As of today, I am officially back on the medication for my fibro. I’ve been off it for about five years now, having stopped taking it after a year so we could try for another baby. (When it looked like that was a strike-out I went back to the doctor and said, “I cannot deal with the pain and physical fatigue any more, and it looks like the second baby isn’t going to happen, so I need to start taking it again even though I don’t want to.” I took it for three weeks and then ta-da, baby conceived, so I stopped again; it didn’t even really get properly underway that time.)

Somewhat ironically, over the past couple of days I’ve felt the best I have in about three months. But my appointment with the doctor was scheduled for today, so in I drove through stupid traffic (an accident on the highway meant I was late and Owlet was fit to be tied after being stuck in the car for an hour and twenty minutes). And it went like this:

Me: So these are my symptoms. I think the fibro is making a comeback.

Dr: Good grief, if it’s this bad, why didn’t you come to me sooner? It’s a chronic illness. How much Tylenol are you taking a day? And periods of using melatonin to knock yourself out and sleep deeply enough?

Me: Um.

Dr: It seems silly to suffer when we have a therapy that worked in the past, doesn’t it?

Me: Well, um… yes? I guess I’m just… stubborn? About taking medication and… other things like admitting it’s bad enough that I need to do something?

Dr: Well, let’s move past that and improve your life quality again, shall we? You’ll feel a lot better on several levels, including mood and outlook above and beyond the physical benefits of less pain and fatigue both muscular and mental, and you can stop beating yourself up.

I am so, so thankful that my new GP is just as supportive and open-minded as my old one. And apparently also knows me really well already. Heh.

This afternoon, Owlet and I have an appointment at her new daycare. It turns out it’s starting operations in two months, so she’ll be starting there the first week of August. I’m excited for her; I know she’ll love it. And it overlaps with a week or so of Sparky’s summer day camp, so he and I will be able to have a couple of hours in the afternoon together alone, which I know he’ll appreciate. We do have some work to do first, though; toilet training needs to formally start this summer, as does Operation Phase Out the Soother.

I owe the blog a post on my spinning and dyeing. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week. My swap partner seems to love the package I sent her, which had some lovely dyed fibre in it, so I’ll show that off, too.