Can Fibro be funny?

It is really cold here. I have to bundle up to go to the Physical Therapists office.

This morning I was heading out to the physical therapist’s office for my noon appointment when I got a phone call. I had already done the necessary checklist: appliances turned off, clothes in their proper places, face made up, hair done, keys, vapes, phone etc. I double checked all of those things because my brain was feeling asleep. You know that feeling where you haven’t gotten enough sleep or you haven’t eaten? When you have fibromyalgia, they call it fibro fog and it can happen even after eight hours and a full protein filled breakfast. So, it’s sort of random.

Then I got the phone call. While talking to this person I closed up the apartment and walked to the elevator. When we got off the phone I ran back to the door and checked. I hadn’t locked the apartment door. I locked it and then walked two blocks to the bus stop. As I was walking up, I panicked. I thought Did I bring the bus tokens? I walked quickly to the bus and took off my backpack and put it on the bench to search. As I removed it, I noticed my shoulder felt weird. I reached up and there was a zip lock baggie underneath my bra strap.

Okay I know that sounds weird, like I was rolling on a bed of zippies and one just got stuck, but no. I have an icepack that started leaking so we put it in two ziplock bags. I stick it under my bra strap because my shoulder swells up for no reason. So I have to put on an icepack every morning. I asked my doc about it, they have no idea. So I took off the ziplock and found the tokens in my book bag. I have no clue how they got in there. I mean I must of put them there but I don’t remember. I sighed in relief and slumped down to wait for the bus, but I couldn’t remember which one so I asked the next two buses, “Do you go to thirty seventh?” Finally one guys said, “No you want the twenty one.” After I was on the bus I remembered I could have just looked it up on my phone and I was going to thirty eighth.

Just as I was coming to this revelation, husband texted me, “Did you eat?” I said, “Ummmm….no…I forgot.” Then I was thinking, dang it, I wasn’t hungry until he said something, but my appointment was at noon so I had no time to get anything.

I reached my appointment desk and said, “I have an appointment with Melody. My name is Danielle Toone.”

She replied, “Her name is Melinda, right?”

I said, “Yeah, what did I say?”


“Oh, sorry.”

“Also, your appointment is at 1:00.”

Once I was down in the restaurant sitting at the table free from any more decisions I thought about the fact that before fibro I would have beaten myself up for days about all of these mistakes. I just thought I was ditsy. Nope, I just have episodes of dits, do to that fickle bitch fibro. Don’t get me wrong Melinda has been the most amazing medical professional to me so I feel bad about messing up her name, but I know why it happened and it’s a relief. I’m not mean spirited or an idiot. That is a relief. Sometimes I can make people laugh with my stories and that is fun too (comic relief.)

I am just now getting into fibromyalgia social media to notice the influx of other people who suffer from this phenomenon. I am an intelligent women who is struck with momentary loss of brain. That’s all. It is horribly inconvenient, and mildly embarrassing, but at least I know what to call it and it’s only temporary. I think we should call it #fibrofunny instead of #fibrofog. I much more prefer to think of it as something that doesn’t change me. Fibro fog sounds like something that is debilitating and blinding. I want to be able to say Well this just happens and laugh it off. So, I have fibro funnies. That’s it. Then the next day, or even later that day I am back to be the smart, sexy friend you know and love.

If I knew anything about street artists, I would tell you who did this, but I love it.


Thanks Momma!

My beautiful Momma!

So, there are always good days and bad, and I think starting a new exercise makes my days bad. I mean seriously bad. So I told you about my toe issues, and the reluctant husband, but the third day into my exercise was a horrible day. I woke up with my legs seriously sore. I want to remind anyone reading that I am severely overweight and sit on my ass for a living. That isn’t an excuse it is a fact. I wanted to overcome that.

I was seriously going to walk that Wednesday, but then also it snowed. My husband spent the car ride to the work trying to talk me out of walking that day. There was ice and snow all over the sidewalks. I was going to go walking anyway. I am a slight klutz though, and Brad was worried. I am better in a car on ice and snow, than I am walking, but I was undeterred. I told Brad I was going to walk and he couldn’t talk me out of it. I was resolute!

That was until my legs developed some sort of necrosis. Sitting at work every time I positioned my legs one way for a few minutes, they didn’t want to move. Then around 11:30 I got a raging nose bleed. I mean it was apocalypse now in my nose. I will spare you the gory details. It lasted only ten minutes but it felt like my brain was coming out of my nose.

I was done. I knew I wasn’t going to walk now. I was sore, upset, and light headed. I happened to have my nook sitting on my desk open to a magazine with a page filled with cute clothes. It wasn’t on a model or anything it was just cut clothes, shoes and jewelry. I started thinking. I will never wear these clothes. I will always be fat, and never ever get to wear these clothes. I was angry and started crying. I then put my head down, embarrassed to be crying at work. I was lucky to be close to break.

I called my Mom crying. I know it sounds stupid and weak, but I was so upset. I think I was just weak and light headed. But I was also upset at my body’s inability to move without pain. I called Mom because I was hurting, sad, and missing her. The first thing she pointed out was that she couldn’t understand me because I was crying. When I calmed down enough to tell her everything she said, “I was just bragging about you to God. I was just telling him how strong you are.”

I told her I didn’t feel very strong.

“You’re just having a bad day. It doesn’t mean you’re done exercising forever.”

I sniffed a lot. I was still blubbering. Her logic was so infallible it made me feel really silly. I was taken aback. I said, “Yeah, well I guess that is true.”

“Take a couple of days off, and then go back to walking,” she said, as if it was no bigger deal than that.

Well that is so brilliant, it just might work! I was so thankful I was still crying. I spent the next five minutes telling her how much I loved her and missed her. I was coming back from break and about to let her go when she said, “I gotta stop telling God how strong you are, maybe he is taking it as a challenge.”

We both started giggling. I said, “Yeah, you gotta quit Job-ing me Mom.”

That is what I love about my Mom, I call crying and by the time I hang up I have let go of my crazy and I am actually smiling.

How dumb am I? This is what usually happens. I usually get upset and disappointed with my exercise performance or make some other mistake and throw everything through the wolves. I was really close to texting my bestie for drinks or my husband and ask him about tacos. That is what happens. I think I messed up, so I might as well give up totally. Then I cope with my disappointment with a couple of cosmos and usually half a pizza. But thanks to the logic and love of my mother and the realization that it isn’t any more complicated than, “It’s not over.”

My parents at my wedding. Don’t they look like spies!

That night I ate within my points, and the next day I went back to walking. It isn’t over. I just picked back up. Doc said five days a week. I will make it. Thanks Mom.