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Dear Francesca,
Inside me there is a black dog, her face twisted in anger, teeth bared, growling, ready to snap. Today I have felt so moody. When I got to my floor at work, the smell of paint fumes nearly shook me over. Apparently, some painting was done without opening any windows. Recently the company has been on a big safety kick, but they don't bother to air out noxious fumes of paint, expecting people to work in a nauseating, toxic environment. Safety. Go figure. I was able to go to another floor and work, thankfully; otherwise I would have left. Another thing that fueled my mood was that my boss assumes that because I am not paled with pain and shaking (as I have been several times at work) that I must be having a good day. She made the comment to the others in the office, "When Hannah feels good, look how much work she gets done!" Well, Franney, for much of today, Hannah felt like someone had punched her in the pelvic area on the right front side, and hit her with a baseball bat across the lower back. Just because I am not having the most severe pain I've had or just because I don't announce it to the office doesn't mean it's not there. I got home this afternoon, petted and gave the kittenlets a treat as usual, and checked my e-mail. I then thought about getting my exercise befire dinner. I am trying to get in the habit of regular exercise as it is beneficial to fibromyalgia and sometimes to endometriosis (by the way, Franney, I received a note regarding my medical tests Monday: rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, and others were ruled out. The doctor wrote in that fibromyalgia is probably the case, and we'll discuss meds and such on a follow-up). I shouldn't jog, run, or do anything "bouncy" though. However, I had an urge to run. So often I feel like doing something reckless, and but my old vices would truly be reckless, i.e. polluting my body with something I know will later cause pain or nausea. I wanted to feel something physical besides the pain of illness, and I needed something to silence the dog poised to snap. I remembered as a kid my neighborhood friends and I would ride bikes around our "town" of 700. There was a huge sloping hill of one road, and we took it as fast as we could. One friend had an speedometer on her bike and regularly clocked us as 35 miles per hour going down the hill. I can still remember that surge, wind created by speed ripping through my hair. Today I wanted to feel a similar strong physical sensation. I walked to the edge of the complex to the road winding alongside the woods. When I reached the road, I began to run. I felt almost immediately pain in my side, but kept going, the next lamppost sighted. I breathed heavily, lungs clutching air. When the road slanted up, I slowed to a walk, coming out of the small wooded area, and walking down the sidewalk. When I reached the end, I turned around, and when I got to the woods, I began to run again. I felt a catch in my throat, and my lungs never did quit grabbing for air. I got back to my apartment and sat down. For a few moments I was bathed in the glow of endorphins, but once they quickly vaporized I could feel the pain in my side and back again. Sometimes overexertion can cause a flare of pain from fibromyalgia; I hope that doesn't happen. If it does, it's no one's fault but my own, because I ran despite knowing I could pay for it later. I needed it, though, to prove that if even for a short time, my body can know something intense besides pain.
Yours,
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