BI have been nagging my PT all week to train me. And I mean all week as we are in the same office, an office of two. Then the day finally comes and I’m chickening out!

I hadn’t realised how much added pain and stress I have been in with my ribs for the last three weeks. But this week it hit me when I realised my paperwork was a mess, or simply MIA or I didn’t remember writing it or not writing it. Which means my fibro was active and giving me the whole fibro fog effect.

Living with fibro you know pain. It’s constant. I have it as the soundtrack of my life but that grinding feeling of my broken ribs edges gliding over each other is something new.

I have never seriously injured myself working out before and I am freaked out. In my work gear having a panic attack on my chair at Home! When I should be warming up at the gym raring to go. I am not gun shy, I am surrender, move into the air raid shelter and baton down the hatches shy.



6 hours after this post I finally get my big girl pants on and force myself to go the the gym.  And yes my ribs niggled but I didn’t bleed from my ears, or have bone protruding out from my ribcage.  Once I relaxed I got back into enjoying it.  I felt the fear and I just did it.  I feel great!!  NOW to be that determined on some other things stressing me out!!





Ugh …

I am slowly going insane

Life is not my winning game

This is not a crying wolf scream

Nor is it blurred from being a dream


I just feel everything is in a mess

That with another injury I am less

I have so many  injuries already

One more makes me more unsteady


I struggle with a broken mind

And now likewise the body kind

Pain is felt in a constant stalker way

I am just its latest, easiest prey


I just want that sweet release

An end of the processes of disease

An end to pain, misery and loss

Those things clinging to me like moss


This is just a bad day, one of many

It is rare for no one to experience any

Tomorrow will be so much better!

Springing back to being a go-getter


Getting the promised peace and goodwill

Not accepting just any made up swill

Smiling falsely till it becomes real

For a day that is very close to ideal



Bar or bar?

Sourced from:  https://dailypost.wordpress.com/postaday/ebook-365-writing-prompts/

Fill in the blank:  Three people walk into a bar . . .

Three people walk into a bar.  The first is short and his injuries are to the top of his head, superficial in the main.  The second is quite tall and he ends up with a broken windpipe, which proves fatal.  The third sees the bar sticking out of the wall, turns left and has a few quiet drinks with friends in the local.

I am not an”in-valid”

I thought that I would share my first week as an in – valid.  I wrote it that way deliberately because I feel that the hair line fracture of my ankle and being on crutches – basically immobile, has lessened me as a human being.  Less than those with the miracle of two working leg humans and I know it is only temporary but it does not feel that way in the moment.

Yes I am being dramatic but you try a week with crutches and navigating life, well in my case, the house.  I can not carry my own shopping, even if I can actually manage the energy to go shopping.  I hate shopping, but now that I can’t, I want to go shopping.  I may or may not be a little irritable ALL the time, at everything.

My dignity was the first thing to die.  At the hospital, in screech worthy agony when the 12, yes 12 xrays of my left side were taken.

No please, I am serious, please do not help, it will just make it hurt more.  I mean where are you going to hold, EVERYTHING aches!!

I do not know what hurts the most, it just all hurts!!  And, yes I might well look fine, but I am in frigging agony so stopping assessing my PTSD created affect and LISTEN to me!!!

There was a second tragic loss.  I was reaching into the cupboard to get a plate down and there ended the story of a cup that was in the way. Luckily, the set it belongs to can be bought as separates.   I feel there may be more of such purchases in the next 6 weeks.  I refuse to use plastic plates and they are too flexible for me to carry with the crutches.

The third loss was two boxes of chocolates, yes two and don’t judge me!! When I bought them, I said I would give them to our parents but they were like calling my name. I can not just have one, sooo … we all know how this ends.  Maybe the empty boxes could be useful??

I think the chocolate demise was the outward manifestation of my depression over the fall etc etc

So our front door is on the bottom floor.  If the door bell rings I go out on the upstairs balcony and shout down.  I am very clear, that if I climb down those stairs and you are not someone I personally must see or asked to visit, then you better be ready to run.  If you want to offer me religious salvation, (which since you do not know me, is more about your needs than mine) it will not be me needing salvation when I finally get down those steps.  What is the saying that I am thinking of, oh yes,

“I will end you”.

Or, since I dragged my ass down those stairs, say your spiel, then help me curb my shopping urges.  Drive me up town and feel fee to carry stuff for me while we walk and you talk.  I really think I am saved … from the lust of shopping freedom but my religious beliefs are not your business. Wait, if you are on a bike then get right back on it mister!!!

I was so excited that I could shower this morning, alone that I sent my male friend a text saying that I had showered alone this morning.  That it was not a “dirty” text but a clean one lol  It is like the high point of my week and he writes back “don’t you normally shower alone?” – I give up lol I am laughing so hard that I can’t text anymore and will explain it later.

I am going into town now.  I am determined to get some more fixings for my scrap booking job (apparently 400 dots and a roll of tape was not enough).  Yup 47 years of photographs sorted because it keeps me off my ankle.  I am enjoying it, soaking in each memory and talking to my beloved ghosts about them (don’t ask – it may be the pain killers, although I do believe that my deceased loved ones are always with me).

Have a great day and thanks for reading.  If you see someone differently “abled” just think how much inner strength they have, to be in the same place you are.

6 weeks, 42 days, ugh …

Here I lay upon the floor 
Too far from the door
Even further to the chair
How the heck did I get here?

I crawl down the hallway 
Those cat biscuits in the way
Like sharp digs on a raw bruise
A memory that I could lose

Trying to reach the phone
Kinda of scared, all alone 
Call 111 and then just wait
Reached out to a mate

Slither down the stairs 
Putting aside all fears  
To unlock the front door 
Come on in, one and all

All day repeating the story
Knock to head, forgot the gory
I just hurt, almost everywhere
Xray times 12, here and there

I just want to finally leave
Take the pain and just grieve
Go home to begin to recover
Break in ankle but no other

Six weeks off my left foot
Speechless, just no retort
But no cast, so good, right?
Crutches, not a pretty sight

Why me? Why, oh why me?
Heal it faster, my ardent plea
I will update you, as I go
Hoping I don’ sink too low

Just Shoot Me

If I was a horse you would shoot me
You would, we are humane to animals
You would take one look, avert your eyes
Take your shot and perform a mercy killing

I can’t be non weight bearing on crutches
I am just too feeble and weak to do so
On bed rest my muscles continue to waste
And all I seem able to do, is just watch

Destined to be an observer in my own life
Forever sidelined in one way or another
Why do I even bother to attend anymore?
I am just mocked for my efforts, even by me

So load up your rifle, take aim and shoot
Put me out of my agony and misery
No one else will notice, I will thank you
Take me gently to a peaceful place