Celebrating the Good and Flare-Free Days

I have written my share of posts depicting the darker side of chronic pain. If I had a motto for my blog, it would be that I tell the whole truth, in all its gritty and not-so-pleasant details.

For over two months from mid-September through the end of November, I went through a massive flare that left me unable to get out of bed except to fulfill the least of my obligations. Somehow I managed to get through my few hours of work each week (I’m going to call that a miracle), but other than that, I didn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom and get food to eat.

It was a dark time, and I was unsure if I would come out the other side. Perhaps I would stay lost in the darkness forever.

I am thankful because, at least for now, I am seeing some light. I am not healthy by any means. I still do very little beyond the necessities of life, but I am in much less pain. I am making progress, and doing the bare necessities is now manageable. I’m swimming a hard path up current instead of wondering if I will drown.

I don’t know how long it will last. The progress has never truly lasted. Something always sets off another flare, and I find myself back at the bottom of the pit, needing to drag myself out all over again. But for now, while I’m up on higher ground, I need to take time to celebrate the good, just as in those past months I mourned the bad.

I’m celebrating the fact that I can shower regularly without using up every last drop of that day’s energy.

I’m celebrating that this past week I went shopping, carried the groceries inside, and put them away all by myself without even resting in-between.

I’m celebrating that my physical therapist says she can tell that my body is changing. I’m slowly building up my small regimen of physical therapy exercises little by little.

I’m celebrating that for the first time in months I’ve been able to plan ahead beyond the next five minutes by putting healthy meals away into the freezer.

I’m celebrating that my mood has improved, I’m not feeling hopeless, and each day I wake up ready to take on that day’s work.

I’m celebrating the small steps, because in the end they are what accumulate into the big steps.

I’m celebrating that even though I do not know what the future will hold, at least for now, God is giving me a small break from this tiresome journey.

I’m resting my feet because who knows what the future will bring.

19 Comments

  1. Celebrating small victories is very important when you live with a chronic condition. It sounds like you actually have a lot of small victories to celebrate. Good for you. Take them as they come and use them as the fuel you need to keep going during those tough times.

    1. I do too 🙂 I try not to talk about it too much because I don’t want to jinx it lol. I know that is not how things work, but I feel like the more I get my hopes up that this time is different, the more I will be disappointed at the next relapse. So, need to just stay focused on each day as it comes!

  2. Great to hear. Take one day, one moment, at a time. When I began to improve I would have these “non-flare” days… they weren’t great by any means… but like you said, I no longer felt like I was at my lowest. I was hesitant to declare I was getting better, because inevitably, I’d be back at square one. But I want to give you hope in saying that these non flare days are a good sign that your body is on the right track. Stay hopeful, positive, and do not let your thoughts run too far ahead! You will get there. )

    1. Thanks that is encouraging. It is hard to not let my thoughts run ahead. I have had months of no flares before, and it inevitably turned into huge flares again because of injuring myself. Hard to believe it won’t happen again, but I do believe that attitude is really important in being able to get better. So, somehow I have to convince myself that one of these times I can be different. I’m working on believing this!

      1. One can and I’m glad to report that I went from having the most dire Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and totally incapacitating muscle pain for 4/5 years to being able to function well now – 15 years on. I thought I was totally done for at that point.

        1. Thank you for telling me that. It is encouraging to hear. I struggle with hope a great deal. I sometimes push hope away because it feels too good to be true and I don’t want to be disappointed. Something I am aware of and working on.

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