Christmas is a wonderful time of year. A time for living, a time for believing, a time for trusting, not deceiving, love and laughter and joy ever after, ours for the taking,..... ahem! sorry, slipped into Cliff Richard mode there, but Christmas is definitely a great occasion best spent with family and friends. Great nights in, great nights out, fun, laughter and yes, joy ever after. (Cliff was so right!)
But what's Christmas like when you're in constant pain?
I've spent thirteen Christmasses in varying degrees of agony. Christmas 2002 was spent looking after my heavily pregnant wife - pushing her around town in a wheelchair because the baby had decided to settle on a nerve somehow. A year later and I'd been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a condition which I didn't fully appreciate at the time. Nor did I have time to. A new baby to care for, a wife with post natal depression and anxiety to care for, a house to look after and a full time job, there was no time to think about what I was doing to myself.
I started coming down with every condition known to mankind - flu, bronchitis, cold after cold, stomach disturbances, and pain. So much pain. My back was the worst, lower to middle, aching constantly, but I fought on and each Christmas I stood at the oven cooking the family feast. No matter how much pain I was in. I'll be doing so this year too. My wife and I promised ourselves that we'd book somewhere for this Christmas but her mother wouldn't hear of it, so it'll be just as it always is.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Christmas, and I love cooking the meal, but once in a while I'd like to give my body a rest from it. Thankfully we don't have a massive family descending upon us each year - but, sometimes, it would be nice to, so that we could go to them!
Also, since 2003 we've had our little bundle of joy to entertain and excite in the run up to the big day. A a father I was suddenly expected to not only cook the Christmas dinner but also unpack and assemble the latest fad-toy - Disney Princess houses, fairy coaches, Barbie cars, kitchens, Littlest Pet Shop villages, Play Mobil schools and villages and cafe's, Moshi-Monster tree houses - all of which seem to have been packaged in high security metal twists and impregnable duct tape, with no prospect of speedy opening or the "Easy assembly" promised on the box! It's difficult enough for a fully able bodied person to fathom these things out. Manufacturers obviously conclude that because you're buying for a child, you're young enough and fit enough to unpack and build their items - they don't think of the less able bodied.
Thankfully, this year it's fashion and make-up and Hunger Games Mockingjay stuff so there'll be no assembling (fingers firmly crossed) and Emily is at an age to understand that I'm no longer Superman. Imagine telling an excited little girl that she can't play with her new toys until Daddy has the strength to assemble them? It never happened. I pushed through the pain to complete the task, and paid for it later. But it was all worth it in the end and we have some very happy memories to look back on - my only regret is that I don't know how much better it could have been had I not been in agony for most of it.
How do you cope with Christmas? Do you push through and suffer the consequences later, or do you hide yourself away until it's all over?
Fibromyalgia. It's a very difficult illness to deal with. I can say that in all honesty as I know the pain of fibromyalgia and all of the misery and suffering it, and its associated conditions, can bring.
There are so many blogs about fibro, mine included, that are written by, and therefore from the perspective of, fibro sufferers. But what is it like to be a partner or carer of a fibromyalgia patient?
It's refreshing to find a blog that shares the story from a partner / carer's point of view. This is Tim Clevinger's story:
FIBROMYALGIA - It Affects Men Too - AS SEEN BY A HUSBAND / CARER -
"In February of 2006, we had our first child, Gabriel. My
wife had to have an emergency induction, and he was born four weeks
early. I knew this procedure would have a physical effect on her, but
what came next, I knew would have longer lasting repercussions. We
became pregnant with our second child six short months after Gabriel’s
birth.
The stress of having two young children within fifteen months was
difficult to bear at times. We were brand new parents to one child, and
before we could even grasp parenting, we had a second child.
At first I thought stress and sleep deprivation was causing her pain.
I always assumed that time would heal, and she would return to be the
active, stress-free person I grew to know and love. This was not the case. She was getting worse with no clear cause.
Needless to say, it was an emotional time for us. She would have
regular doctor’s appointments and they all told us the same thing, “Time
will heal. Take medication.” This wasn’t an appropriate solution. She
only had the option to take some over-the-counter medicine and rest
which only subdued the pain, not relieve it.
Before long, we had our third and fourth children. I think the last
pregnancy is what triggered her in a downward spiral. It wasn’t only
just the pain that was taking its toll; it was also mood swings and
depression. So many days I would come home from work to find her crying
upstairs in our bedroom because of the pain. All I could do was hold her
and reassure her.
I couldn’t empathize with her pain. She resented me for that. What
could I do? I felt helpless. I hated it. The person I love most in this
world was being attacked and there was nothing I could do about it.
The strongest person I’ve ever known is crying to me for help. Many
nights I would cry while she slept; praying to a God I’m not sure exists
in the hopes that someone or something will hear me. She does not know
this until now.
I tried, and still try to help around the house more, and help out
where I can. I like to think that my efforts make a difference, but her
constant painful cringes and crying tell me otherwise.
In December 2012 she found a doctor that solidified the notion that
this in fact was a condition. Finally!!! Now we have a plan, and we have
a means of controlling it. Unfortunately there is no cure for chronic
pain and fibromyalgia. I wish I could take the pain from her.
I know she’s strong enough to fight for her well-being. She can now
take part in physical therapy, and she is always finding natural
remedies and ways to manage her pain.
The person she is today is a complete 180 from the person she was a
year ago. Her mood swings are non-existent, and her depression is
manageable. I know that if she can fight through this, then I can fight
with her. I will never truly understand her pain. Helping her, and
supporting her is the best that I can do. I can only hope that others
that suffer with this physical affliction can find their strength. Every
day my wife impresses me, and every day I admire and love her that much
more for her strength."
So, you see, fibromyalgia affects everyone and sometimes it's very difficult for us patients to fully understand what our partners are going through, especially when all we can focus on is our own pain.
This "Your Stories" feature is reproduced with kind permission from an orginal post by Brandi Clevinger on her blog Being Fibro Mom and was also shared as part of FibroFiday at Fibro Blogger Directory
If you care for a fibromyalgia sufferer you can share your perspective too - just click here.
