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Happy Fibro-Versary to me!!

Point in check: I’ve had fibro longer than a year, I am merely celebrating the day that I found out I wasn’t all bat-shit crazy and that there was a name for all the extra shit happening in my body that Lupus didn’t have it’s hounds-of-hell death-bite on.

[Oh, I’ve had fibro about as long as they believe I’ve had Lupus…current approximations are 8-10 years. (would explain the level of deterioration of my kidneys. *shrug*)]


But today?  Today I decided that, no matter the ridONKulous lumbar/spinal issues that, one month later, STILL staunch my plans to take over the world…I was going to purposefully forget the “walking assistor” at home and go out on this oh-so-very beautiful Canadian winter’s day and WALK my fool ass off (I can afford it. I’ve got me an “I’ve-earned-this-ass”.)


Today, I decided to be awesome.

Yes, I decided to be awesome and because this thought was manifested throughout every fibre of my pharmaceutical-cocktail-ridden carcass I was able to make it just so oh-so-very frabjous.

I willed myself out that front door into the bright, sunny cubby of my front porch and day-um that sun felt good on my face.  (Yes, it burns a bit, but do you think this post is going to be spent justifying to you every moment? Hell no. Moving on.)

Shane and I went downtown to walk amongst the remnants of our city’s winter festival, “Winterlude.”  There was a skating rink over by City Hall.  There were people and families and hot sauce and Beavertails (This is an epic pastry treat unequalled anywhere in the world. I shit you not.)…melted ice sculptures and soggy hay (No clue. Really. Traction, maybe?) Old people, infants, adolescents and homeless.  And what did we see?? An art “sculpture” of hockey stick trees, skate and glove trees…and it freakin’ ROCKED.  For no other reason than it defined a part of our country’s favourite pastime.  Me and my toque…all I was missing was my Tim Horton’s coffee.

See, we simply had no particular direction, no timeline…just…to walk.  Left foot, right foot.

We made our way up to Parliament Hill.  I walked up a bazillion steps.  I did the Rocky Balboa thingy at the top…but pretty modified, because if I attempted to actually jump around like he did, I’d likely spill ass-over-teakettle onto my face.  True story.

It was a glorious moment.  And I don’t expect the full depth of this feeling could ever properly be articulated…but walking unassisted, a mere month post-spine snafu…


Oh!!  Speaking of tea (almost missed that segway…)….I stood with a fine group of ladies as they milled about discussing women’s rights.  It was about as much socialization as I’ve had since the holidays.  True story.

‘Course, they were a little slight on the convo, but that’s totally cool with me…it didn’t overstimulate my already over-processed mind.

I love my toque.  I’m a Canuck.  It’s a POOK.  Shove it, Dragon’s Den…Canadians know Canadian winters.  I wear what look like two woolen socks sewn together…pink fleece on the inside.  Warm as heck.  Got the mittens to match.  You can even roll up the “socks” into various manners, like the Princess Leia, or Shrek…

*NOTE: My Thing 1 just asked (upon viewing the above photo) if I was drinking “with Star Wars.”  Meaning, Hans Solo frozen in carbonite.  I have the coolest kids EVER.

Yes, this was one of the other ladies.  Charming doll, she was.  Little on the quiet side.

She was glad.

I was glad.

Glad is where you want to be in life.


Today I was glad to have another day.

Today I was glad to have sun on my face.

Today I was glad I willed myself out of the shadows.

Today I was glad for the Naproxen and Flexeril that allowed me to function.  Okay, physically, more than mentally…Whatever works.

And so we continued to walk…doing touristy stuff around our own Parliament.

Home now, of course, with my darling, devious gingerBrynns watching Lady and the Tramp, just being…together.

It was a great day.  It was a day to wrap up a year of whirlwind medical nightmares and reflect on myself all that I’ve done, where I’ve come from and just how far.

One year.  Tick Tock.


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