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Physical Therapy & Fibromyalgia

Alternate Title: All in My Head Ironically, my mom and I ended up going to the same physical therapy place at the same time, so that was kind of fun, but we never got to carpool, which was lame. We were still Tiger Balm Buddies, though. I was nervous, as is the norm, but PT ended up being amazing. My therapist’s name was Guillermo, and he was pretty neat. We would make awkward small talk or sit in absolute silence while I did my exercises. I would say hilarious things to my sister like “my physical therapist Guillermo would never treat me like that.”  They wanted to see my crooked spine multiple times a week, which adds up quickly when you have horrible insurance coverage and it costs like $80 per 45-minute appointment. So, as amazing as Guillermo may have been, and as much as the PT may have actually been helping my back pain (which it was), I eventually told them I had to stop going because it was just too expensive.  The amazing thing about this kind of therapy is that...
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Brain Fog

Alternate Title: I Don't Remember I am going to take a break in the narrative to explain a huge issue that has gradually overtaken my life.  Pain and fatigue were the two major issues I was facing at this point in my life, but there was a third that had been pushed to the backburner, until it became impossible to ignore. For context, I used to be a star-student, would fly through a chapter book every day, and passionately loved to read and write. I aced English every year and it was my favorite. I was writing my own fantasy novel, journaled often, and even had a poetry series that I worked on for fun. I was a highly intellectual student who thrived on a good report project or debate topic. Now, I feel like if I went back to school, I would cry every day. I have abandoned all my writing projects because I can’t do them without massive frustration. I can never find the words to say, and my family gets frustrated now listening to me trying to talk/tell a story because the words I want...
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A Very Incorrect Spine, Plus a Brain Cyst For Good Measure

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Alternate Title: It Gets Better! But Wait, It Gets Worse As it turns out, some girls grow out of their major dysautonomia symptoms. As it also turns out, I am one of those lucky ladies. I still struggle with orthostatic hypotension and heat flashes and whatnot, but not to the same extent I did before. I can get out of bed in the morning and be fine, I just can’t do crazy things like… bend down on purpose. My head still has to stay over my heart, but I became a relatively normal-functioning person. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, as it was gradual, but at some point I just…got better. I stopped walking with mobility aids. Later, I was able to go off midodrine. It was a miracle.  I don’t even know if I truly realized how well I had become until I became super constipated and fainted off the toilet again. Then I realized, wow, I haven’t done that in a really long time and have actually taken this entire time for granted, and wow, that really sucks even more than I remember...
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