Ok, I can hardly contain my laughter right now. This morning at around 4:00 I woke up and felt like I had been in a horrible bar fight last night. My right cheek bone can hardly be touched because it is so tender. It felt like a knife was being driven through my ankle. My legs had the electric feeling firing through them. My head was pounding and all my muscles felt like they were doing the jitterbug. All day I kept feeling more and more pain the in strangest places - got a muscle spasm in my lower back and it felt like they were doing the tango.
Anyway, so when njgs just said something about a poem I nearly fell off my chair. As I was experiencing all my symptoms at 4 a.m. laying in bed I found myself reciting my FAVORITE childhood poem. It's by Shel Silverstein called "I Cannot Go to School Today!". Everything but the last few lines is a fibromites story. While many of the things are "normal" they are real/can be problematic for us and always seem to occur at the same time. I can't believe it took me this long to make the connection. I've pasted it below hopefully others will enjoy it. It put me in a good mood today at least, despite the pain. I hope you feel better soon Mrs. Mike!
"I cannot go to school today"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox.
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,
It might be the instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke.
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in.
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My toes are cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There's a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...
What? What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is .............. Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"