Can Laughter truly be the Best Medicine?

So...I'm having a "Fibro Crisis", what I affectionately call a "Fibro Cluster Fuck!" and it's really beginning to piss me off...
But I'm using that anger to my advantage....

I'm dealing with all my old symptoms of pain, fatigue, short term memory issues, but I'm still moving, just not as fast as I would like.
I'm walking at least 20 mins, every other day, but I've also added weight training, floor exercises, and some yoga moves to my routine.
It's interesting but I seem to burn more calories walking and weight training then I did with just alternate running.

Because of my stupid pain, I finally conceded and asked my mother to be my personal trainer, but to my happy surprise, she is really good at it!
She knows what she's doing from both a personal and a professional aspect, she's good at inspiring me to push myself, and yet she knows when to stop me from hurting myself. The only chink in this perfect scenario is that she either makes me laugh, or I end up making her laugh. Especially when shes trying to get me into a embarrassing yoga pose.

It reminds me of when I was being trained at Baily's by my personal trainer Konstantin.
Every training session was intense, but we always had moments of hysterical laughter that made all the exhaustion worth it at the end of the day.
One of my favorite moments was when he had me working with the medicine ball and this guy came into the room wearing very tiny shorts. Not an unusual sight in a gym, especially one downtown, so we didn't think anything of it, that was until he decided to do floor stretches and his left Nut popped out of his shorts.
Both my trainer and I saw it at the same time, and we died...
The guy was totally oblivious both to the fact that he was getting a full frontal breeze and that we had seen it. After the guy left the room and we had composed ourselves enough to get back to work, the rest of the training session became one long joke... "don't let that ball slip", "you want the blue ball?", "Stop playing with your balls", "you don't want to let your ball hang too low" and after every ball joke we would giggle like stupid little girls...lol...but it was the best session I ever had...

So if what the doctors say are true, and laughter is good for your body, strengthens your muscles, and helps you burns extra calories, then I'm on my way to excellent health...lol

Crisis, Frogs, Bitches, and Swords!!

Much like the frog in the pot, I didn't realize I was being cooked until it was too late....

So...who would have thought blue fingers would have been a warning...Ha!
Obviously I didn't... which is why I was so surprised when I realized my Fibromyalgia symptoms had made a return.

Granted...it was slow in showing itself.
I had been more tired lately, not wanting to exercise, but I figured that was just because I was bored with my exercise routine and because I wasn't sleeping.
Then there was the coldness.
I was freezing all the time, even when it was in the 70's. So cold, that finally my fingernails started to turn blue, but still I didn't think Fibro.
The aches and pains I felt I assumed were the results of the exercise, or of being cold so often...

Red flag... after fucking red flag... creeping up on me the same way it had over 2 years ago...
but what do you think made me finally realize what was going on...

I went to take a shower, and when I went to wash my hair, I couldn't hold up my arms but for a min....
Doesn't seem like much right?... but for me it's big...

When my Fibromyalgia got real bad, one of the things that I could no longer do was take long showers. Between the dizzy spells and the exhaustion, it wasn't safe. So my showers were reduced to the most basic of showers, clean the important bits and get out. But if I wanted to wash my hair, it became an ordeal.
I either had to let my mother do it, or while in the shower, I'd have to sit down in the tub (to avoid falling), and slowly wash/condition my hair for 30 minutes, taking breaks in between to get my strength back.
Actually one of the reasons I cut off most of my hair last year was to make it easier and quicker to wash. I just couldn't take it anymore.
It felt like my independence had been taken away from me. The place I used to go to unwind and relax became a place of stress, fear, and exhaustion.
Dizzy spells while standing in an old school Cast Iron Clawfoot tub is no joke!

So you can imagine, when I realized I was too tired to wash my hair, I just broke down....
In that moment everything clicked into place...this was no flare up and I knew it....

How could I not break down...I was scared!...
Scared that it was back for good...
Scared that my life was going to go back to the way it was, which wasn't much of a life.
Scared of the pain, and having to re-adjust to a life of constant pain again.

When I told my mother, she wasn't at all surprised. She had seen the signs even though I hadn't, and knew what was coming. As I cried, she reminded me that this has been known happen with Fibromyalgia patients, that this is just a temporary setback, and she reminded me of all the stuff I had read about having a Fibro Crisis. We talked about what I was worried about, what I feared, and the reality of what we need to do to get me back on my feet again.
She basically talked me back to a place sanity and clarity...and I don't know sometimes what I'd do without her...

So...The war rages on, but unlike before, I know the nature of the monster before me, and I know he can be beaten. I made sure to enjoy my moment of freedom, because I knew, deep down, this would happen again, so I regret nothing.
Standing up, I braid back my hair, hang the warriors feather around my neck, and I once again reach for my sword. Smiling wryly to myself I think "Bring it on Bitches!!" the battle begins again....

ROUND 2!!