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I’m lying alone “with my head on the phone, thinking of you till it hurts. I know you hurt too, but –”

Oh sorry. I got carried away with an Air Supply song. I hate it when that happens.

I am lying alone in bed and looking out the bedroom window. The sun shining on the green leaves lifts my mood, and I make an effort to give thanks for the beauty that surrounds our house. But, the pain is strong, and it tries hard to overpower any perks in my mood or sparkle in my eyes.

The pain starts in the knees. I easily envision tiny monsters gnawing away on my joints and cartilage. The pain is dull, raw, and constant. I try to rub away the pain in the knees, but the rubbing creates a different kind of pain.

Within minutes the pain creeps up into my back and slowly works its way down to my elbows, wrists and fingers.

As I lie in bed, I rock back and forth, trying to rock away the pain. I curl up into a fetal position, wishing I was still that child that was soothed by her Mom’s touch. I see myself sitting on the couch with the boys when they are sick, my fingers running through their hair. Oh, how I wish my Mom could sit beside me and run her fingers through my hair, like she did when I was young.

Rob enters the bedroom, “Can I get you anything?” He asks.

“Will you rub my back, please?” I whine.

He sits next to me and starts rubbing my back. His touch causes me to wince in pain, but the pain of his touch seems to overpower the rawness. The tiny monsters seem scatter with the rubbing, only to return when the rubbing stops.

.:.

This came on suddenly. Monday I felt fine. Tuesday I hit a wall, and I hit the wall hard. The hypochondriac in me took to Google to find the cause of the horrid aching I was feeling without having a fever. The pain I felt was how I perceived the pain attributed to Fibromyalgia. Was I battling Fibromyalgia? WebMD and Wikipedia lead me to believe I was the newest member of the Fibro-group.

When I went to the doctor, she smiled and nodded at my Fibromyalgia knowledge, but she also clarified the fact that Fibromyalgia progresses over time. You don’t go to bed one night, and wake up the next morning aching horrifically from head to toe.

Thankfully, she ruled out Lupus, Rheumatoid arthritis, Mono, and various other illnesses. She also ruled out an ear infection, strep, and sinusitis. She was good at ruling out infections, just not too good in pinning down the infection I was battling.

She told me there was a chance I came in to the office before the virus really took hold, hence aches and pains but no fever. Blood was taken, and I was told to rest and take ibuprofen for pain.

.:.

The fever arrives. Just like the overachieving little monsters eating my joints, this fever starts in overdrive. My temperature skyrockets, and the chills settle in for a bit of added fun.

I take two ibuprofen pills, drink a large glass of water, and lie in bed. I want to cry. Moaning and rocking seems to help ease the pain a bit, so I moan and rock while looking out the window.

Thoughts start circulating throughout my mind: The green leaves are so pretty. I love the view from my bed. I wish I felt better. I need to go for a walk. I need to write. I miss writing. I miss walking. Why do I always get the Fs and Ks, when I play Words with Friends? If the rabbit poops on Rob’s laptop, does that make the laptop a compoop’er?

After a while, I notice the pain in my back starts to lessen. My moans become whimpers, and my rocking stops. Gradually, the pain eases in the elbows, wrists, and fingers. The vicious monsters eating away at my joints are muffled by the medication. Finally, I notice my knees aren’t aching.

I smile slightly, breathing in the welcomed respite from the pain. I consider sitting up and grabbing my laptop. I consider putting together a lame pictorial post about my boys watching the coffee maker make coffee. I consider getting up and getting a bite to eat. I consider getting up and checking on the kids, dogs, and bunny. Still smiling, I look out the window and drift off to sleep.

.:.

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