Since the Fibromyalgia pain started, I’ve been forced to classify my days into four categories: good, bad, very bad, and very very bad. The classification depends on the pain I feel and on how disabled I get.
The rarest of them is good. These days are almost as elusive as a neoliberal caring for anything else other than himself.
I had a few of these almost a year ago, in December 2020. The pain was still present, but the level was low, and I could go on with my life without worrying much if an activity or movement would make my body hurt more.
Bad days are somewhat frequent, and the most common ones are very bad days. I can prepare meals during bad days without taking breaks, but everything hurts more after finishing and I have to lay down. On very bad days, I have to cook in small steps, with rest periods between them. I’ve written about this before.
That leaves very very bad days. These are just a little less frequent than bad days. I’ve had my share of them so far and, although I don’t recommend them, I thought they couldn’t get worse. Boy, how wrong I was.
It was the 11th of November. I woke up feeling a lot of pain in the morning, and the intensity increased throughout the day. By the afternoon that day, I was convinced I was having another very very bad day. I dragged myself to prepare a hot water bottle, hoping to relieve the pain.
When the heat was intense, the pain decreased a bit. After that, it continued to increase.
At night, it was at the level of my worst pain day until then. I popped the pills and went to bed to try to get some sleep. I think you probably guessed that sleep was something I couldn’t do.
The following day, the pain level was even more prominent. I was officially in my worst pain day so far, but that shit continued to increase slowly.
On the 14th of November, it seemed to have stabilized. Yet, I was in unbearable pain like I had never felt. Even the slightest movement hurt like… I can’t even describe it; this shit was beyond horrible.
Eventually, on the 17th, it started to decrease slowly. Two days later, it was back to the regular very very bad day. Now, as I write this blog post, it’s just on a “boring” very bad day.
I have no idea what triggered this flare. Swear to Goku! Maybe it was stress, bad luck, or the syndrome giving a glimpse of what’s coming up in the future. I have no fucking idea!
The only thing I do know is I don’t want another day like that. It wasn’t only the pain but also the brain fog and the fatigue trailing new higher levels. The whole experience was something to forget and hope not to repeat. And if it was like this with medication, I surely don’t want to imagine how it would have been without it.
image from Unsplash
