What Living With Fibromyalgia Taught Me About Waiting
Every morning I wait.
I wake up knowing that I am going to feel completely awful. I struggle to get out of bed, feeling hungover from my nightly meds and exhausted even though I have slept. As I move around and stumble to the bathroom, I start taking an inventory of all the areas of my body that are painful and screaming for attention and relief.
I make my way to the kitchen and stare blankly into the refrigerator in an attempt to locate some form of breakfast that my tastebuds will tolerate, even though I’m not at all hungry. I remind myself that eating is required to take my meds, so I choose something simple and choke it down.
I need a cup of tea, so I wait for the kettle to heat, then I wait for the tea to steep. Finally, I am ready to dig through my medicine bag and begin separating out my morning meds. I swallow one pill after another in a repetitive pattern that gets repeated each morning. Then I wait.
I wait for the hot flashes from my nightly meds to subside. I wait for the caffeine in my tea to clear my foggy mind. I wait for the allergy meds to stop my runny nose. I wait for the pain meds to lessen the aching, throbbing and stiffness that my body is never fully free of. I wait to start feeling slightly normal and functional, so that I can begin my day and manage my responsibilities as a mother and a wife.
Waiting is hard.
Waiting is depressing.
Waiting is exhausting.
Waiting is frustrating.
Waiting has taught me patience and how to slow down. It has taught me to be kinder to myself and to listen more when my mind and body speak.
Waiting is still difficult for me some days. Accepting and coping with my fibromyalgia and the myriad of other chronic conditions that have developed in recent years is still difficult. I am waiting and hoping that the future will bring better treatment options and maybe even a cure. Until then, I face each day with as much positivity as I can muster.
And I wait.
Getty image by abc17.