I’ve decided that the word “protocol” in the medical field is synonymous to “outrageously expensive” and “more difficult than running a marathon upon implementation”. I’m going to start using the term as such.
Woah, Eloise! That new hip is totally PROTOCOL!
So, a little over a week ago I started a new protocol for fibromyalgia. For those of you unfamiliar with this blog, I have ridiculously poor health for an active and, ahem, YOUNG person. I am on a mission to improve it.
This new plan involves a super-strict elimination diet, buckets of supplements, new meds and physical therapy. Oh, and a few lifestyle changes. As in…quit trying to work ridiculous hours while caring for a maniacal two-year-old, writing a novel, building a house and fighting debilitating health issues, YOU MORON.
So I cut the dairy, beef, wheat, oats, rye, barley, sugars, majority of fruits, artificial sweeteners and alcohol. I reduced my chicken and egg intake. They let me keep the caffeine for now (you lucky bastards). Someone must have known that they’d be held accountable for a homicide if they took that away immediately. WE HAVE GUNS IN OUR HOUSE, PEOPLE.
I take so many supplements in the morning, I think half of my daily caloric intake is in pill form. Please note, pills are not nearly as delicious as a doughnut. Plus, I’m taking the new meds and doing my exercises and basically being a Very Good Girl. Even with ice cream, pizza and wine in the house. Ice cream! Pizza! Wine!
Where the hell is my trophy?!
You guys, Tuesday was my trophy. Although I wasn’t farting sparkles and dancing in glee – I felt better. I didn’t use any anti-inflammatories, pain killers or muscle relaxants. I didn’t even realize it until the next day, but then the awesomeness hit me.
So THAT’S what it’s like to be normal!
But then…I went to physical therapy, aka Camp Awkward & Painful, where they tortured me and promised future pain. Leaving, I could tell my neck and shoulders were about to knot up. My shoulder was creeping up above my right ear and completely reducing the need for me to wear a Halloween outfit because I was shape shifting into a super awesome zombie. Hey y’all, FREE COSTUME!
I immediately had to eat a banana (GASP! The sugars!), and take ibuprofen and muscle relaxants.
But Tuesday – Tuesday was progress. And although it didn’t have quite the same comforting effect as a diet Coke, it’s something. I’ll hang on to that. In the meantime, can someone PLEASE eat a bag of candy corn for me while I eat this bowl of spinach?