I had been looking forward to the mini-vacation for over a month. Leaving for the hotel in the afternoon, going to the show by a Micheal Jackson double in the evening, then enjoying a relaxed evening at the bar (with non-alcoholic cocktails thanks to my meds) before going to sleep in a comfy hotel bed. Breakfast buffet in the morning, and then slowly making our way back home.
Two days earlier, I had had physiotherapy, and even though we had some stress with water damage that afternoon, by Thursday, our leave date, I was feeling well. I had slept reasonably well that night, my tension was manageable, and my concentration and energy levels were at “medium” (can’t even remember how “high” feels like so “medium” is good). It was, all in all, one of my better days. I’ve been having more of these since starting on my new meds even though I’m still cautious, thinking it might be just a phase before slumping.
Anyway, I was in a good mood. We left home a bit later than planned, and then had train delay, but I was still in a good mood when we arrived at the hotel. We checked in, went up to our room to put our bags there, and then went on exploring the hotel for a bit. After about forty minutes of exploring, I could feel exhaustion and pain in my legs creeping in so we went to the lobby and had some frozen joghurt while relaxing and talking.
Then we got ready for dinner and the show. My black dress reminded me pretty clearly of the fact that I had gained weight since quitting work in January but thanks to the way it was cut, the belly didn’t show too much. I made a mental note to try on clothes before leaving home for an event next time and was just grateful that I could still pull it off (otherwise, I would had sported a very elegant combo of jogging pants and wide t-shirt–at least, the t-shirt was black).
Dinner was really good even though I felt slightly out of place in the rather fancy-feeling restaurant, and feeling a ping of regret for not being able to order a white wine to my fish. Afterwards, we made our way to the show, which took place in the event part of the hotel. A Micheal Jackson tribute show. I ordered an Ipanema (my favourite non-alcoholic cocktail) and was not disappointed–might have been the best one I’ve ever had, actually.
When the show started, the first thing I realised was that it was too loud. It reminded me of the few times within the past decade that I had actually gone to a cinema, which usually ended with me having a raging headache by the end because of volume and neck and back tension building up. I hoped this wouldn’t be the case this time.
The show itself was well-made even though I realised how little of Micheal’s music I knew, and that part of it just isn’t my cup of tea. Still, I was in good company, had a great drink to sip, and an interesting stage show and choreo to watch.
If only my health had played along… But no, no such luck for me. My back and neck tensed up during the show, leading to me being uncomfortable and in pain, and the volume and everything slowly sapped my energy. By the end of the show, I was so exhausted that I went almost directly to bed. In effect, Micheal’s double had stolen every spoon I had left.
The next morning, I woke up with a bad case of cramped neck muscles from the pillow (it was too soft for me). I also realised as the day wore on that not only had the show left me completely exhausted on Thursday evening, it had also borrowed into my spoons for the next day (and even Saturday).
The show, this one 90-minute show, had left me exhausted and without much concentration or energy for two days. This is my reality now. Fibromyalgia is a chronic disease that will alter your life. In my case, because I had pushed myself to ignore my deteriorating health for so long because no doctor had taken me seriously, the changes were drastic, and I’m still discovering just how drastic. I’m hoping with all my heart that this phase of better days will last, that it is actually an effect of my new medication, and that it will not suddenly poof again. It has allowed me to get back to studying, to appear from the fibro fog that had clouded my mind for most of this year. Not every day is the same, and not every day is one of these better days, but right now, I’m experiencing more better than bad days. I will just have to stay clear of Micheal Jackson doubles, it seems.