Mrs. Ram's Jams

Category: chronic pain

• Mrs. Ram’s Jams New Year’s Resolutions

  Posted at 9:06 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on January 11, 2018

  

  Because my birthday falls on January seventh, my New Year’s resolutions never appear prior to January’s second full week. I’m a firm believer of birthday indulgences. I refuse to let my birthday get in the way of resolutions; therefore, I wait to avoid failure.

  Because intentional failure is stupid.

  But unexpected failure happens all the time for me.

  For example in a moment of lice inspired weakness before Christmas break, I lamented to my principal that I’m an idiot, relinquished all knowledge, and begged her to be my life coach. In the hallway. Loudly. With students and other teachers around.  

  That, my friends, is failing at life.

  As is catching lice at nearly 35. 

  (For my lice debacles, check out these posts: A Little Thing Tale: Merry Licemas and A Mrs. Ram’s Jams Tale: Happy Lice-a-Days)

  And I’m disconcertingly at peace with my spectacular fails.       

  Anyway, here are my resolutions.

  1. 1. Read less. Write more. Instead of inhaling books at an alarming rate, I’m stepping back a notch. I’ll be just fine if I read 60 books instead of 119, allowing me more writing time. I’ve posted weekly since starting the blog, but often I’m scrounging around at the last minute trying to post something before my weekly Saturday self-imposed cutoff (because I’m caught up in a book). Writing is greater than reading in 2018.  
     2. Break the bad habit of spacing twice after a period. WHO KNEW THAT THIS IS NO LONGER A THING, AND HOW COME NO ONE HAS ALERTED THE MASSES??? Or were the masses alerted, and I missed it? Again, another life fail.  
     3. Do yoga everyday (barring contracting bubonic plague, botulism, or whatever more plausible virus is contaminating my middle school). I’ve done yoga everyday since November 13–that’s 60 days in a row! Might as well see if I can keep it up. I can already see the difference, and my back has NEVER felt better. My muscle inflammation is essentially nonexistent. On days that I know I can’t handle 30 minutes, I try to do a gentle 15 minute practice. On top of daily practice, I want to learn about yoga’s history, too.
     4. Brush up on my Russian. I was three classes short of graduating with a minor in Russian from the U of I. The department head, who I loved, left after my sophomore year and was replaced with a scary lady. By junior year, I was one of the few non Russian students. Feeling overwhelmed, I said dosvedanya and left the foreign language building’s basement. Fast forward a decade and I’ve forgotten everything I was taught except how to read it. (Okay that’s not true. The first full sentence from the Russian 101 textbook was лифт никогда не работает, which means “The elevator never works.” Why? Why was this the first thing I learned. Do elevators consistently refuse to work in Russia??? Also the Russian word for water is вода, pronounced voda. It’s. Only. One. Letter. Away. From. Vodka. Can I start calling water “wineter”? Do you think I can pull it off? Or is this a Gretchen Weiners-esque fetch pipe dream?) I dilly-dallied over relearning Russian last summer but was unwilling to fully commit. Rosetta Stone’s new best friend will be Mrs. Ram Jam this year. (Again, life fail. I’d like you to meet my future summer time best friend, Rosetta. I bought her for $179. She’s reteaching me Russian, and she’s not a real person.)
     5. Secret Resolution. Sorry! I’m being that girl.  

  Are these difficult resolutions to keep? Heck no! If I read 119 books, started a blog, mommed hard, taught hard, had a septoplasty, and visited four different doctors regularly in 2017, then 2018’s resolutions should be easy peasy lemon squeezy.

  (P.S. teaching a tiny Little Thing how to say easy peasy lemon squeezy was hilarious. I caught it on video circa three years ago. You’re welcome.)  

   

   

   

   

   
  Posted in books, chronic pain, fibromyalgia, fitness, reading, Uncategorized, writing, yoga | 0 Comments | Tagged books, chronic pain, fibromyalgia, lice, little thing, new year, new year's resolutions, reading, reading goals, writing, yoga

• A Poem: Invisible Illness Idioms

  Posted at 10:57 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on December 8, 2017

  

  Because sometimes you need to vent when you have invisible pain.  Because sometimes haters are going to hate.  And because it remains invisible if you don’t talk about it.

  ---

  I’m a pain in the ass, full of shit, lend me your ear, and put a sock on it
  because of fibromyalgia, IBS, Meniere’s, and Raynaud’s chronic disease fits.

  I’m a pain in the ass,
  a daily debacle that will never pass.
  No matter how much I tweedle and wheedle,
  I smell something fishy and am on pins and needles.
  I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
  and my body betrays me as it twitches and smolders.
  I’m a taste of my own medicine,
  but I can’t take any because it glues my innards together and turns my muscles to gelatin.
  I’m a pain in the ass
  that will never pass.

  And full of shit
  that’s hard to pass,
  leaving me feeling like a twit.
  I’ve got a gut feeling that sends me reeling.
  I can’t have my cake and eat it too
  without a flare up coming out of the blue.
  I don’t have a cast iron stomach.
  Most culinary delights leave my digestive track flummoxed.
  I feel like I’m eighty-six,
  and I’ve had to eighty-six Cajun concoctions in cast iron pots because of my tummy.
  Gone are all the foods that are satisfying and yummy,

  including salt,
  but that’s my inner ear’s fault.
  Go ahead, lend me your ear.
  I’ve got loads to tell you about my diseases that you don’t want to hear.
  Don’t get bent out of shape
  because I am bent out of shape.
  I’ll take your ears and attach them to my own with tape,
  so I can hear what you have to say dear.
  I’d love you to lend me your ear.  
  But I’m just a dizzy dame
  who is going slowly lame.

  I’d bend over backwards
  to be able to bend over forwards.

  And I’ll put a sock on it
  as well as gloves
  to get my hands and feet to stop it,
  my loves,
  from looking like they’re from a cadaver.

  But people still can’t figure out what is the matter.

  They say I’m full of shit and a pain in the ass
  and to stop being so crass.
  They don’t want to lend me their ears 
  because of their own piddling fears.
  They’d rather I’d put a sock on it.  
  It’s been listed first on my “how do I make my diseases easier for you” docket
  for years because you’d rather I’d wear your rose colored glasses.
  But now I’ll wear my rose colored glasses for fashion and call you a fascist.

  Because you think I’m a pain in the ass and full of shit.
  Because you won’t lend me your ear.
  And because I’m tired
  of putting a sock on it.

  Posted in chronic pain, fibromyalgia, meniere's disease, poetry, Uncategorized | 2 Comments | Tagged chronic pain, dizzy, fibromyalgia, ibs, idioms, invisible illness, meniere's disease, poems, poetry, raynauds

• Reading Goal Achieved: 100 Books Read

  Posted at 11:02 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on November 2, 2017

  

  When I set a goal for myself to read 100 books this year, I didn’t know if I would succeed. But ta da! With two months to spare, I reached my goal on Sunday. Can I get a whoop whoop?

  How did I read 100 books before the end of October? I’m a bit mystified myself as to how I achieved this milestone, but the following list helped me achieve my goal (some might sound familiar from this previous post– Thirty Seven More to Go).

  1. For the most part, I don’t watch TV–except for Sunday morning NBC programming. I adore Willie Geist and Chuck Todd.
  2. My phone stays on silent. I have never been a phone talker. I was even slow to come around to the idea of texting during its advent and subsequent rise to ubiquity. And while I do peruse Facebook, Pinterest, and WordPress daily, I don’t spend hours on social media.  
  3. Although it took some coaxing, Little Thing is fairly independent, and I encourage her autonomy.  Yes, I stop and have dance parties, play games, craft, or bake with her. However, I refuse to stimulate her constantly.  
  4. I read when I can. When Little Thing has tumbling on Tuesdays, I read during her 45 minute class. I read while I’m waiting in primary school carpool, walking in circles around my kitchen, and waiting at the doctor’s office.  
  5. Fibromyalgia and Meniere’s disease has kicked my booty this year. Because of both diseases, my activity level has plummeted in comparison to previous years. If I can’t handle keeping myself upright anymore, I’m flat on my back with a book in my hand to dull the pain.
  6. I made a commitment by putting it in writing; therefore, I made it a point to carve out time.

  In hindsight, I probably could have read more if I hadn’t decided to start this blog. But this blog’s been fun and provided me with a place to vent, reflect, and grow.  

  Thank you to my friends who suggested books the past couple of months. I adored the books recommended to me, and because of them, October ended on a sweet note.  

  Now excuse me while I go bask in my goal achievement glory, resonating in imagined rainbows, sparkles, and cheers erupting firework style in the confines of my overactive imagination . . . and celebrate with another book and Thursday night wine.  

  Here’s my full list of 100 books. 

  (Once again, please forgive my formatting issue in May like in this previous post–Books Read: First Half of 2017; I cannot figure out how to fix it.)  

  January

  1. The Glass Magician (Book 2)–Charlie N. Holmberg
  2. Beautiful Ruins–Jess Walter
  3. The Probable Future–Alice Hoffman
  4. Here on Earth–Alice Hoffman
  5. Beautiful People (accidental reread)–Wendy Holden
  6. What She Knew–Gilly Macmillan
  7. The Girls–Emma Cline
  8. Commonwealth--Ann Patchett

  February

  9.  Mr. Mercedes (Bill Hodges Trilogy Book One)–Stephen King
  10.  Atonement–Ian McEwan
  11.  The Red Garden–Alice Hoffman
  12.  Finders Keepers (Bill Hodges Trilogy Book Two)–Stephen King
  13.  The Couple Next Door–Shari Lapena
  14.  A Man Called Ove–Fredrik Backman
  15.  Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me–Mindy Kaling
  16.  The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper–Phaedra Patrick

  March

  17.  End of Watch (Bill Hodges Trilogy Book Three)–Stephen King
  18.  It Ends with Us–Colleen Hoover
  19.  The Vacationers— Emma Straub
  20.  Dark Matter-Blake Crouch
  21.  The Road–Cormac McCarthy
  22.  The Woman in Cabin 10–Ruth Ware
  23.  Why Not Me–Mindy Kaling
  24.  Yes Please–Amy Poehler
  25.  Red Queen–Victoria Aveyard
  26.  Today Will Be Different–Maria Semple
  27.  Pretty Girls–Karin Slaughter

  April

  28.  Heartburn–Nora Ephron
  29.  Glass Sword–Victoria Aveyard
  30.  We Need to Talk about Kevin–Lionel Shriver (accidental reread)
  31.  Big Magic–Elizabeth Gilbert
  32.  Modern Lovers–Emma Straub
  33. King’s Cage–Victoria Aveyard
  34.  The Underground Railroad--Colson Whitehead
  35.  The Sellout–Paul Beatty
  36. On Writing–Stephen King
  37.  Eligible–Curtis Sittenfield

  May

  38  Shotgun Lovesongs–Nickolas Butler

  39. The Color Purple–Alice Walker
  40.  Before the Fall–Noah Howley
  41.  You–Caroline Kepnes
  42. The Magicians–Lev Grossman
  43.  Nine Women, One Dress–Jane L. Rosen
  44.  The Forgetting Time–Sharon Guskin
  45.  Talking as Fast as I Can–Lauren Graham
  46.  Caraval–Stephanie Garber
  47.  The Expats–Chris Pavone
  48. Rich and Pretty–Rumaan Alam
  49.  Saving Grace–Jane Green
  50.  See Jane Run–Joy Fielding
  51.  The Sympathizer–Viet Thanh Nguyen

  June

  52.  Here’s to Us–Elin Hilderbrand
  53. Perfect–Rachel Joyce
  54.  Bittersweet–Miranda Beverly-Whitemore
  55.  Snobs–Julian Fellowes
  56.  The Fifth Petal–Brunonia Barry
  57.  Someday, Someday, Maybe–Lauren Graham
  58.  The Girl You Left Behind–Jojo Moyes
  59. The Lace Reader–Brunonia Barry
  60. The Avenue of Mysteries–John Irving
  61.  Vampires in the Lemon Grove–Karen Russell
  62.  One Plus One–Jojo Moyes
  63.  This Is How It Always Is–Laurie Frankel

  July

  64.  It Was Me All Along–Andie Mitchell
  65. Between the World and Me–Ta-Nehisi Coates
  66.  Annihilation–Jeff Vandermeer
  67.  In the Dark, Dark, Wood–Ruth Ware
  68.  Beartown–Fredrik Backman
  69.  Neverwhere–Neil Gaiman
  70.  The Uncommon Reader–Alan Bennett
  71.  I am Malala–Malala Yousafzai
  72. Bone Gap–Laura Ruby
  73. Crazy Rich Asians–Kevin Kwan
  74. The Shadow of the Wind--Carlos Ruiz Zafron

  August

  75.  Nutshell–Ian McEwan
  76. The Wonder–Emma Donoghue
  77.  The Solitary House–Lynn Shepherd
  78.  American Gods–Neil Gaiman
  79. A Conjuring of Light–V.E. Schwab
  80.  Are You Sleeping–Kathleen Barber
  81. It Happens All the Time–Amy Hatvany
  82. Bossypants–Tina Fey
  83. Pretty Little Liars–Sara Shepard
  84. The Wednesday Wars–Gary D. Schmidt
  85.  Flawless–Sara Shepard

  September

  86. Life After Life–Kate Atkinson
  87.  Perfect–Sara Shepard
  88.  Unbelievable–Sara Shepard
  89.  Rich People Problems–Kevin Kwan
  90. Into the Water–Paula Hawkins
  91. The Muse–Jessie Burton
  92. The Girls in the Garden–Lisa Jewell

  October:

  93. Every Fifteen Minutes–Lisa Scottoline
  94. The Devil in the White City–Erik Larson
  95. The Keeper of Lost Things–Ruth Hogan
  96. Every Last Lie–Mary Kubica
  97. Saints for All Occasions–J. Courtney Sullivan
  98.  The Keepers of the House–Shirley Ann Grau
  99. All Over but the Shoutin’—Rick Bragg
  100. The Lonely Hearts Hotel—Heather O’Neill
  Posted in books, chronic pain, fibromyalgia, reading, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments | Tagged 100 books, books, fibromyalgia, meniere's disease, reading, reading goals, writing

• My New Normal: Meniere’s Disease

  Posted at 6:47 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on October 14, 2017

  

  Even though Chronic Pain Awareness Month is over, this week I officially received a new chronic disease diagnosis:  Meniere’s disease. I’m aware-ing ya’ll again of another chronic disease and of my new normal. Hopefully, this post will prove cathartic in nature.

  The Mayo Clinic defines Meniere’s disease as “a disorder of the inner ear that causes episodes in which you feel as if you’re spinning (vertigo), and you have fluctuating hearing loss with a progressive, ultimately permanent loss of hearing, ringing in the ear (tinnitus), and sometimes a feeling of fullness or pressure in your ear. In most cases, Meniere’s disease affects only one ear.”

  My ENT introduced this disease to me a year and a half ago.

  Before taking Little Thing to Disney World last year during Mardi Gras break, my ears started hurting. I felt pressure, sliding, popping, stabbing, and ringing. My right side was worse, and my hearing sounded muffled. The pain was present upon waking and worsened while riding in a car, becoming quasi unbearable while in the driver’s seat. The doctor treated me with steroids and told me to call her if my symptoms relapsed.

  My symptoms vanished but returned a month later. I went back for a hearing test, discovering I had lost a low level pitch in my right ear. That’s when my ENT brought up Meniere’s. It’s uncommon, but fibromyalgia sufferers can get it. At that point, it wasn’t a diagnosis. I hadn’t experienced any vertigo, so she presented it as atypical Meniere’s disease. Again, she treated me with steroids and suggested a low sodium diet to help manage symptoms.  

  This April, my symptoms flared again but with a twist.  

  On the Friday of spring break (Little Thing was at Granny’s), I hopped on the interstate. About ten minutes into my drive, dizziness set in–not full blown vertigo but imbalance and lightheadedness. I began shaking and sweating. Nauseous and spinning, I exited the interstate and parked at a grocery store for twenty minutes until my world stopped rotating. Getting on the interstate again wasn’t an option, so I drove a little further on once I felt better. It was too soon. I stopped again.  

  I called my husband. Terrified, he left work, picked me up, and drove me to the emergency room. They couldn’t tell me what was wrong.

  In a matter of days, my ears rebelled, and I developed a sinus infection. When I felt safe enough to get back on the road, my dizziness wasn’t nearly as bad, but something felt off. Then, Meniere’s came to my mind.  

  I went back to the ENT. I got better but avoided interstate driving, the apparent previous attack trigger.

  Over the summer, I performed a four hour test that tested my eyes, ears, and balance. Once more, she told me she couldn’t say that it was Meniere’s, but she couldn’t write it off.      

  Through an MRI, she also discovered that I had a deviated septum and inflamed sinus cavities, so I had a septoplasty and sinus surgery to help alleviate symptoms.

  I was feeling glorious ala Macklemore featuring Skylar Grey style up until a few weeks ago when we drove to Illinois for a quick weekend. We were in the car for four days and at the mercy of sodium saturated fast food and roadside restaurants.  

  To give my husband a break from driving on day two, I gave up shotgun and tried to chauffeur as we entered Missouri. Bad idea–the hilly ups and downs combined with the speed and salt intake triggered a mild attack.  

  On the way back to Louisiana, my ears revolted.   

  I found myself in my ENT’s office this week still in pain and lightheaded.

  She informed me we had to get my Meniere’s under control–no more this might be what you have, but a definitive yes.  

  So what’s my new normal?  It’s a low sodium diet and water pills.  It’s no driving on the interstate or for extended periods of time until it gets under control.

  When I’m in a flare like I am now, thirty minutes of city driving pushes it, the ear pain radiates incessantly, and my hearing undulates.  

  My anxiety level has escalated, but I’m dealing with it. An aspect of my independence gets snatched away during a flare.  I am rendered more unreliable to keep prior commitments.  Once easy rides, getting to work, navigating primary school carpool, and driving home are now chores.

  My description of Meniere’s barely breeches basic understanding.  In no way have I described its full aspects.  And like my previous post about pain (Chronic Pain Awareness), I’m not writing to complain; I’m writing to inform.

  And of course to cope.  

  Thanks for reading.

  Works Cited:

  https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/menieres-disease/basics/definition/con-20028251

  Posted in chronic pain, fibromyalgia, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged chronic pain, chronic pain awareness month, dizzy, driving with pain, ear pain, meniere's disease, pain awareness, vertigo, writing

• Chronic Pain Awareness

  Posted at 11:46 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on September 7, 2017

  

  September is Pain Awareness Month, so this invisible pain sufferer is heralding awareness to y’all that chronic pain is not fake news nor alternative fact.

  According to research provided by John Hopkins University economists, chronic pain cost the US as much as $635 billion in 2012; that’s more than diabetes, cancer, and heart disease COMBINED in one year. This statistic dropped my jaw.  

  Chronic pain is real and often gets overshadowed. And in the case of fibromyalgia, from which I suffer, some people in this world choose to believe that it isn’t real, it exists in sufferers’ heads, and/or we make it worse for ourselves.

  Mrs. Ram owns every glorious facet of her portrayed and contained crazy, but she is a rational, educated Homo sapien sapien and has ample cognitive capacity to recognize her pain is real–as well as a medical diagnosis and medical fact to prove it. Choosing to eschew medical fact over personal beliefs about someone else’s pain is delusional. Why demean someone else’s pain?  

  I am not writing this to vehemently complain about my widespread body woes.

  I am writing this to help normalize chronic pain in society.

  I am writing this to help end strangers’, friends’, and even family members’ verbal and silent shaming of sufferers who battle it everyday. (Thankfully, my family is very understanding.)

  I am doing this in an attempt to stop shaming myself.

  Yes, I shame myself for having a chronic pain disease.  

  You would too if you had one like fibromyalgia.

  Some days it hurts to have clothes on. Some days it takes me three hours to recover from a shower. Some days it’s pins and needles, stabbing and spasms, or sweats and chills. Some days my right side doesn’t do what I ask of it, or I’m off-balance and dizzy. Interrupted sleep plays a big role in function, too. Don’t forget the anxiety or the fibro fog. Some days it’s none of the above, one or five of the above, or every damn one.   

  To top it all off, I’m overwhelmingly sensitive to heat, cold, sounds, smells, food, and medicine. Yes, this is part of the disease, too. I can’t take most medicines to help treat my disease because it throws my other troublesome chronic pain culprits (IBS and Raynaud’s) into a two-year-old style induced hissy fit. Frequently, sensitivity blends into blatant intolerance and vengeful malaise ensues.  

  Some days fibromyalgia is debilitating. Some days I’m borderline non-functional. Most days I can dab, whip, and nae nae through the background music of pain, and some days I feel wonderful.  

  This doesn’t begin to eclipse everything that’s attributed to my disease or anyone else’s version of fibromyalgia. Fibro varies from person to person.

  Sometimes I can handle everything on my daily docket, and sometimes I stay home and miss out on scheduled activities. And sometimes, not all the time, people don’t understand why.

  It is not just nausea, sweats, stomach aches, moderate fatigue, or insert the name of any other symptom here. When I end up saying no or backing out, I am either already in an extreme amount of pain or know that going will push me there.

  It is not normal pain, and some people just don’t understand.   

  Are you starting to see why I shame myself?  

  As a sufferer of invisible illness, it feels like most empathy in this world is reserved for accidents, murders, life-threatening illnesses, or the terminal cases.  

  Society’s way of saying, “Hey Chronic Pain Sufferer, you have no risk of dying, so we can only empathize with the most traumatic, shattering aspects of the world’s chaotic crosshairs.”

  Society’s apathy contaminates sufferers own views of their diseases because sufferers empathize with more tragic plights in this world: hurricanes, poverty, famine, and other chronic national and global issues. But that does not make our daily pain less or less real.

  Irma’s threatening Florida, and here Mrs. Ram jams about chronic pain. What an ass (instead of ram?) I am. That’s my point. Chronic pain will always be overshadowed by disasters or accidents more devastating.  

  Empathy is not a finite resource. Understanding works just like love. This world deserves more of both.

  Chronic pain will remain invisible if sufferers don’t raise their voices, and I refuse to remain silent.  

  Works Cited

  American Pain Society. “Chronic pain costs U.S. up to $635 billion, study shows.” ScienceDaily. ScienceDaily, 11 September 2012. <www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/09/120911091100.htm>.

  Posted in chronic pain, fibromyalgia, Uncategorized | 9 Comments | Tagged chronic pain, fibromyalgia, pain awareness month

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