed to cut my own hours.

It was truthfully, one of the hardest things I've ever done. I managed to maintain my composure as I told my boss that due to my health issues, I can't work 40 hours a week any more.  Can't.  That is a word I do not often use.  I asked my boss to cut back to 35 or 36 hours a week.  Basically, I want to work 4 1/2 days instead of 5.  I guess that takes us back to the stubbornness.   The good news is I think they are going to let me do it.

I know four hours doesn't sound like a lot.  But I do think it will help, knowing that half a day I don't have to be there. I could maybe get things done around the house, or maybe just rest.  Having that break will help, I know it will.  Truthfully, once I asked my boss, a weight lifted off my shoulders.  Things didn't seem as hopeless.  I felt better, just knowing I will have a regular break.

It took me so long to admit that I have to cut back because I didn't want to give up.  I thought if I give up with this, it's just a downhill slide.  A friend told me I'm not giving up, and that I will feel better.  She's one of my friends who also has Fibro, so she speaks from experience.  Sometimes, you have to step back in order to get ahead.