Wind-blown fibro flare

It's hard to explain to people what fibromyalgia feels like. It's difficult enough to find words for the day-to-day "chronic" pain, but describing the intensity of a severe flare up is a real challenge... but I'll try.

My hope in writing about this is twofold: to give family and friends of people with fibromyalgia an idea of what the experience of this condition can feel like, and to let other fibro patients know that as crazy as fibro can make you feel, it's not all in your head and you are not alone.

Last week, on Thursday and Saturday, December 29th and 31st, Denver was blasted by high winds with gusts over 100 miles per hour. Wind has always been an issue for me. Whenever I heard on the weather report that a windy day was ahead, I knew I'd better get my comfort supplies together and prepare for a flare up. Some wind storms are worse than others, but this one was particularly brutal, and I didn't see it coming.

I woke up Thursday morning in excruciating pain and filled with anxiety. Apparently, the winds had kicked up during the night, pounding my body and making for very restless sleep. I was already emotional and exhausted when the day started. Although I had a cup of coffee in the morning, I managed to get back to sleep for a couple of hours until the wind intensified. That's when the real torture began.

Fibromyalgia isn't like an arthritic knee that acts up once in awhile. Fibromyalgia, especially when it's flared up, is everywhere! Some areas of the body may feel worse than others, but that's all relative. It still hurts all over, and finding a comfortable position seems impossible.

This particular flare was all about sensory overload. With every gust, I felt like my skin was being sandblasted from the inside. The muscles under my skin were so sensitive that even my clothes hurt. I became hypersensitive to everything in my environment. Not only did I hear sounds, I felt them, vibrating me like a tuning fork. My ears started ringing incessantly, like I had just walked out of a loud concert. Ear plugs were no help because they can't quiet the ringing coming from inside my head. My brain lost the ability to filter out unnecessary sounds, so I heard everything very loudly.

Every gust of wind and every sound brought waves of pain from head to toe. My muscles were tight. My hands and feet were constantly cold and clammy. Unable to control my body temperature, I experienced wild swings from intense hot flashes to freezing cold sweats. I curled up in a darkened area because my eyes were so sensitive to even the dimmest light. I felt disoriented and off balance. Because fibro can affect the muscles that control the eyes including movement and focus, reading was out of the question. My stomach was upset and I had no appetite. My hands and feet ached and tingled and my back and neck spasmed.

I was so overwhelmed with painful sensations that my logical mind struggled to function. At one point, all I could do was curl up in fetal position and beg for it to stop. I couldn't even think of what to do for myself that could make me feel better. Nothing seemed to help. Even the cannabis I had on hand didn't seem to make much of a dent in this flare up, although I can't tell you how consistent I was in my self-medication. Most of the day was lost in a blur of torment.

I was emotionally overwhelmed as well. Anxious and crabby. Dark and depressed. Waves of emotion would come flooding in, pouring over me, threatening to drown me. Crying was out of the question; it hurts too much. I was so distraught, I asked God why I was being tortured, then finally decided that He or She doesn't exist, or at least doesn't care about me. Intense pain can take your thoughts and emotions on a rollercoaster ride like you've never experienced before. It can make you crazy.

And then it stopped. The winds quieted and my symptoms began to ease almost immediately, as if by magic.

I took 1000 mg of L-Tryptophan along with a few puffs of a heavy indica and tried to sleep. I was still tormented all night with wild temperature swings from hot sweats to cold chills, but the hypersensitivity and pain had begun to let up so I could relax a little.

I managed to make it through a busy day on Friday, controlling my symptoms just long enough to get done what was needed. Then back home to collapse and try to sleep. I was still hypersensitive, but not at the torturous level I'd reached the day before.

Saturday brought more winds, but they didn't start until after I was awake, and I was much more prepared for them. It was a painful day, but much more manageable.

Today, I'm still recovering. I'm still exhausted. My muscles and attachments still ache, especially my back, hands and feet. But I'm getting through it.

Every flare is different, from person to person and time to time. Although there may be similarities, my experience of fibro is different from someone else's, and has changed over time. These days, thanks to the miracle of marijuana, most of my fibro flares are mild and manageable compared to this recent one. Rarely do I have a day as miserable as that Thursday was.

I just keep reminding myself that yes, this too shall pass.