tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29407894700086690482024-02-19T05:15:25.299-06:00Vagina HaikuA Pelvic Pain Memoir. My journey through pelvic pain told in essays, six-word memoir, and haiku.Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-16081339558848243132016-01-20T21:27:00.001-06:002016-01-20T21:27:29.797-06:00A PAIN TO EXPLAIN REVISITED<br />
<br />
I am reposting this original post from when I was first diagnosed in 2007. It tells the story of my early days of Pelvic Floor Dysfunction. I'm happy to say that I am doing much better. For those seeking help, I hope you will take time to visit some of my early entries. This post is featured in the book "PELVIC PAIN EXPLAINED" by physical therapists Stephanie A. Prendergast and Elizabeth H. Rummer who diagnosed me and guided me on the road to healing.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQgN5Io4GP0O361E4V518iKI5JwiRIsOtp1LGhue-kbXJSUOfKABnVcmiDUupiPSaKoCwLoWvjhNg9gkIIH9scpqCVTxjfXvueFSh0vnwbkDsZ6nJakHClDqXSXQ-nVs1uypbJQIuy9LY/s1600/IMG_0413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQgN5Io4GP0O361E4V518iKI5JwiRIsOtp1LGhue-kbXJSUOfKABnVcmiDUupiPSaKoCwLoWvjhNg9gkIIH9scpqCVTxjfXvueFSh0vnwbkDsZ6nJakHClDqXSXQ-nVs1uypbJQIuy9LY/s320/IMG_0413.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In December, 2006 my life came to a butt numbing, crotch burning halt. My husband and I were on a flight to California. Halfway through the flight, I started to go numb in the “down there” region. I squirmed in my seat in fear, praying that we were close to landing. I leaned over and whispered to him that I was losing feeling in my crotch and thighs. Being an emergency medicine doctor, he went straight into E.R. mode. He thought I might be having a spinal cord emergency and that as soon as we landed; we may need to get to a hospital for a stat MRI scan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Although I made it through that weekend without an E.R. visit, a few weeks later I had another episode, which in the famous words of my husband, “bought me a ticket to the E.R.” At the hospital, I learned I had injured some delicate muscles I didn’t even know I had, and apparently one of my nerves was a little ticked off too. The more formal diagnoses: pelvic floor dysfunction (PFD) with pudendal neuralgia (PN). Ah, such a clinical name for “pain in the ass.” I later learned that pudendal is the Latin word for “shame.” “Great,” I thought, “I have a shameful, painful condition. How do I explain that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It didn’t take long for family and friends to hear that I had an injury and was in bed on pain medication. Lots of pain medication. I called my dog training students and canceled sessions, made arrangements to have the house cleaned and the farm chores done. Like it or not, I was down for the count and closed for business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When family and friends suddenly see an active, healthy woman flat in bed and unable to sit, they ask questions. “What did you do exactly?” “Can it be fixed?” “Why can’t you sit?” What hurts?” “How could this happen to you? You’re so healthy!” The questions were endless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How you choose to respond to such questions is a very personal decision. I found with some family members, there was the “too much information” factor. For instance, for my older brother, just hearing “back pain” was plenty. Then there are the old soul friends with whom I was able to share many details. With them I’ve been able to talk about the dark, scary sleepless nights. I’ve whined about the lack of sex in my marriage. I’ve also shared with them the private details of PT, and the more humorous spin I tend to put on this whole deal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When thinking about whom you tell and what you tell them, it is important to think about the motivation of the person asking. Is this a close friend with genuine concern? Is this person a snoopy neighbor or colleague? Is this person really a friend? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’ve given all sorts of responses and some have been more tactful than others. I remember one male acquaintance kept asking for more details. Finally, I said to him, “If I tell you any more details, I’m certain you’ll blush!” He never asked me another question again. For a while I was telling people that I have a back injury with some muscle and nerve trauma. But, that explanation was met with numerous recommendations about back cures, which became tiresome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now, I am more relaxed about the whole thing. If someone asks me, I give a brief and vague response. This usually happens when I am in a public place and some chivalrous man will offer me his seat. Really, they still do that! I politely reject the offer, and if they persist, I say, “Thanks, I’m more comfortable standing, I have an injury”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My PT gave me some incredible advice. I asked her how to respond to inquiries regarding my sudden need to stand up all the time and all the other life-style changes that accompany the spectrum of PFD. She said that I might ask, <i><b>“What is it that you’d like to know?” </b></i> I love that response. It allows for a gentle pause, and time for the other person to respectfully reframe their question, or change the subject. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don’t think there are any easy ways to communicate what PFD truly is to others in our everyday lives. Even our doctors and PT’s have trouble at times. What I think is most important, is that as we work towards healing, we do our best to surround ourselves with a caring support system. I have shed many tears in my horse’s fur on a quiet night in the barn. And ya know, he never asked “Why?”</span></div>
Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-78800009897097687542015-06-06T19:00:00.000-05:002015-06-06T19:00:00.595-05:00 Thanks for Stopping By<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaO42yHA0KwHDEUkLUDczLiHkv2FJlhCYYbbRxe3YlynLNDA3f1xjE_qPS2TsxBN6KUlCiDCfmr89VsgWNovIzp-lMAU4qK_9wgfDO5tClBxcBULh5Y6AWrlw5yeDErCvWaW0Hzo2SAaqF/s1600/IMG_1272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaO42yHA0KwHDEUkLUDczLiHkv2FJlhCYYbbRxe3YlynLNDA3f1xjE_qPS2TsxBN6KUlCiDCfmr89VsgWNovIzp-lMAU4qK_9wgfDO5tClBxcBULh5Y6AWrlw5yeDErCvWaW0Hzo2SAaqF/s320/IMG_1272.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
It's been a few years since I have written about my chronic pelvic pain. Life has been very good and my pain is well managed these days. If you are visiting to get some information and read about my experience when my pain was at it's worst, please look at the archives and visit my earlier posts. You'll find many stories about my journey as well as resources. In the near future, I may re-post some of the "best of" that might be of interest and help. <br />
<br />
I wish you healing, recovered health, and peace.<br />
<br />
CoraCora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-47206003861191088082012-02-16T00:29:00.000-06:002012-02-16T00:29:16.227-06:00Post-Partum Training for you and your Vagina<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I saw this post on the Facebook page of my physical therapist. It was first released on Slate Magazine. The article is very general, but the idea of getting your pelvic floor into shape pre-pregnancy and post-pregnancy make so much sense. Many athletic trainers attempt to train women to strengthen the pelvic floor through kegels, which can create a very unhappy and painful vagina. So, my bias would be to find a PT who works exclusively with woman and pelvic health. Keep that pelvis, happy! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">http://www.slate.com/articles/life/family/2012/02/postnatal_care_in_france_vagina_exercises_and_video_g</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-8100623983227081552012-02-10T02:34:00.002-06:002012-02-10T03:02:09.303-06:00Forced Sabbatical<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora here,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">back after several months of being very... much... away. The last post was in May of 2011 and that seems like lifetimes ago. I was going along with life- living each day in what I thought was the "moment", as those of us with chronic pain learn to do so well. Doing the things that keep me balanced- tai chi, walks in nature, eating healthy, nurturing myself and family and taking care of the things you have to take care of with pain as your companion. Living a rearranged but full life, keeping it simple but also full of challenge.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In Aug of 2011, life changed again for us, in one of those proverbial "instants" we hear about. I am including a link to a post about what happened. I am going to tell you that for now, there is a very happy ending. The ending says that right now, Keith is cancer free as in NED. No. Evidence of. Disease.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here is the beginning of the story and why I have been away from blogging at the haiku. I'm happy to be back and I think there are things I want to write about since cancer barged into our life with pain. Dare I say it was a very daring move on cancer's part, but you know that truth: Cancer doesn't care. Cancer doesn't discriminate. Cancer doesn't pencil you in. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I originally started a blog about the cancer, but I am going to continue that writing in my new blog called Universe Willing. So, I'll be writing between Universe Willing and Vagina Haiku. In the meantime, here is Chapter 1 of that crazy cancer episode that stole six months of our life, and a slice of our sanity. It offered up more lessons learned. I'm a little tired of being in this kind of real life boot camp of a classroom, but as they often say "It is what it Is". Introducing my first post- Cora and the Cancer that Came to visit Keith. I'll be cross posting between my two blogs. It's good to be back and I hope and pray that there are no big interruptions on the horizon. Universe Willing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">http://cancerhaiku.blogspot.com/2011/12/in-instant.html</span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-91877629653855313452011-05-22T11:43:00.000-05:002011-05-22T11:43:15.998-05:00Ted Talk on Chronic Pain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQHp2AKdONX29KLVBVgLl7vq6hkyu91TAMkvBL1vTILulY8ufjfjhVMNM41B50fM0bsfyHq9fPOTpFZqE08LpBaOPMDTryXK5-3NjdV_scpXwqlwBPX5rdHdGxCa0O_mN5tvmPc_qtBcf/s1600/two+tulips+spring+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQHp2AKdONX29KLVBVgLl7vq6hkyu91TAMkvBL1vTILulY8ufjfjhVMNM41B50fM0bsfyHq9fPOTpFZqE08LpBaOPMDTryXK5-3NjdV_scpXwqlwBPX5rdHdGxCa0O_mN5tvmPc_qtBcf/s320/two+tulips+spring+11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A Wonderful 8 minute talk on chronic pain as a disease in itself. Please share with those whom you wish to educate on the disease of chronic pain. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/elliot_krane_the_mystery_of_chronic_pain.html">http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/elliot_krane_the_mystery_of_chronic_pain.html</a></span></span></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-19936474729244650572011-04-23T18:30:00.000-05:002011-04-23T18:30:24.977-05:00Lady Creaky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPc_rp6OHnGIBCEX4seTWu667Tquvz9eW54qBwlqqEGZD91sFZMfhr68gry8wxJ2cnBvE-A5kTJwpdEaTq6GTpYa7hAANuFtQvPqq5LHpXiQWHr4toCQafpALV9cTmHAfjw4_w2EvO7PGk/s1600/lady+dios.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPc_rp6OHnGIBCEX4seTWu667Tquvz9eW54qBwlqqEGZD91sFZMfhr68gry8wxJ2cnBvE-A5kTJwpdEaTq6GTpYa7hAANuFtQvPqq5LHpXiQWHr4toCQafpALV9cTmHAfjw4_w2EvO7PGk/s320/lady+dios.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
There is a song in my head called Lady Creaky. I changed the words and sing it to the tune of Lady Madonna. When I wake up each morning, singing Lady Creaky, my bones feel relentlessly stiff, but somehow the humorous lyrics allow me to shuffle off to the bathroom and get the hot soothing water going to fill up the tub. As I soak, Lady Creaky leaves for a time, a nag in the shadow of my day. The warm nurturing water un-creaks me, lubricates me.<br />
<br />
This is the time of the day that I feel temporarily old. This is a fragile hour. I coach myself out of my dusty state of mind, and pursue the ritual of the day. I avoid the urge to connect with information. I engage in the ritual of feeding my dog Cowboy, who patiently waits by his food dish. His patience inspires me. He is just shy of seven years old, and he shows signs of living with his own creakiness. We're in it together.<br />
<br />
I surround myself in tokens of inspiration. My home looks like a gallery of co-exist propaganda. It happened insidiously; a few Buddhist prayer flags here and there, Quan Yin figures, medicine Buddhas, and chimes and bells everywhere. We just added another Mezuzah to the doorway. My collection of Dios Los Muertos figures grows. My fireplace mantel has turned into a shrine, that contains gems of inspiration and memories. Mars and Tapper, two old Border Collies rest in jars at the center. Close friends and family have built that shrine with me, and although crowded, I find little spots for more tokens of strength. It's a little out of control these days, as the bells and Buddhas are also outdoors now. I laugh as my devout atheism is surrounded by icons. 'Just in case." Dawn tells me it's an "Aquarian thing", the urge to hang shit around the house.<br />
<br />
I know Lady Creaky will be back for another visit. I don't believe in the "war vocabulary" when it comes to chronic pain, or any other disease, or life. It's more my nature these days to hang out with Lady Creaky part of the day and then I ask her to back off a bit. Her presence might explain other choices these days. Technology fasts. Long meditations, tai chi and hikes. Very girlie clothes- embroidered t-shirts, and pink Dansko clogs. Which reminds me, have you seen the lavender Chuck Purcell sneakers this spring? To die for.<br />
<br />
http://www.converse.com/?CSID=397#/products/shoes/jackpurcell/121574<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Peace, healing, humor,</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Cora</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Feed the fish. Feed the fish. Please.</b></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-71581986248693200542011-04-15T03:35:00.000-05:002011-04-15T03:35:48.965-05:00LONG NIGHTIt is 03:30 and for some reason, I am still awake. I'm not in pain, just awake. I am <br />
reminded of a fortune from a cookie that I saved for years. My husband found it in a cookie during the years he was a resident in medicine, often sleep deprived. I am also listening to the BBC, and they are discussing nursing in the NHS. I am happy to hear such strong advocacy for nurses. Usually, with the soft voices of the BBC, I can fall asleep to the late night BBC broadcast. With such proper accents, bad news sounds less bad.<br />
<br />
Well, here is the fortune:<br />
<br />
Long is the night, to those who lie awake.<br />
<br />
Sov Gott,<br />
Sleep Well,<br />
Guten Nacht,<br />
Catch some ZZZzzzzzz<br />
<br />
I'll be singing "Here comes the Sun," shortly<br />
<br />
Peace, Healing, Humor<br />
<br />
Cora<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Feed the little fishies please</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>kind thanks.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>❁❁</b></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-88036229990510697002011-04-03T01:43:00.000-05:002011-04-03T01:43:05.834-05:00Fire<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I read this poem today on the Writer's Almanac</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Fire</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>by Wyatt Townley</b><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">It's only the body<br />
It's only a hip joint<br />
It's just a bulging disc<br />
It's only weather<br />
It's only your heart<br />
It's a shoulder who needs it<br />
This happens all the time<br />
It's very common<br />
It's unusual<br />
For people your age<br />
For people your age<br />
You're in great shape<br />
Remarkable shape<br />
It's nothing you did<br />
The main thing is<br />
It's temporary<br />
It's only a doll<br />
In a house that's burning</span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-55988449673372803712011-03-22T03:30:00.000-05:002011-03-22T03:30:43.184-05:00" The Pain Passes, the Beauty Remains"<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunL6wB5K3h5hk7pUA81M6NFFFGzjlh69D41TJ2e2Id_5RyexreE9oiXeDjmMwREOBYskxHZZfK_bQz-XtRhvfZID5H1reEBBeExia6XBA3Xxt4NPIV9y6jlWd-i2N_-SjYkDTcIWvCm10/s1600/crocus_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunL6wB5K3h5hk7pUA81M6NFFFGzjlh69D41TJ2e2Id_5RyexreE9oiXeDjmMwREOBYskxHZZfK_bQz-XtRhvfZID5H1reEBBeExia6XBA3Xxt4NPIV9y6jlWd-i2N_-SjYkDTcIWvCm10/s320/crocus_.jpg" width="240" /></a>When I woke up this morning, I felt the heaviness of the news around the world. It seems a time of unusual anxiety, wars going viral, environmental catastrophes creating suffering of immense proportions. I also feel the weight of my pain. Pain that is on such a micro, individual level. Ya, it's personal. I own it. It affects other around me, no doubt, but I own it. I feel it. We're friends. Today, being the first day of spring, I pushed a little harder, like the brand new violet crocus that exploded through melting snow and heavy mulch. I pulled the shades wide open, got the coffee going, and turned on my computer. My opening page is a site called Happy News. That is what I need to see first thing when I turn on my computer. Will and Kate, the Happy News site says, they are asking wedding guests, all 1,900 of them to donate money to 26 charities they have selected. Well, that is good news. I need that filter from the overwhelming disaster kind of news.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I check in with my companion, "pain" each day, just to see where we're at. I make my assessment, take my medication, do a round of tai chi to balance my energy and get the chi flowing. Sometimes it is so intense, that I cry. The flow of energy connects me to my pain, to the pain of the universe, and to the beauty in my little world, and to the beauty that still reminds me that this planet gives us lots of second chances. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><br />
At the state park where I walk I find a new memorial bench. The benches are parked like gravestones all along the trails. You can tell the old ones from the new. The new benches have fresh, unweathered wood with shiny brass plaques. The older ones are gray and musty, sometimes splintered with missing bolts. Today, I am compelled to read the new ones. I know someone died recently, and the honor of memorializing them with a bench in their favorite surroundings must be quite healing for those still here. The new brass plate has a quote by Renoir. <i>"The Pain Passes but the Beauty Remains."<b> </b></i><b> </b>I needed that quote to find me today. I remember a bench from a few years back- the man who died was young and a long distance runner. His shoes were left on the bench and people were invited to put on his shoes and take them for a run. I wonder if the shoes recognized that an old friend was taking them for a spin, or perhaps a curious stranger wanted to get to know this man through the countless miles he spent in such experienced shoes. There was a box full of letters from friends, close family members, a very poignant one from a teen-aged daughter, and a guy who took the shoes for a run. It was there for all to read and to know this spirited person who likely ran mile after mile on the trails of the kettle morraine state forest. After reading a few notes and contemplating the beat up shoes, I discovered this man was a generous soul, who managed to share his love of nature through a pair of ragged shoes and stories from loved ones left behind, and those just passing through.<br />
<br />
I think that a lot these days. Pain is with me, but together we are passing through. We're not missing the beauty. Sometimes pain and beauty do just fine together.<br />
<br />
Peace, Healing, Humor.<br />
Cora<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>☀ spring has sprung, feed the baby fish please</b></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-3649459722566240592011-03-12T23:45:00.000-06:002011-03-12T23:45:57.676-06:00Fifteen MinutesMy follow-up pain management visit is a week away but I am already thinking about my fifteen minutes. I know that the fifteen minutes includes getting processed by the clinic nurse. Forms will be updated. Pain scales will be checked. My blood pressure will be assessed. We'll have a superficial chat. I will wait. I will wonder what kind of day my doctor is having. Is she running on time? Did she get held up at the rehab hospital? Is another patient eating into my privileged time? I'll hope that she is having a good day. I think of Lucy and Ethel in the chocolate factory. They are stuffing chocolates into their mouths at a frantic pace as the conveyor belt speeds up. <br />
<br />
My doctor will walk in with a stack of charts. She'll greet me politely and get down to business. In less than five minutes I will report the facts. I'll summarize my quality of life in a few sentences. I'll tell her how long I can sit. I'll report on my sleep and bowel habits. Happily, I'll tell her that I am walking over an hour a day. I'll try to slip in a personal detail. Tell her that I knitted my first pair of socks. She'll tell me that all looks good. Remind me of the clinic policy and suggest a three month follow-up visit.<br />
<br />
She'll smile and shake my hand. The nurse will be in to discharge me.<br />
<br />
I will wait. <br />
<br />
Until my next fifteen minutes.<br />
<br />
<br />
Peace, Healing, Humor.<br />
<br />
Cora<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>The fish are hungry. </b></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-6012625461841392662011-03-06T00:07:00.000-06:002011-03-06T00:07:07.010-06:00AmbivalenceNo picture today. Just an apology. Over the past few months I've ditched my blog, pulled the haiku into hiding. Every now and then I feel a need to go under the radar, into true anti-tech, Luddite territory. I do that and end up hiding my blog. But there is certainly more to it. I do crave privacy. I crave time for my own creativity. And life sometimes is low on spoons. The more to it, I believe, is a desire now and then, or a wish perhaps, that if I pull the blog, maybe my disease will disappear along with it. I mean, what's wrong with a little fantastical thinking now and then, you know? Dorothy did it. She just clicked those ruby slippers three times, announced "There's no place like home," and somehow she landed back in Kansas, safe at home, with Toto in her bicycle basket. So, I allow myself a little fantasy as well, but when reality bites again, I miss the writing, I miss the community and education that evolves through blogging. At times too, I wonder if I am "overexposing" a bit too much. The more I know about chronic pain, the invisible variety, the kind where you hear "you look so beautiful, how could you not be well." statements that are so kind and well intended, yet somehow you feel "less than", when you hear it.<br />
So, I am back from Oz, and me and the Tin Man had a dandy time. But, now it's time to write about my life that has something to do with pelvic pain, and a lot to do with living.<br />
<br />
Welcome Back,<br />
CoraCora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-48744536100397080052011-01-07T01:19:00.001-06:002011-01-07T02:53:38.273-06:00Partly Cloudy<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My chronic pelvic pain is holding in a partly cloudy weather pattern. For the past year, my pain has been well managed on a very low dose of sustained release morphine. I also take another medication, Cymbalta to help with the local and centralized nerve pain. However, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">new symptoms have been emerging in the guise of menopausal symptoms, maybe fibromyalgia, or "other".</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQquEEBe-olKZiGLCJ90gBjfrdhLJEFgDt1p9swFddGdESAy0e_jI0DLdnTdn0p1edyIa2XzmM4z5aLG54sQxxPmue61pNtblzKvik7N598R25RMhcEbApeYX8fyNHVWb4AfJADq25SRTW/s1600/IMG_1710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQquEEBe-olKZiGLCJ90gBjfrdhLJEFgDt1p9swFddGdESAy0e_jI0DLdnTdn0p1edyIa2XzmM4z5aLG54sQxxPmue61pNtblzKvik7N598R25RMhcEbApeYX8fyNHVWb4AfJADq25SRTW/s400/IMG_1710.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>prairie burn : in a week beautiful grasses and flowers and birds return</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have yet to find a pain management doctor to work with. The ones we have consulted, immediately state that they are procedural pain management specialists. They like to work with the part of the spine that attaches the head to the neck and the lumbar spine, or lower back. When it comes to the part that turns into the tailbone or pelvis, they get insecure, and turf us over to the gynecologists. Most pain doctors like to do clinical procedures like nerve blocks. Makes sense to them, right? Just draw up some medication, inject it, tell the patient it might work, and then bill the insurance company. No need to have a long, detailed conversation with your patient regarding the nature of the pain and what meds have been helping, not helping, or creating side effects. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And, then they don't have to deal with the cumbersome paperwork imposed by the DEA regulations and weed out potential drug seekers from the actual pain population. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We are a labor intensive bunch and low reimbursement units. Hate to break it to you, but we are called "units" when it comes to billing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">However, it leaves the chronic pain patient without a captain of the ship, and often we get lost in a murky sea of symptoms. Symptoms that often are so familiar to us, but they can still cause us to lose our bearings. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Over the past several months, I have been having a really tough time during the night especially. Most of my friends and family have heard me complain of terrible insomnia, hormonal night sweats, fatigue and awakening feeling like I have the flu and totally unrestored sleep. I talked to several doctors and recently saw a neurologist. She was very suspicious that I was developing fibromyalgia. She wanted to start me on Lyrica, but I declined and wanted to do a little more investigation. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Next, I saw a nurse practitioner/naturopath and she felt my symptoms were not classic fibromyalgia symptoms, but she knew they had a varied spectrum. She wanted me to test my hormones and also do a thorough evaluation for many tick borne diseases. I am still waiting for those results.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the meantime, I decided to do some of my own personal detective work as I was really getting frustrated and feeling low and defeated. I started to document my symptoms and record when they were happening and describe them in full detail. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A typical record would read like this:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">04:00 can't sleep. legs ache. sweating. flu-like feeling. so achey, all over. my whole body is weak. sweaty. muscles twitching. jaw hurts. my bones in my whole body hurt</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">08:00 feels like I didn't sleep at all. drag myself out of bed. take my morning dose of morphine. Tai chi wakes me up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">3:00 tired, hardly did anything today. bones starting to ache. want to take a nap. take a vicodin 7.5 mg. hour later feel better.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I started to notice this pattern of weakness and pain at certain times of the day. It also coincided with when the morphine might be wearing off, or reaching it's nadir.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the meantime, my husband finally found a pain doctor who actually works with pain patients like me. She told him that she'd be happy to work with me and was concerned about my quality of life. Ahhhh... I love it when they use those quality of life sentences. I'd like to have a quality life. She told him that even though the morphine is dosed twice a day, that it runs out faster and she often has to prescribe it 3x a day in divided doses. That is what I figured out on my own, and it has already been helping. I am looking forward to this visit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I wanted to share this because it is likely a very common problem and it can happen for many reasons. When we get comfortable with our disease and our doctors get comfortable with us, sometimes we stop taking the fresh look with "new eyes". It is so important that when we see our doctors that we are very specific with telling them how our pain is now, compared to how it was at the last visit. Get detailed with describing the<i> quality</i> of your pain so you can help your doctor help you. All my doctors, including me and my husband were going down the fibro track until I really stopped and dissected the information and analyzed it by taking a step back and looking at the data. We have to be our own scientists sometime. The other thing that happens is that when you have been on a med for a long time, the doctor may get complacent about asking you how it is working. With any neurologic drug, especially a narcotic, it is paramount that you let your doctor know if you think you are responding differently to a med than you did in the past. Or, if you have new symptoms, help your doc out a bit and actually say, "could this new symptom be related to my meds? Let's talk about each of them". Again, these are examples of advocating for your self, and actually <i>helping your doctor help you.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Finally, as I am now bringing in a 4th doctor into my team, I need to make sure that all of her notes go to my other doctors so they stay up on my care. She'll need to send copies to the gynecologist, my pmd, and the neurologist. And I expect them to know the latest about me when I go for a follow-up appointment. Finally, I will also share some current literature with them so they can learn a little more about pudendal neuralgia and pevlic floor dysfunction. That team approach means that sometimes I coach them. Even when you are at your weakest, try to take charge and be your own best advocate. Try not to get burned in the process.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm hoping partly cloudy, becomes clear blue sky here quite soon.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">☀<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> <b>my lonely fish are so hungry and they want to dance so please stop a while, feed them and play</b></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-55940475226665942892010-12-22T03:27:00.000-06:002010-12-22T03:27:00.008-06:00Bon's six words made it into Smith Magazine !!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Congratulations Dear Bonnie: </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> SIX WORDS WE DIDN'T SEE COMING! author Bonnie.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Thanks Smith Magazine!</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Contest: The One-Word Title of Your MemoirAnd the Winning Title of the One-Word Memoir Contest Is…<br />
“Chained by hate, liberated by love”—The Best Six-Word Memoirs of the Week<br />
<br />
Friday, November 19th, 2010<br />
By Larry Smith<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This week, the nation went Harry Potter crazy (as usual) on the big screen, and Sarah Palin welcomed Americans to her Alaska on the little one. The universe may appear to be contracting, but our Six-Word Memoir world keeps expanding. Here are six six-worders we love from the week ending November 12. Click on each author’s name to check out more memoirs.<br />
<br />
Most Miraculous: “After eight miscarriages, mom had me.’”—Angel Zapata<br />
<br />
Most Nostalgic: “Miss ice cream shop soda fountains.” —Skyrocket Jones<br />
<br />
Most Tragically Meta: “Photoshop makes my faults go away.” —Forever Rain,<br />
from SMITHTeens<br />
<br />
Most inspirational: “Training wheels still on at sixty.”—Shiff<br />
<br />
Most Poignant: “Chained by hate, liberated by love.” —AntiConformity 16<br />
(profile image, above), from our new six-word project, Six Words on Pain & Hope, with the nonprofit, To Write Love on Her Arms<br />
<br />
Six Words We Didn’t See Coming:<br />
<br />
“Pushing, pulling. It hurts. Be still.” —Six Words from the Vagina Haiku blog, which describes itself as “A Pelvic Pain Memoir. My journey through pelvic pain told in essays, six-word memoir, and haiku.”<br />
<br />
</b></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-44313174402489992522010-12-16T17:23:00.000-06:002010-12-16T17:23:35.966-06:00A Prayer for Doctors: Norman Cousins<div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2x7jzjhj4BSz9CY36WZ5T7uMusuEaQilVXgD38fZ3seA3Cnr-TYSufDyanSwBECWZBVoGiaBAQwwevfHBBbFqq69DAHpHTbr6cVFPiIk3btQdm0gCs0ERWXcVJ6dcor47RHfhvagNRMX8/s1600/IMG_1360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2x7jzjhj4BSz9CY36WZ5T7uMusuEaQilVXgD38fZ3seA3Cnr-TYSufDyanSwBECWZBVoGiaBAQwwevfHBBbFqq69DAHpHTbr6cVFPiIk3btQdm0gCs0ERWXcVJ6dcor47RHfhvagNRMX8/s320/IMG_1360.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><div><br />
</div><div>I pray that you will never allow your knowledge to get in the way of your relationship with your patients. I pray that all the technological marvels at your command will not prevent you from practicing medicine out of a little black bag.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I pray that when you go into a patient’s room you will recognize that the main distance is not from the door to the bed but from the patient’s eyes to your own-and that the shortest distance between those two points is a horizontal straight line that works best when the physician bends low to the patient’s loneliness and fear and pain and the overwhelming sense of mortality that comes flooding up out of of the unknown, and when the physician’s hand on the patient’s shoulder or arm is a shelter against the darkness.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I pray that even as you attach the highest value to your science, you will never forget that it works best when combined with your art, and indeed, that your art is what is most enduring in your profession. For, ultimately, it is the physician’s respect for the human soul that determines the worth of his science. </div></div><div><br />
</div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-34143601322802149392010-12-14T06:41:00.000-06:002010-12-14T06:41:17.172-06:00Long NightIt is still dark out. Single digit weather in early December. I hear a few cars slowly moving across the snow packed street. But, all is still and dark and quiet. Cowboy yelps now and then in his sleep as his respirations increase during dream time. His feet paddle like he is chasing a little critter in his sleep. Most of the critters are in deep hibernation right now.<br />
<br />
Why am I posting right now? I had a totally, sleepless night. I did not have any caffeine before I went to bed, and I took my usual sleep meds. My brain just decided to stay awake. So, tonight I didn't fight it. I just lay awake during this long night.<br />
<br />
I skimmed through Jacob Teitlebaum's book "From Fatigued to Fantastic!" Love that exclamation point at the end. So confident.<br />
<br />
I took a questionnaire test to see if I fell into the chronic fatigue category or the fibromyalgia category. Came out fibromyalgia.<br />
<br />
I got up and had one small delicious piece of Dove Peppermint Bark that my friend Cindy got me hooked on.<br />
<br />
I ordered some new vitamin supplements. All packed into one powerful formula. Maybe I'll be more compliant just taking the big scoop.<br />
<br />
I have to get up now and start my day. Feed Cowboy. Wake up my body that did not sleep.<br />
<br />
It's been over a year since I truly stayed up all night. Not one minute of dozing.<br />
<br />
It's very still out here in the country.<br />
<br />
My legs ache a bit but I'll do some tai chi, take a warm bath, and this morning will be a strong cup of coffee day.<br />
<br />
I hope you have been resting peacefully. Today I choose to embrace the beauty of the day and remain a little awake.<br />
<br />
Peace, Healing, Humor,<br />
CoraCora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-10006967719192539182010-12-11T02:09:00.000-06:002010-12-11T02:09:53.304-06:00Thank-you Woollies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNk9tJlri7L1KKh4D7gdDnMZFT6w1dN-JIEWHX2TcCBc-a8iY3sbWJI99RUE4j7UPDNpUaZw6L4jvz4858xJM-rNTeueiWGYVSz97P8FMrm0_RPAfOe03WxZ-8ddnqAp3_Pw1O0cZJxQ5h/s1600/IMG_0360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNk9tJlri7L1KKh4D7gdDnMZFT6w1dN-JIEWHX2TcCBc-a8iY3sbWJI99RUE4j7UPDNpUaZw6L4jvz4858xJM-rNTeueiWGYVSz97P8FMrm0_RPAfOe03WxZ-8ddnqAp3_Pw1O0cZJxQ5h/s320/IMG_0360.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Last post I mentioned I wanted to get back to my journal. I picked up my favorite leather journal that I have ignored for quite a while. It has beautiful rich brown grainy leather, with a thin leather tie to close my secrets. I love looking back to see what I've written over the past months. I found a little note of gratitude that I'd like to share. It's modeled after a blog called Thx Thx Thx by Leah Dieterich in which she shares a daily thx on her blog. I love that practice of simple and sometimes banal and even disgusting thank-you notes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This one I wrote last January, no doubt on a cold winters night.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thx Thx Thx-</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my beautiful wool bedding. You gave me sleep, restful sleep when my pain was such that I was the princess on the pea. I could not tolerate a normal mattress, or any kind of common bedding. Every sheet felt like sandpaper on my skin. You cradled me in wool. No need to count sheep. I'm sleeping on a cloud again, border collie dreams beside me.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">❤❤<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">my fish want some peppermint bark</span></i></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">☀☀ <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">my bedding comes from surround ewe you can find it on my links</span></i> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-51868559516520006212010-12-05T16:13:00.000-06:002010-12-05T16:13:33.520-06:00Page Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwqTgoldyFD9ZI8qncWQrx8shew55VuQl86oB8pFTajJJ-Lb0ftlf0SX92ObF6xjc_IPwHcudatr-9BVznvCaR11Lg4_hP42uBlPARPUfcahHqw4odZGiYuuie_T56YHS69aviz52YPnx/s1600/IMG_2437_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwqTgoldyFD9ZI8qncWQrx8shew55VuQl86oB8pFTajJJ-Lb0ftlf0SX92ObF6xjc_IPwHcudatr-9BVznvCaR11Lg4_hP42uBlPARPUfcahHqw4odZGiYuuie_T56YHS69aviz52YPnx/s400/IMG_2437_3.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hey friends, over the past two months I've discovered that I am thoroughly enjoying writing again. Now that blogging has returned me to the practice, I may take a little break from blogging and see where the practice of writing essays takes me. I'll leave it up a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">nd post now and then. Hope to hear from you and if you have any questions, need any help with finding resources, just contact me through the email provided.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Want to share this little poem with you. Harry, a four year old friend created it and his mom transcribed it. This is his first poem and it is published with his permission.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The tiger runs behind him.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Accelerate!</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>please stop by and visit my fish</b></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>they'll get lonely ❤</b></span></span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-42666724501079388312010-12-05T16:12:00.001-06:002010-12-05T16:12:42.564-06:00"Plink"<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE22T2PT10uSpnRYnRTR4ZRjTQotZwlJGhmiIUtoY1pLue0Qbh4jN5hn_bCwZgXxcYwSd0xKFwOHw0g3jGrToe4vV7zkOG3_PeNdgdwgBCgje64A232E3QbCqErWHha7pRoPq_UsMTN2e9/s1600/IMG_2409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE22T2PT10uSpnRYnRTR4ZRjTQotZwlJGhmiIUtoY1pLue0Qbh4jN5hn_bCwZgXxcYwSd0xKFwOHw0g3jGrToe4vV7zkOG3_PeNdgdwgBCgje64A232E3QbCqErWHha7pRoPq_UsMTN2e9/s320/IMG_2409.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One summer when I was about four years old, I remember hanging out with a few older boys in the neighborhood. They were sitting by the storm drain, throwing rocks and bottle caps and junk into the sewer. We’d toss them in like tiddily winks and we knew they landed when they “plinked” on the concrete floor. We stared at the shiny objects settled in the shallow murky water. Steve, the neighborhood bully challenged me to a dare and I was game. I impulsively took the little gold ring off my pinky and dropped it right into the mess. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally heard the delicate “plink” which meant my teeny tiny pinky diamond ring was afloat in muck far below the street. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The guys immediately started taunting me, “How could you throw a diamond ring in the sewer? I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer and it just started to dawn on me that I might be in a little bit of trouble. In my mind, I thought there might be a way to get it back, but I just didn’t consider the consequences. After all, he dared me! It was a nice shiny object that surely would add to the fun of making things “Plink”.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I remember a vague scolding from my mom, but I think she was more upset with herself for allowing me to wear that little pinky ring outside to play. The fun for the boys was ruined too. I didn’t cry and they didn’t get to see me get in trouble. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That was my first lesson in non-attachment that I can recall. I don’t remember spending much time grieving over that first piece of jewelry. However, forty plus years later, I could still walk you straight over to the exact storm drain where we played “Plink”. The girl that accepted the dare is still with me, and I am slightly curious to see if a sparkling gem might be resting under the street. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><br />
</div><div>Peace, Healing, Humor</div><div>Cora.</div><div><br />
</div><div>♬ <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>the fish are performing a rock opera.</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b> don't miss out!</b></span></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-13130314773694303372010-12-04T03:41:00.000-06:002010-12-04T03:41:33.278-06:00Guest Author: Anna Tells It Straight<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKayQrosJwe_c8cjaCtXg90fYSufU9fnz2NSckdAeAyCzcYe1Aw1Au7pdvy8HZdVzOJOpMQF1qVS28PXAfeXOElASwlf1GCwkziJjYOCZ41iVfcuG93A50qRj29Apd6lkwdZVUu1YIMYvP/s1600/Stairway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKayQrosJwe_c8cjaCtXg90fYSufU9fnz2NSckdAeAyCzcYe1Aw1Au7pdvy8HZdVzOJOpMQF1qVS28PXAfeXOElASwlf1GCwkziJjYOCZ41iVfcuG93A50qRj29Apd6lkwdZVUu1YIMYvP/s320/Stairway.jpg" width="320" /></a>Thanks Anna,</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Your wisdom </div><div style="text-align: justify;">and resilience, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">inspire all.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Cora</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s tempting to present myself as a very well put together, calm, collected, successful woman (with vulvodynia). I could fall in love with the image of myself as the person who is so strong that nothing fazes her. I imagine that if I were that person I would just incorporate the pain into my sense of self and move on. My life would still be completely my own, entirely under my own discretion. Pain would just become one more little thing, like groceries or a period that must be incorporated into my daily life. Instead of pain having two parts – the physical and the psychological. My image of the ideal woman or girl living with vaginal pain would avoid the psychological ramifications of a life lived in pain and be free to just cope with the real physical pain. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That image of the perfect woman probably isn’t helpful to any of us who live with pelvic pain, it definitely is not useful for me. But acknowledging that I wish I was her is probably necessary – at least that way I hope to prevent her from creeping too much into my thoughts without my awareness. I don’t want to come across like I have figured pelvic pain out. I haven’t. Chronic pain is a path I walk that changes every day. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My life, My work, My self</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the early 2000s, I started graduate school in sociology and I am currently on the brink of finishing my long-awaited dissertation. My research focuses on how educational and social experiences in schools promote positive or negative adolescent development with a specific focus on health behaviors like weight control. More generally, I am interested in how individuals use their education to gain health advantages. I never knew I would learn to use the research for my own survival through barrages of tests and overwhelming experiences with doctors.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the US, there is a strong positive connection between education and health – meaning the more highly-educated you are, the more healthy you are on a variety of measures of health, like mortality (how likely you are to die), morbidity (how likely you are to have a serious disease), and self-reported health (how healthy you feel). My research interest is in how experiences early in the life course, while kids are still in schools, form a foundation of knowledge that people are able to draw from to gain better health for the rest of their lives. You may think that income or health care is the reason why the higher educated have better health (because those with more education are more likely to have higher, stable incomes and are more likely to have stable or better access to health care), but the link between education and health is much more complicated than just that. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are several concepts brought up in the academic literature on the link between education and health that have been particularly useful to me in thinking about how I need to deal with the medical establishment in order to optimize my chance of getting the best care possible in the case of my vulvodynia. An article that has struck me every time I have read it, is an article by Annette Lareau. In it she describes how the way individuals interact with doctors highly impacts the doctor’s ability to give high quality, salient advice. The idea I take from her article is that people who are willing to be honest and blunt with their doctors (however difficult that may be, which it often is when the subject is vaginas or sexual dysfunction), will get better medical attention. Another concept that has stayed vividly in my mind comes from the work of Catherine Ross and John Mirowsky – the idea of personal control. When individuals feel like they can control the direction of their lives, they are more likely to have better health outcomes. Personal control is a key concept in health – if I don’t believe I can change my illness, then giving up may be very tempting. Instead, if I do my best to change my life to maximize health and minimize illness as best I can, I am most likely to have the best mental and physical health possible. Personal control also bleeds into the idea of empowerment – that I can take charge of some parts of my medical decision-making and become an active participant in my healing. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Now let me rant (at least a little) about being a Patient Expert</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the case of vulvodynia, where treatment can take years and patients like me have to endure chronic pain for a long time, there may be times when the patient may know more than her doctor (if she chooses to pay attention to the trends of her body and if she chooses to get out there and inform herself about her disease and her options). A good doctor is key, but active participation on the part of the patient may make significant difference. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have a tendency in this culture to revere doctors and “modern” medicine. For me, questioning my doctors became the most important thing I could possibly do. Feeling in control, empowered, and confident enough to question authority became very important. Ironically, or at least to me it sometimes felt ironic, I was often crying while questioning my doctor’s latest ideas or her choice of drugs to treat my latest infection. But crying, feeling upset, does not oppose control, empowerment and confidence. Becoming comfortable with my vulnerability that arose from being in pain, needing my doctor’s help, and the stress of also knowing I needed to keep my head in the “game”, was important too. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am currently almost five years into my journey with vulvodynia. For a long time, I really did not want to identify as someone with vulvodynia, and so I didn’t want to read too much about women’s experiences with it. It sounded too horrible. What if that became me? What I really wanted to know was that there was a finite deadline, an end in sight. Reading about women’s experiences weren’t guaranteed reassurance – until I had accepted myself. And I was really scared. Finally, I began to reach out and make connections. While there are people out there who are overwhelmed by their pain and who may overwhelm you, there are also people out there so full of amazing health information, support, and open ears to listen to your sorrows or triumphs – it can really help (maybe some other day I will rant about the importance of social support to health). There were also success stories out there. Women got better? WOMEN GET BETTER! Sign me up!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It took time, and the help of a wonderful team of physical therapists and my acupuncturist and me taking good care of my health, to start healing, but slowly things began to change. I went from never being able to sit, to being able to sit three hours straight, to eventually being able to sit all day at work (but of course taking regular walking breaks to take care of my pelvis). Certain other things came back to me – like my sexual desire – with time and work with my caring partner. Life also became easier because I adapted – I have a huge wardrobe of skirts, slacks, yoga pants, sweat pants and all things loose and comfy (before vulvodynia I owned one skirt). Though clothes are always challenging (because some days any clothes can hurt), I have options that help me feel better about the fact that I can’t throw on my favorite jeans. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">No one wants to think that they will have to live with chronic pain, but sadly (because I have see too many of my friends get sick with serious diseases like cancer), I realize that health is a privilege that many of us don’t get to have. Pain is awful. But I have been given this one life. I feel my only choice is to make of it what I will. I can choose to compare myself to my seemingly “healthy” friends, envious of their jeans-wearing carefree ways…or I can recognize the reality: I don’t know if that woman is suffering from vulvodynia or pelvic pain even behind her jeans. If she doesn’t have pain, maybe she has something else – some other silent illness she feels sorrow over that I don’t know about. Maybe I shouldn’t judge. Maybe I’d rather just focus on what I do have. Focus my energy on my healing. Of course with a few temper tantrums about the injustice of it all thrown in (I am not perfect), but a girl has to have a mindset to deal with something so frustrating and constant as chronic pain.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Though there is nothing romantic about surviving something horrible or difficult, I think its true that through life’s difficulties we learn new things about ourselves, maybe even about our fears, loneliness, and hopefully our ability to give and accept love. I have been most afraid, most alone, and also most in love while having vulvodynia. I have learned how to stand up for myself, how to make medical decisions on my own, how to be hysterical but still make sense when speaking on the phone, how to cry quietly but visibly while I explain my situation to someone new, how to allow myself the space and freedom to get a bit fucking upset about this every once in awhile and how to continue living my life with joy and abandon. I have learned to be brave, to tolerate uncertainty (at least more than I once could). I’ve learned to make the best of a difficult situation and I’ve learned that priorities and living exactly how one intends to live are really important. I also have gotten to the point where I can talk to doctors without getting scared, and I can talk about being in pain (usually) without instantly crying. I have changed, and I like who I am. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the record, and to spread a little hope, I consider myself 90% better…I rarely have to think too much about my pelvis, by which I mean I can do almost anything I want and feel no pain. I occasionally have flare ups, and sometimes they depress me, but I have also learned that a flare doesn’t mean I am regressing back to pure pain hell. They too will pass. I just have to be more stubborn than my pain. Stubborn. Now that is a test I can pass! One final thought…I recently, for the first time, asked my physical therapist, how my pain compared to most people’s pain…I add this to give you perspective. While it is true that there are people who have situations that are much worse than my own, my pelvic pain was not insignificant. In fact, I have seen some pretty dark painful times. My message in this moment of pain comparisons is that, I kind of issue a challenge to anyone who feels they cannot heal, to give it a try. My physical therapists helped, my doctors helped, my acupuncturist helped, but I guarantee you that I did it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>* fish are in the snow below,<br />
stop and rest a whileCora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-28474680422067020712010-12-01T01:28:00.000-06:002010-12-01T01:28:37.540-06:00Rhythm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUWBlV8N5EF2Wi1_OkYDSzaHAM5h6GcfUEb2IiPzUBsgSFs2rNeE8GcYFs46fwxFS91Ps6j_4YR2Kvg4-1LXpKEaUf7XCnPlOOf-vuWV9rKbwtxpMTSHzRjuM4Caq-FbF53ODFHAJkQvZ/s1600/IMG_0778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUWBlV8N5EF2Wi1_OkYDSzaHAM5h6GcfUEb2IiPzUBsgSFs2rNeE8GcYFs46fwxFS91Ps6j_4YR2Kvg4-1LXpKEaUf7XCnPlOOf-vuWV9rKbwtxpMTSHzRjuM4Caq-FbF53ODFHAJkQvZ/s320/IMG_0778.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fatigue is familiar to me these days. Often, my sleep is not restful. When the alarm goes off in the morning, I pace through the snooze alarm cycle and sleep too long. I wake up even more exhausted, and disappointed about the wasted time. I used to be one of those annoying morning people, up at sunrise with my internal alarm, ready to go on a morning run and do farm chores.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Today, the sun awakens me. I lie on my comfy wool bedding a few minutes, and slowly slide one weighty foot off the bed, then the other. Dangling on the edge, I consider my options. I could take a vicodin and have some coffee to wake me up. That would do the trick. Or, I could do my morning round of tai chi, and make some green tea. Both would start my engine. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Still half asleep, I shuffle into the living room, pull up the shades and chains of sunlight glisten on the frosted pasture. The neighbor's horses graze rhythmically. The suet bricks are breakfast for the red-bellied and downy woodpeckers. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I start the water for tea and turn on my favorite Japanese instrumental music. My legs ache and my fingers are cool and cramped. The opening stance of the tai chi form is called the horse stance. It grounds me and connects me to the earth. I face the window. I see the horses. I inhale. I focus on my tan t'ien, the Chinese word for center- the life force. I breathe with my heart. I am still. I honor gravity. Cowboy, my border collie ambles over to me and settles close. He sighs and collects my quiet energy. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I breathe and start the tai chi form, my mind is present, but random thoughts start to enter. "What do I need to get done today?" I let the thought float away. Another thought sneaks in. Just passing through. I feel the chi in and around my body; my arms float, gently propelled by my tan t'ien. My muscles are receiving nourishment and they relax. The blood vessels in my fingers dilate and become warm. My breath continues to nourish me and I gently awaken. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">☀ <b>the fish need breakfast too.</b></span></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-48841952306906455432010-11-28T23:49:00.000-06:002010-11-28T23:49:53.551-06:00A Letter<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Recently I composed an open letter that I wanted to send to doctors, PT's and allied professionals that care for people with chronic pelvic pain. I worked on it for days and it was composed as a virtual symposium and I was the guest speaker.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As a nurse, I did my share of public speaking while working with children and families who faced chronic illnesses. So, it was fun for me to pretend I had the stage talking to a room full of people who care for us pelvic pain types. I didn't end up posting that letter or sending it out to the big group, but the exercise helped me identify the concerns I have that affect our care. I sent a different letter to a few trusted PT's. I hope to hear back from them.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Over the past four years of living with pelvic pain, I've learned a lot from fellow patients and we share similar frustrations and concerns about appropriate diagnoses and access to experts. Through these conversations and my own experiences, I'll share some of the questions that I outlined in my letter.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was primarily focused on PT.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Are there evidenced based studies available to support physical therapy for patients with PFD/PN?</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Has the PT profession considered creating a certification for the treatment of pelvic pain?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What really defines a PT as a clinical expert in the treatment of pelvic pain, PFD/PN? </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Is there an algorithm designed to aid in the diagnosis of chronic pelvic pain? </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One that would help the primary care doctor diagnose and refer more promptly.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What efforts are being made regarding a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">campaign targeted at primary care physicians and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">OB/GYN's to aid in better diagnosis and referral of patients? </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Is there an effort being made to educate pain specialists in the unique needs of the pelvic pain patient?</span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"> Is there any collaborative effort on the part of PT's to document the outcomes of therapy? For example a questionnaire at certain intervals post-discharge from PT. Perhaps at 3, 6, 9, 12 month intervals to determine outcomes, quality of life, functioning after PT. Other outcome measures such as disability claims, return to work might be evaluated as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"> I have spent a lot of time looking at the IPPS site. When I read the bios and mission statements of the doctors there, they are quite impressive. I am wondering how active they are in pursuing these goals, as some are very similar to what I have outlined above. I do want to say that I think the books that have been written thus far, the educational patient handouts, and few t.v spots (which were sensationalistic) seem to focus on pelvic pain as primarily a sexual pain issue, and they minimize or dismiss the overall lifestyle effects. In addition, they fail to address the complexity of the heterogenous patient population that develops pelvic pain.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I concluded my letter with comments from the point of view as a patient, a nurse, and what I have observed as a member on some pelvic pain forums. Generally speaking, many chronic pelvic pain patients are on their own when initial treatments fail. The care is quite fragmented and primary care doctors are uninformed about the diagnosis and treatment options. The result is often that patients end up with significant financial, physical and emotional costs.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I hope to get a useful dialogue going to improve communication between the specialties and improve our access to people with expertise. The reality right now, is that like many patients with chronic, misunderstood conditions, there is a dearth of peer reviewed studies, educational materials and access to expert practitioners. That leaves many patients running in circles like the proverbial hamster on a wheel, spending our limited resources searching for answers. This post and that letter, is a small attempt to help us get off that wheel.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Peace, Healing, Humor</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Cora</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">❦ feed the fish</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> make a wish</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-65023633075121944052010-11-27T23:09:00.000-06:002010-11-27T23:09:04.126-06:00Swearing is good for Pain !!#@##$!I heard this study today on the wonderful ignobel prizes. They are awards for unusual science that first makes you laugh, then think. <br />
Had to put this out there.<br />
<br />
Cora<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Verdana, Geneva, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"></span><br />
<h2 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal bold 18px/18px 'Trebuchet MS'; margin-bottom: 4px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.5em; padding-left: 2px; padding-right: 2px; padding-top: 0.5em; text-shadow: rgb(221, 221, 221) 3px 3px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/2009/07/swearing_increases_pain_tolerance.php" id="a127094" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Swearing increases pain tolerance</a></h2><div class="categories" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102) !important; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; font: normal normal normal 11px/16px 'Trebuchet MS' !important; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 12px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Category: <a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/neuroscience/" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Neuroscience</a> • <a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/psychology/" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Psychology</a><br />
Posted on: July 13, 2009 1:02 PM, by <a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/2009/07/swearing_increases_pain_tolerance.php" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mo</a></div><div class="entry" id="entry-127094" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div align="justify" class="lead" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">SWEARING occurs in most cultures - people swear to let off steam, or to shock or insult others. It is also a common response to a painful experience. We've all done it: after stubbing our toe, or hitting our thumb with a hammer, we draw a sharp breath and mutter a swear word. Until now, though, whether swearing actually alters our perception of pain had not been investigated. But according to a new study due to be published next month in the journal <em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">NeuroReport</em>, swearing increases pain tolerance, enabling us to withstand at least one form of pain for longer.</div><div align="justify" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Some pain theorists regard our tendency to swear after hurting ourselves to be a form of "pain-related catastrophising" - an exaggerated negative mind set which is brought to bear during a painful experience. As such, swearing is thought of as a maladaptive response, which contributes to the intensity of the pain and emotional distress. Given that it is such a common response, <a href="http://www.keele.ac.uk/depts/ps/people/RStephens/index.htm" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0054a6; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Richard Stephens</a> and his colleagues at the Keele University <a href="http://www.keele.ac.uk/depts/ps/psyhome.htm" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0054a6; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">School of Psychology</a> set out test the hypothesis that swearing would decrease pain tolerance and increase pain perception.</div><div id="more" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div align="justify" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">They recruited 67 undergraduates, and asked to make two short lists of words - one containing five words they might use after hitting themselves on the thumb with a hammer, the other containing five words they might use to describe a table. The participants submerged one of their hands into room temperature water for three minutes, to provide a standardized starting point, then transferred it to a container of cold water and instructed to keep it submerged for as long as they could. In one condition, they were told to repeat the first swear word they had included in their list; in another, they repeated one of the words describing a table.</div><div align="justify" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The researchers measured how long the participants kept their hands submerged in cold water, and asked them to rate the amount of pain they felt. Their heart rates were also recorded after they had submerged their hands in room temperature water as well as after the submersion in cold water. Contrary to their hypothesis, they found that swearing actually reduced the amount of pain felt. The participants kept their hands submerged in the cold water longer for longer, and also reported experiencing less pain, when they repeated a swear word than when they repeated a word describing a table. Swearing was also associated with increased heart rate. </div><div align="justify" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Swearing therefore enabled the participants to tolerate to the cold temperature for longer, and also caused a reduction in their perception of the pain felt. A difference between males and females was observed. Swearing led to a greater reduction in pain perception and a bigger increase in heart rate in females. Most interestingly though, the effect of swearing in females occurred regardless of their tendency to catastrophise their pain. On the other hand, in the males, catastrophising was found to diminish the effects of swearing on the felt pain. This is interesting in light of other findings which show that men generally catastrophise less, but swear more often, than women.</div><div align="justify" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">This study shows that swearing appears to have an analgesic effect under certain conditions. Exactly how is unclear, but the authors suggest that it is because swearing induces negative emotions. It is well known that pain has a strong emotional aspect to it. Fear of pain, for example, is known to enhance pain perception, possibily by activating pathways which descend from the brain and modulate noxious stimuli entering the spinal cord. Swearing, too, is known to induce negative emotions (according to <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200811/swear-words" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0054a6; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Steven Pinker</a>, it taps into the "deep and ancient parts of the emotional brain"). It may therefore trigger a physiological alarm reaction known as the fight or flight response, which accelerates the heart rate and reduces sensitivity to pain. </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Related:</strong></div><ul style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 24px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://scienceblogs.com/seed-img/misc_arrow_orange.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 5px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 4px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/2008/02/cold_thermosensation.php" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0054a6; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mechanisms of cold thermosensation</a></span></li>
<li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://scienceblogs.com/seed-img/misc_arrow_orange.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 5px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.75; margin-bottom: 4px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://scienceblogs.com/neurophilosophy/2008/11/distorting_the_body_image_affects_perception_of_pain.php" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0054a6; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Distorting the body image affects pain perception</a> </span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;"><b>☺</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>please feed the fish so they won't be in pain</b></span></span></span></div></div></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-11522646996124580492010-11-25T19:04:00.001-06:002010-11-25T19:06:47.119-06:00Guest Author Pomegranate: Six Word Memoir<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJs2z6OSIIZCAoT82G1_pzSZFujSrplHT0N4tdpN38gVWybcNcrHTCFA4mVjt8TCNCB_kgOFI0UgqPff6qnZZxaWBFKVXQPk49X3SHX9PvRKSuxt-AB39wpbvvrza1-1WiAUcgokU3AfR/s1600/pomegranate-fall-market-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJs2z6OSIIZCAoT82G1_pzSZFujSrplHT0N4tdpN38gVWybcNcrHTCFA4mVjt8TCNCB_kgOFI0UgqPff6qnZZxaWBFKVXQPk49X3SHX9PvRKSuxt-AB39wpbvvrza1-1WiAUcgokU3AfR/s320/pomegranate-fall-market-lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Still me</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Still smiling</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Just smaller</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">❃</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> how peaceful it is</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> to feed the fish</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></div></div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-87681590525189969122010-11-22T12:35:00.000-06:002010-11-22T12:35:39.466-06:00Invisible Friends<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9uXS0yOaeLO_eLwQwp9aEZ-PShGSztsZNKiK7s4c20t5VdPSOijJPpcE3giQqQClbhtsSMJfwVWhRWq4Re4rcddHQ4n0cIdcNJQjl74fVryNRM45cyFo-k7LzFVK_0k5G6lyLR4Ppdhq/s1600/IMG_2372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9uXS0yOaeLO_eLwQwp9aEZ-PShGSztsZNKiK7s4c20t5VdPSOijJPpcE3giQqQClbhtsSMJfwVWhRWq4Re4rcddHQ4n0cIdcNJQjl74fVryNRM45cyFo-k7LzFVK_0k5G6lyLR4Ppdhq/s320/IMG_2372.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Four years ago when I developed pelvic pain, I remember a PT telling me about a support group called Happy Pelvis on yahoo groups. I instantly loved the name, given that my pelvis was grumpy at the time and I felt afraid and isolated. I couldn't really get my mind around the concept of talking </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">about my personal health issues</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to strangers on a computer screen. I signed up anyway, and lurked for a while until I felt comfortable enough to join in the conversation. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Through Happy Pelvis and another group called HOPE I have met some amazing people. They are courageous in sharing their stories, insights and experiences both positive and discouraging. Beyond emotional support, I have found resources that I would not have found anywhere else. I've been able to educate my doctors, family and friends with information from these communities.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A few women are now my dear friends. Despite our age differences and geography, we became fast friends. To one, I am a surrogate big sister and we can talk about life well beyond what initially connected us. Our family backgrounds are strikingly similar and that made us instantly familiar with each other. When I am having a bad day, she is there for me with a sweet text message and a photo of her beautiful cat. Another sends me photos of her travels to Costa Rica and together, we share a distant sunset. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I recently reconnected with a friend after she took a break from the support group. I thought about her so much over the past year and I was elated when I saw her return. We caught up by phone the other day exchanging stories about disappointing doctors and other frustrations related to pelvic pain. She told me that she was adding a new puppy to her family, and I quickly went into dog training mode and shared my expertise. Bon and I were able to slip right back into the cadence of our friendship. Listening to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">her southern accent adds texture to a friendship where we likely will never meet one another. There are times when I have to remind myself of that. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The two groups that I belong to are a sanctuary. They provide a sacred space to vent and share with others who are on the same trail as me. Like therapy, I can go there and dump my worries and support others. I can preserve my strength and be more available to my husband, my dog and friends around me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm fascinated too by the sociology of the groups. . Sometimes I sign on and study the screen names and avatars. I laugh every time I see Pelvis Stressley. Now, how did he come up with that name? Her Majesty writes each post with commanding confidence and royalty. I wonder about Tiny Dancer? I imagine a little tinker bell, petite and waif-like. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then there are names like Graceunderfire. I say it real fast. I want to have "graceunderfire". A reminder of what we need now and then.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lately, I've gotten to know a lovely woman called Pomegranate. I stumbled upon her blog which inspired me to start writing again. As we delicately start sharing little seeds of our lives with each other, I sense a friendship developing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know that these friendships remain in the virtual realm, and are likely to be transient. Yet, the support and guidance we give one another is a gift. The definition of friendship is evolving for me. I have a collection of invisible friends. But they are real.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">☟<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">fish below, glowing, hopeful for some food </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and a visit. sweet karma when you feed the fish </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">and wish upon a fish.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2940789470008669048.post-69710286430848250432010-11-19T00:16:00.000-06:002010-11-19T00:16:00.316-06:00Guest Author Karen W: Poem<div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7S0ssq0evOh6I2xvazh-aTV6vsqyjK0jw5-ooJJOKjoDjk7tw0F_Php1cq-wAxOvyWXnij8wk_xkGd6CmmxLC_fIAV9e0eTNZ5Ig3ebRY2gkn4qOFekkuWdPRB2ANG34Q1IR4DGvTcTc/s1600/IMG_2229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7S0ssq0evOh6I2xvazh-aTV6vsqyjK0jw5-ooJJOKjoDjk7tw0F_Php1cq-wAxOvyWXnij8wk_xkGd6CmmxLC_fIAV9e0eTNZ5Ig3ebRY2gkn4qOFekkuWdPRB2ANG34Q1IR4DGvTcTc/s320/IMG_2229.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sitting in silence, intently gazing at the leaves at play in the breeze…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nothing distracts her; her thoughts are like beacons that hold her mind in the steadiest of frames…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where once she danced alone in the light of Sister moon, now she shares only cheeks covered in tears…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Do not disturb her, decisions of this nature need to be carefully and deeply considered…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Is there a reason to continue? After all Sister moon still shines…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But, time has passed and with it the hope of any happiness or fulfillment…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Loneliness, isolation, and the knowledge that this will likely never change give fuel to her fire, and she considers her possibilities…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Water? Fire? Ice? </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The choice will be made; the decision arrived at precisely when the moment is right…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But for now, she will consider the leaves playfully dancing in the setting sun…</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peace, Healing, Humor</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cora</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">fish karma......</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">❁ said the blue fish down</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">in the virtual sea, ask your</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">visitors to stop and feed me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">random acts of kindness go a long </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">way, to brighten our spirits and others </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">we may meet today. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Cora Storyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06608376693071653740noreply@blogger.com2