5/22/04 - Saturday Morning

Yesterday I was too flat-out tired to do anything...
The heat and humidity of the past couple days has been enormous, and I'm realizing how lucky I am to have central air-conditioning. Of course, because I tend to 'stress' so much, I'm worried that it could be on its last legs ... 30 year old unit, runs all the time now, have to thump the wall beside it sometimes to get it to come on, and the unit itself, outside, is rusting and leaning to one side a bit...

Yesterday was Friday, and it was Nash's last full week of school: next week he'll go three full days, and then they have a last 'hour' day to pick up report cards, say good bye to teachers and classmates, etc. It's so hard for me during the days now, when he's been at school all day; I know this will be a rough summer for both of us, because he'll be bored, and I can't get out and do anything 'fun' with him. I'm definitely in worse shape than I was last summer, and I anticipate some major disputes this year as I try to get Nash involved more in chores around the house. He's having a difficult time understanding that, at 12, it's time he learned to assume some daily chores anyway -- that it's not 'just because' I'm unable to do as much...

The stormy weather has stayed pretty much to the North of us the past couple days (Thank God!), but there's a front that continues to hover over Northern Iowa, Illinois, that threatens to shift southerly in the next few days. Because I'm prone toward negativity, I'll say bad weather'll probably visit us again over the weekend or Monday.
My fondest wish (besides being healthy again!) is to have a sturdy 2-3 bedroom bungalow with a nice, dry basement. Several weeks ago, my Dad (nearing 80 now) was looking into buying a house in a small town not far from here: he said he wanted to see Nash and I get into a house while we could, at a low price and while he was able to 'help us out'. But I told him we would only join him in that endeavor if he, himself, were going to live in the house, so that Nash and I could insure he lived 'at home and with family' through his later years, where we could take care of him as his needs increase. He was happy with that for a week, went through all the motions (made the offer, applied for the loan at a bank, etc.), even seemed happy about it; he, Nash and I visited the house twice more during that week, and Nash and I both fell in love with it, AND the prospect of being closer, and of more help, to Dad...
But he changed his mind and stopped the process just as the offer was being accepted, the bank approved... said it was because Nash and I 'didn't want it', that he had wanted it for us, not himself, and that I wasn't letting him do it the way he wanted.
I told him we did want the house, and that we had agreed to move into it whether he did right away or not--that he would always have his room and many of his belongings already there and waiting for when he did want/need to move in...
I'm a little frustrated, to say the least. My sis and I talked about it, and we agree, again, that he's at an age where he wants to do the right thing, but later hits a 'bad day' and feels there's no point to anything. We both worry about this, because he's frequently going between impulsiveness, then reluctance. It goes with aging, we know...

Anyway. That would have been nice, to have the peace of mind knowing that Nash and I would've always been around to help Dad in the coming years, and, of course, knowing we had a home with a basement, something to pass down to Nash someday... But it didn't happen, and we move on...

I've just noticed, and decided, that I can't keep going back over everything I write, and meticulously correcting spelling, grammar, etc. It takes too long, and I'd rather go with my train of thought as it flows, fat-fingers be damned.
This is another depressing aspect of FM: the stiffness and pain is everywhere, and my once graceful and adept hands now feel like swollen sausages, my once fresh and quick-witted thinking now rushing at best, muddled and confused at worst...

The headache has only gotten worse. I know some of this might be 'rebound' effect, from the meds I take, but last time I tried telling my Doc this, he referred me to the neuro Doc. And that Doc sent me in for a Spinal Tap... and now I wait for the results. I have to somehow survive, and live day to day, with this crushing, splitting headache-that-never-goes-away, for weeks, 'til someone there finds the time to look at my CSF results. My Sis wondered yesterday why they haven't called yet, and I told her the Doc's nurse told me (last week) that it would be three weeks probably before they would get the results back from the lab. It seems they're not overly concerned, because my 'new' symptoms have been around for several weeks, and that must mean they're not life-threatening.
Okay...
They're just 'quality-of-life threatening'.

Took a little walk this morning around my yard, looking over my little garden... the peonies (I have 9 planted, 6 of which are in full bloom) are magnificent, and their fragrance is heavenly, like roses. I have been keeping my vase, indoors, stocked with cuttings all week, and took some out to Mom's grave (as well as my late Grandma's, Emma Mae, whom I never knew but am fascinated by, in my family tree research). My climbing Blaze rose (planted this Spring as a 1 year old starter) is not blooming yet, but has a mass of buds, and a lot of healthy growth. I have one each of Grandiflora and Floribunda roses planted in large containers on the deck, and the 'Golden Sunrise' (Golden Sunshine?) rose has already produced two beautful yellow blooms, with another on the way; the other rose is a white rose, and I had some trouble with it at first (blackspot, leaf miners) but it seems to be getting healthy now, and has one fat bud about ready to open...
I've also, in the past year and this, planted:
Weigelia - beuatiful, lush and sprawling bush, with profuse bright magenta 'trumpet-like' blooms
Honeysuckle - I need a bigger trellis as this plant is starting to spread out, can't wait for the clusters of buds to open...
Hydrangea - new babies, this year, two in the ground, and three in containers; no blooms expected this year, but they're healthy and growing...
Rhododendron - two beautiful bushes along the partial sun area of our home -- they were vibrant with deep pink blooms initially (in April), but seem to be content just growing leaves now...hope they'll bloom again this summer?
Lilac - two of these, different varieties, with one a two year old this year, and it had a nice show of sweet-smelling blossom-clusters this Spring. I think the one I planted this Spring will wait to bloom NEXT year...
White Gladiolus - there is a row of them out front, started with about 8 when I planted the bulbs three years ago. Now, there's more like 20 that are starting to come up, usually bloom about late June, early to mid July. I love these plants, just wish they'd bloom more than once a summer for me ...

I've also planted HollyHocks last year, and it seems many self-seeded, because dozens are coming up on their own!
I planted Lily-of-the-Valley and Astilbe in the back part of the yard, where it is shady, but they are not flourishing (yet?)...
Also, among my garden, some annuals, the obligatory Petunias, Alyssum, some tiny cobalt blue ground flowers I can't remember the name of, red bachelor buttons, two sunflowers, an assortment of (blue) Morning Glories, (Red) Cardinal Creepers and (white) Moonflowers...
My "hopefuls": I started some salvia/sage and creeping phlox in the front yard at the base of my three year old dwarf (Yellow Delicious) Apple Tree, and have a container of Lupine started on the porch, as well as Camellias (sp?) planted in the partial sun between the Rhododendrons...

And then there's the Clematis -- three varieties which I, without much experience or forethought, planted right next to each other, 2 years ago: they are rampant, in their third year and threatening to overtake the deck -- and any surrounding flowers. As much of a pain it is to daily 'guide' their tendrils and branches away from my roses and peonies, I love their summer-long show... One flowers in Spring (right about now), big, fat white double blossoms... Another will give a June show of brilliant magenta and purple-blue flowers ... and the strongest Clematis produces masses of small white blossoms from July to October...
I need to get a pergola built over my deck for those happy, growing Clmatis...SOON...

Enough about the flowers.
I used to talk endlessly like this about my writing and art projects!
I've run off too long this morning about flowers...
Glancing out my window just now, it looks like clouds have come in and the sunny blue-sky morning is gone.
Need to wake Nash before it gets too late, as we have to go and collect my "Apple stuff' from the flea market I had it consigned at; they're closing down for good next week...
Don't know where I'm going to put it all, as the shed is full...

Out of here...

May 22nd, 2004 AM Pain Log

Wake: 7:10am (headache, back and hip pain, lower ext. weakness, stiffness) (est. total 6 hrs. sleep - but woke three or four times due to pain, and took 2 Tylenol Extra (500mg ea.) about 3:30am) Meds: 60mg Celexa (a daily); 1 Flexeril - at 7:20am Pain: headache = 6-7 bodyaches = 5 stiffness =6 nausea = 0 weakness = 5 bm = 2 Notes: 2+ cups of coffee with sweetening/cream

5/20/04 - Ooooh, My Aching Bones

Hard to get to sleep last night, but I was a bad girl (stayed up till midnight checking out the AI forum); as a result, I couldn't get sleepy enough till I had taken more pain meds (Advil) and then tossed and turned for a couple more hours....
Had to wake at 4:30 am to stagger to the bathroom, nausea and splitting headache hit, so here I am, quasi-awake, in mortal agony, with only (maybe) 3 hours of sleep under my belt...
I will be messed up for days now.

Starting today, I will begin my morning posts with a 'wake up log' of my pain levels, meds and sleep tally. It's what I should be doing everyday, but have failed at doing the handwritten attempts...

May 20th, 2004 AM Log

Wake: 4:35am (cramping, headache, nausea) (est. 2 hrs. sleep) Meds: 2 Butabital at 5am (*hasn't helped yet*) Pain: headache = 6-7 bodyaches = 4-5 stiffness = 5 nausea = 3-5 weakness = 3 bm = 6 Notes: 1 cup of coffee with sweetening/cream

Godzilla headache...must....go....lie....down....

Later...

5/19/04 - An Ode to Slow

Okay, I woke up in such terrible shape this morning I've only been able to get up on feet since 2pm this afternoon.
This is the worst part of FM: when you feel 'okay' and are having a 'good' day (say, pain at about 3 - 4 on the 10 scale), you look around and think 'oh, my, I have so many things that MUST get done today, while I'm able'... Even at your best effort, you're lucky to get to 2 laundry loads of the 5 waiting, all the dishes washed save for the dinner plates, coffee mugs and pots and pans (plan to do them tomorrow, even though you know it'll be more like a few days) and maybe the front yard mowed (forget weeding--it just doesn't happen anymore)....

So the next two or three days are spent in a fog and haze of pain and stiffness, pain hitting 7 - 8, some fever and overheating spells, nausea and a terrible gnashing headache that all the Imitrex or Butabital can't touch.
I make little lists on those 'down days' -- lists that I try to break tasks down into small parts that can be done, a little bit at a time, daily, so I can better conserve my limited strength. But even though it sounds good (Monday - wash coffee mugs and silverware, do 1 load of laundry, dust bricabrac and wall pictures; Tuesday - wash glasses and cereal bowls, fold and put yesterday's laundry away, vacuum living room; Wednesday - mow front yard and water flowers, wash dinner plates and coffee mugs; Thursday - you get the idea), it just doesn't implement well...
...especially if I'm under a migraine for four days and almost everything gets put on hold (Nash calls them the 'paper plate nights'). So I wind up doing 'emergency' chores: wash 2 plates, 2 bowls, 2 sets of silverware and a glass and mug each ... wash 3 or four pair of jeans, underwear and shirts for Nash ...

When I was growing up, I remember Mom was always tired at the end of the day, and my Dad (an Air Force seargent who worked on the electrical systems of jets and test planes in Edwards AFB) would come home and yell at Mom: "Where's Supper? I want supper on the table at 5:30 every night, not 6:30!" (or 4:45... that happened a couple of times and was pretty bizarre).... "What did you do all day? This house is a mess!" (it wasn't... my Mom was quite neat, but Dad would tell her to 'clean up this house' if even a couple magazines were on the sofa instead of their magazine rack).
Anyway, Mom usually wound up crying. She'd be in the kitchen trying to be angry at Dad (instead of sad), banging her fist on the counter a couple times, clanging a pan on the stove or slamming a cupboard door shut so he'd know she was mad....

I think it was about the time I was nine or ten that I started helping Mom in the kitchen (instead of lamming out the back door to play), mostly stirring and stuff like that. She showed me how to snap green beans, and rinse limas, so sometimes I jumped at the chance to do that for her. She tried showing me how to peel apples and potatoes with a paring knife several times, but I stubbornly used that nifty gadget, the potato peeler, on both, instead. Still do, to this day...

It seemed my Mom was always working, always cooking, cleaning up after supper, doing dishes, sweeping... and hanging just washed laundry on the clothesline in the backyard to dry. Back then, in the late 60's, Mom really tried pressing Dad to get us a dryer, as they were cheaper, and almost everyone had one by then.
Dad put up a second clothesline...

I helped Mom with hanging the clothes on the lines. We did this even through winter, because in the Mojave Desert in California, it never really got so cold we couldn't. But Spring and Summer was best. How many people know how wonderful it feels to hang wet laundry on a backyard clothesline?
...a cold, damp sheet flapping against your face and arms on a hot morning, reaching into the clothespin bag from where it hung on the bobbing line for another old, squeaky pin - pinning the sheet, smoothing wrinkles from its damp drape -- then scooting the bag up the line some more as you repeat the process till the whole sheet has been hung in a long fold over the clothesline...

We'd go out later in the afternoon, and it was my job to take clothes from my Mom as she took them down from the line. Again, the pins squeaked and creaked as she did so, clacking as she dropped them with her right hand into the clothespin bag as she went, her left hand laying the crisp, sun-warmed dresses, washcloths, towels, jeans and Dad's numerous olive-green fatigues across my waiting arms. I'd run a heaping armful over to the big basket at the end of the clothesline, moving it up a little as I went along... Everything smelled like grass, sunshine and sky, and you could still feel the heat of the desert wind in them even after they had all been brought inside to the dining room table, where I tried helping Mom fold things before she shooed me off, told me to go play.

I know my Dad worked hard, and life had never been easy for him.
But even as a child, I (and my 1 year younger sister) worried about Mom. She seemed so frail, always feeling 'fainty' and having to sit down. Hot days were worse on her than anything else, but she would still do the laundry, dishes and housework till she was ready to drop. We had no air-conditioning back then (we couldn't afford it), just one old metal fan Mom and Dad had bought when they were newlyweds in 1956, and that was always in a window in the living room, blowing out instead of in. In the desert, humidifiers helped to cool things down a little (we called them 'water coolers'), but I know my Mom suffered terribly from the heat...and this a girl born and raised in the Deep South of Lafayette, Alabama. Or maybe it was all the work she had to do as a housewife and mother of four kids.

I often wonder that my mother didn't have Fibromyalgia all that time (it's said to run in families), but Doctors just didn't know what to call it. It was unheard of for a housewife to shirk her duties 'just because she felt a little tired', so Dad was especially hard on her when he came home and found Mom sitting down, fanning herself, or, worse, that she had been lying down on the sofa for a bit after a 'fainty' spell...
Mom always tried to explain that she hadn't been feeling well, and that she had 'always been slow'... I often wonder that she hadn't used the word 'slow' when in fact she was actually stiff, and sore, most of the time, even as a young woman.

No, I have not digressed, although it may seem that way at first glance...

I think my main observations this afternoon have come about because I was just outside, from 2:30 to 3:30 on this hot, humid afternoon, attempting to mow as much of the yard as I could. The rain we've had the past few days made it grow incredibly fast...
Afterwards, I came inside, and had to sit down with a cold glass of iced tea, and admit I felt 'fainty'.
And admit that, now, the dishes will not get touched tonight.
As I write this, I can feel the sweat that drenched me only an hour ago finally drying in the cool (air-conditioned) half-dimness of this little room I call an office, and can finally catch my breath a little better; but, from my hips down, all is trembling weakness, and I know I am done for the day. Again.

My son just walked in from school a few minutes ago, and I've allowed him to watch cartoons in the living room a few minutes while I get to a stopping point here. He knows I will tell him to get on his homework as soon as I'm able to hobble from here to there, but he also knows he's safe for spell.

Because I'm going to be 'slow' this afternoon...

5/18/04 - Stormy Weather Tonight...

I HATE the severe thunderstorms here in Central Illinois, because there's almost always tornado warnings attached...
Tonight we were hit by the second biggest storm of the Spring season (the first, about two weeks ago, did indeed spawn a tornado, that nearly wiped Utica, Il, from the map, and killed 8 or 9 in the process, I recall), and this one had two tornado touchdowns, with one on the ground just a couple miles west of where we live.
Where we live.......in a mobile home park. A NICE one, mind you, perhaps a solid 7 or 8 on a scale of 1 to 10 (with 1 being the worst 'trailer park' a person could imagine), but a manufactured/mobile home (or by any other name) is still what it is. UNSAFE in storms with high winds, and definitely not the place to be when tornado warnings go off...

Nash, my son, and I had just gotten home from a short run to the grocery store, and I was making us both something in the way of supper when the Weather Channel warning alert started beeping, and we saw we were under a tornado warning. It's hard to stay calm, even harder to calm my young son down, but trying to settle him down while I'm trying to settle me down is very, very hard. We turned on the battery radio to listen to the local news, and when they said one had touched down just 4 miles away and was heading in our direction, Nash and I went into action, shutting things off, grabbing our jackets (and Nash's just-pulled-out-of-the-oven supper) and plunging out into the pouring rain. I MISS my Camaro: I could've had it UNLOCKED when we got to it, instead of fumbling for the keys in the wind and rain (and thunder and lightning) while we were trying to keep our hoods up.
We went to my neice's place, on the Northeast side of Normal, where we planned to hang out with her and wait out the storm. The drive there will have me HURTING for days now, as the rain was so furious that I could barely see to drive... had to hunch over the wheel, my face almost up against the windshield as I drove across town. There was so much water on the roads that a couple times I felt the wheels under us leave the pavement! So by the time we got to Trisha's, my neck, shoulders, arms and back were all tied up in knots... We watched American Idol (Fantasia had better win this thing!) then drove back home after it was over, as the storm finally left the area. I took some extra meds for my sore muscles, and hope I won't be in too much extra pain tomorrow...
I've been saying this a LONG time: MH (manufactured/mobile homes) parks should be required to have one to several 'storm shelters' onsite that tenants could access during severe weather! I mean, how much sense does it make that none offer this?? Or at least allow tenants to have one of those 'pods' (little 10 X 10 underground storm shelters--they look like tiny submarines) installed on the lot they're leasing...

I wonder if there's anyplace in America that's 'weather safe'... so people like me, who are terrified of Spring and Summer because of the severe thunderstorms and tornadoes, could move there, and literally 'take a load off' in the stress department. New England might be nice, but the winters there (blizzards) can be dangerous, too. And in the SouthWest, the wildfires in the summer have to be reckoned with...UNLESS one moves to the far southern desert edges of Arizona/New Mexico, where there's nothing growing there (like trees, grass) to burn in the first place. And forget the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts -- hurricanes. Never hear much bad about Northern Idaho, or Montana...BUT, how 'bout those grizzly bears and mountain lions? I've seen too many movies (Night of the Grizzly, The River's Edge) to ever feel comfortable about living in those mountains, in a cabin or house, when I'd be up against genuine predators in the winter months...
And...get this...with all of the above going on in my life tonight, my son and I are still planning on going to see that movie coming out in a week or two: "The Day After Tomorrow".
I may have to see my Doc for a NEW anti-anxiety med after THAT...

Signing off for the night...

5/18/04 - Same Day, Still Morning, Finishing up for now...

I think I can do this...
Not sure yet why, but I'll do anything for a reason to keep busy during (and in between, although that's rare) pain episodes.

For the uninitiated (and perhaps more as a confirmation to myself?):
Fibromyalgia (also known as Fibro, FM, FMS) is a disease.
Some call it a 'syndrome' -- ha! -- but those of us afflicted know the difference, and I won't go into semantics here now...
Here's the standard definition:

According to the diagnostic criteria for Fibromyalgia Syndrome (FMS) published by the 1990 American College of Rheumatology (ACR). Fibromyalgia patients must have:

Widespread pain in all four quadrants of their body for a minimum of three months.
At least 11 of the 18 specific tender points
Although the above criteria, created for research purposes, focuses on tender point count, a recent consensus of 35 FMS experts has determined that a person does not need to have the required 11 tender points to be diagnosed and treated for FMS.

Many people who have less than 11 of the required tender points may still be diagnosed with FMS as long as they have widespread pain and many of the common symptoms associated with FMS. Commonly associated symptoms include:

Fatigue
Sleep disorder (or sleep that is unrefreshing)
Jaw pain (TMJ dysfunction
Post-exertion malaise and muscle pain
Numbness and tingling
Skin sensitivities
Morning stiffness
Irritable bowel
Chronic headaches (tension type or migraines)
Cognitive or memory impairment
Menstrual cramping and PMS
Dizziness or impaired coordination.

Reprinted from Arthritis and Rheumatism Journal, © 1990.

I do have 'all of the above', save for the 'Menstrual cramping, etc.'. That part of my life as a woman is now over, thanks to a quick-thinking Doc's decision and, consequently, misdiagnosis 3 years ago. Turns out my sudden onset of symptoms back then had absolutely nothing to do with 'female problems'. But I paid the ultimate price for his mistake: I can no longer have children, and surgical menopause only exacerbated the awakening FM symptoms.
There are a lot of what-if's that I could wallow in:

IF only the father of my son had stuck around 12 years ago and 'done right' by us, I might have a better 'support network' now... unlike a perfect family unit (Mom, Dad, the Kid(s)...) I have no one to 'take care' of my son and I as I struggle to adapt to this invisible life-wrecker of a disease.

IF my former boss had only understood and been patient a few more months ... I was 'let go' after too many absences (they won't say 'because of illness'--they'd be too easily sued).

IF my Mother was still alive, I know she'd be of immense emotional support and encouragement to me these days. We never grow out of needing a hug from Mom...

IF cancer had struck me instead, I know I'd get more support and understanding from family, friends, doctors, people in general... (ouch. know that was a terrible IF to include on this list, but when you're in pain every single day and night, 'terminal' starts to take on a new -- and somewhat gentler -- meaning...

In short, my life has become the 'poster child' of 'before and after':

Before:
Even as a mother in 1999, I was attractive and dating (several men -- one was 10 years younger than me, a guitarist in a local rock band), going out dancing at least two or three nights a month, working at a local IT firm as Project Manager & Art Director, driving a 1998 Black Camaro with a $1400 stereo system, rollerblading with my son after school, working out at Gold's Gym every afternoon (except Saturdays), weighing in at a perfect size 7, natural dishwater-blonde, writing on my 'great American novel', playing frisbee and/or catch with my son at the park several times a week, I could go on...

After:
Fast forward to now, four years later: 80 lb weight gain (size...ummmm, 1/2XX or 22w), hair has grown in dark mousey brown (and can't do a thing with it due to so many meds), no social life, unemployed and financially broken (bankruptcy looms), driving a rusted 'road grey' (no wonder people keep running into me--this car blends into the highway!) 1992 Chevy Cav, limited walking with a cane and oftimes shopping from a wheelchair, almost two dozen meds to keep track of (not including the other odd dozen or so that were hit-and-misses), several-times-weekly Doc appointments (five docs), repeated tests/XRays/bloodwork, on the Soc. Security Disability applicant merry-go-round (2 and 1/2 years this June), on Link (foodstamps) along with the standard glowers of disapproval from the folks behind me in line at checkouts everywhere, barely able to check the daily mail, enduring countless nights of less than 2 or 3 hours of sleep, being stared at by little children, run over by young men (who really should know better than to bolt in front of a woman hobbling along with a cane unless they're planning to open the door for her -- instead of letting it slam in my face in their sprint to get to the checkout/cash window/order counter before I do)...
Hmmmm, I'm sorry. That sounded bitter, didn't it?

Wear my shoes. They flat out hurt, and would put even Mother Teresa in a bad mood...

It's hard looking at my life "as it was" when I am in it, "as it is" now.

In this online diary (okay, Blog, then) I will try to evacuate as much bitterness from me as possible, and hope I can mulch in in some hope as I go.
A daily video-cam of me and my life for a few weeks might serve the same purpose (when played back later; I am sure I would be blown away by the ;after' of me, and perhaps work a little harder to soften the edges...), but that would cost money (which I do not have at my disposal these days).
So I will do this. Or try to.
Depending on how much pain I am in the morning, or afternoon, or evening...
This morning was actually a 'good' morning, in that the stiffness wasn't so bad, although my head was pounding (I've had the same moderate-to-severe top-of-head headache now for four weeks -- last week's brain scan looked okay, so I was sent home to endure this however long it wants to stick around).
I did have some odd work to do this morning (promised a former client I would update an ad banner for them--three weeks ago) but put it aside in favor of this (the Blog).
I feel a little better for having done so much writing this morning (although the nature of it bothers me a little), but a lot of guilt now for having procrastinated yet another day on an obligation...
The downside? As I've been sitting now for almost an hour, it will take me five minutes just to get to my feet, another ten to hobble to the living room, and an hour or two for the pain in my lower back -- and extreme weakness in my hips and legs -- to subside...
It was worth it, I guess. :-)

5/18/04 - Stumbling Along...

...as I try to get better acquainted with this thing called 'blog'.
As my days of pain vary, I recognize the need to set up some shortcuts, namely something that will allow me to click one button, type my thoughts and rants (however brief or unexpectedly lengthy) and hit 'publish'...
Hmmmm. On-the-fly-Blogging...

Went through a few momentary panics... when I went back to view this Blog, I first discovered my (sorry, lengthy) introduction was gone...then, got that back, but this post was gone... Hopefully these things will find each other.
Add to my medical soup: PTS (Post Traumatic Stess)
As if there is some 'equation' going on in my head, at any given moment, I am prone to fearing 'something bad' will happen in the next.

When every keystroke is painful, every word becomes valuable by its mere existence. Am I setting myself up for disaster here, in that, at any moment, when I hit 'save/publish', my words will disappear into the ether?
Today my 'fibrofog' is severe...and I know I would not only fail to remember anything I've written up to this point, I might be too dismayed to try again (at least, today anyway)...

Here goes...

The First Entry (or, "Stop Thinking Like a Writer & Just POST!")

Hmmmmm... Life is a neverending series of ironies.
This morning, I embarked on this project (online diary) with both weariness and interest. I half fell asleep during the setup, but went to get another cup of coffee (PapaNicholas' Hazelnut Creme, the ONLY coffee I drink thesedays) so I could come back to this in earnest...
Wow...picking a template.
How could I not choose this one, when I saw its creator was 'Jeffrey Zeldman'?
You see, somewhere in the mid 90's, when I was still incredibly active and productive (mother of a pre-schooler, illustrator to various sci-fi mags and game companies, writer of not one but two 'in-progress' novels, cocktail waitress by night...), I brought home my first computer, an Apple Performa 6320, and discovered I had a knack for understanding (nay, more like speaking!) the code called HTML...
I took my craft to the WWW, and, somewhere along the way, in the midst of those all-night forays and SimpleText experiments, I discovered a very talented and knowledgeable internet guru: Jeffry Zeldman.
About 80% of what I know now today evolved from things I learned from his vast (and clever, even for 1996!) web design help site...

So I found it quite amusing (hey, I take it when it hits me!) that now, as my career in graphic design, illustration and web development lies in dusty CD cases on the cluttered shelves above me, I would embark on a new project that would somehow involve the notorious JZ...
Thank you, Jeffry Zeldman, for being there (and here)... :-)
And that is stated with utmost respect.

It was roughly 4am when I started this (pain has a way of waking us FM'ers at the godawfulest hours) and now 7:45am at this point: my 12 year old son is lying on the couch in the living room, watching Cartoon Network and pretending he has nowhere to be in the next fifteen minutes; he has been unresponsive to my five-minute-incremented warnings to get dressed and ready for the schoolbus, so it looks like I may be taking leave of this entry in its midst...

Back soon. Maybe...