My Dependence is Great

Now that the situation is over, I am able to share it. It was too scary to think about while it was going on. You see, I almost lost Maisie.

I had let her go outside to potty, as usual. She walked the perimeter of the yard, sniff each fence post and then went to "her spot" to take care of her "business."  I shut the door, knowing she'd let me know when she was finished. Everything was as it always was. Nothing was different or out of the ordinary. Then, I heard the most horrible noise.

I opened the door to look and giant lab/German Shepherd had my Maisie by the neck. I screamed for my husband as I tried to scramble down the steps to save her. Once I was close enough, I started hitting the stray with my cane. All I could see was black fur and blood.

My husband arrived and began pulling the dog off of Maisie. He was caught off balance and fell backwards. The dog ran off and jumped the fence - probably how he got in the yard to begin with.

Maisie was shaking and bleeding. We live in the country and getting into town to our vet would take some time. It didn't look like Maisie had much time. My husband scooped her up and ran into the house with her. I stood in the yard, holding my bloody cane, so afraid I might lose Maisie.

I managed to get in the house. My husband was barking orders at our daughter to get her shoes on and searching for something to wrap Maisie in. I sat on the couch and held her. I used my sweatshirt that was on the couch to cover her up. My husband arrived with a giant towel and wrapped Maisie up. He tossed my sweatshirt on the floor. I looked at it. It was covered in blood.

Before I got sick and became disabled, I had spent years working as the Public Relations Coordinator for an animal shelter/rescue. I had done much more than just PR; I had worked every job there - including assisting the veterinarian with procedures and surgeries. I tried to remember what to do with injured animals - check their wounds, stop the bleeding and keep them still. I couldn't remember any of it. All I could think was that Maisie was bleeding to death in my lap.

What seemed like hours passed before we got to the vet. I sat in the car and held Maisie, talking to her and telling her everything was going to be okay. I didn't sound very convincing. Siobhann was crying and so was my husband.

The vet saw her immediately. She gave her a sedative and began cleaning her wounds. I sat in the procedure room and watched all of it. I couldn't leave her.

My head was running through all the times she had saved me. Like the time I fell in the WalMart parking lot and she grabbed a man by the pants leg and brought him to me. I also remembered the time Siobhann pulled away from me in the grocery store and Maisie "barked in circles" around her, forcing everyone to look. I knew I wouldn't be able to survive without her.

The vet finished stitching up Maisie and put her in my lap. She said something about how everything was going to be okay, but all I heard was the soft whimpering coming from my lap.

Maisie is fine now. All of her stitches have been removed and she is almost back to her old self. She doesn't run and jump with Siobhann the way she did before. I think she is still a bit sore. She does comes running when I fall and helps me work through my anxiety attacks. Maisie still fetches things for me, but she is a bit slower than normal.

Her recovery has been a wonderful opportunity for me to give back to Maisie. I was able to take her medication to her. I talked to her as she tried to rest. I brought her pillows and blankets. For the first time in our relationship, I was able to help her.

I can't imagine my life without her. Maisie is more than just my service dog. She is one of my best friends. Maisie is there for me, no matter what - even when she is hurt. I knew I was dependent on her for so many things, but I didn't realize how much until she was hurt. There are few things I am able to do without her and even more things she makes so much easier for me.

Attacking Anxiety

The past several days, I have been fighting anxiety. Unfortunately, it was been winning. I've had, on average, five anxiety attacks each day for almost a week. Not only are anxiety attacks unsettling for me and those around me, they are physically painful for me. With all the uncontrollable shaking, crying and pacing, my body feels like it has gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Between anxiety attacks, I decided to become proactive...

Instead of anxiety attacking me, I did my best at attacking anxiety. It isn't the same as treating anxiety attacks, but without any medications for anxiety, it was the best I could do. How do you go about attacking anxiety? I have a few tricks up my sleeve...

My biggest trick for attacking anxiety is Maisie. Maisie is my service dog and she is able to sense to when I am about to have an anxiety attack. Please don't ask me how she does this. I do not have a clue. I just know that she begins paying special attention to me and gets this look in her eye. I know what that means and start trying to calm down and remove myself from the situation. If there is a situation. Many of my anxiety attacks are not brought on by "situations;" they happen for no particular reason. If I can stop an anxiety attack before it starts or before it is "full-blown," it is much better for me and everyone around me.

Another trick for attacking anxiety are my breathing exercises. I understand that sounds that hokey, but if I can concentrate on my breathing and control my breathing, the anxiety attacks are not as bad and they do not last as long. I "breath in the good" and "exhale the bad." I breath in all the good I can and hold it for as long as possible. I then slowly exhale all the bad. I repeat this as many times as necessary, breathing my way out of an anxiety attack.

I also "talk my way out of an anxiety attack." This way of attacking anxiety looks (and sounds) crazy, but it works for me. I go into a small room (usually my bathroom) and talk to the anxiety attack. Yes, I literally talk to it out loud. I explain to the anxiety attack that things are no worse then they were a few minutes ago and that this will pass. I list all of the good things in my life, repeating many of them if I am also having a bout with depression at that particular moment. I am very careful to control my voice. I use a deeper voice and speak slowly and softly. I also use my breathing exercises to calm myself down as I talk to the anxiety attack.

If you've been wondering where I've been the past few days, now you know. I've been in the bathroom, breathing in the good and breathing out the bad as I talk to the anxiety attacks. Of course, I had Maisie in my lap - pulling for me to get better. As crazy as it sounds, I've learned that these are ways I can go about attacking anxiety. If nothing else, it makes me feel a bit more in control which is always nice.

In a Funk: Why Do They Call It "Depression?"

The past couple of days have been rough on me; depression is not fun. I hate it when I get depressed. I feel as if nothing will ever go my away again. I know it isn't true. The "self-absorbed pity party" isn't my thing, but I still suffer from depression no matter how I fight it. I'm the type of person that "choices to laugh" and when I hit the "depression wall," laughing doesn't feel like an option.

I've tried all sorts of medications for my depression. They don't work. They only make me more tired, more sluggish and more confused. I don't think there is a pill that can make my sadness go away. How can an anti-depressant help me not to feel sad that it hurts when my daughter hugs me? How can an anti-depressant make me not feel sad when I see all the hair in the tub after I wash it? How can an anti-depressant make me not feel sad as I struggle to fit into extra large sweatpants?

Of course, my mother's method to getting over depression only makes matters worse. "Think of people in worse shape than you are in and you'll feel better," she suggests. Who would ever think that would work? Thinking of the homeless, the hungry and the people who are sicker than I am only makes my depression worse.

Searching for my "happy place" is just as depressing. Rainbows and fluffy bunnies? That is not my style. I am a realist. As a realist, I know that depression is real and I have it. I have to deal with my depression one day at a time. I cry my eyes out, yell at a train and do what I can to move on. How else can you deal with depression?

I only have a couple of bouts of depression a week, so it isn't like I am depressed all the time. I have my "semi-happy" moments as well. I can't say that I have "totally happy moments" anymore. It is hard to be completely when you hurt all the time, the bills are past due and the hand life dealt you isn't very good. I just make the best of it and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Tomorrow will be better. I tell myself that all the time. It will be better because it means today is over and will never come back. I try to hold on to little things like that. Not sure if it helps with the depression, but I know there is always hope - no matter how depressed I may be.

Recovering From Yesterday

Despite the way my day started off yesterday, fighting against Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, I still had things that needed to be done. I almost finished them, but not quite. Now, I am recovering from everything I did yesterday.

I did what I consider to be a lot of writing yesterday.  I finished two articles for Associated Content. I wrote and published a list for List My Five. I even wrote another list for them and published it today. I did my post here as well as my post for my other blog, Keyword Crazy. I was spent and unable to do anymore. I knew I had to do something. Our financial situation is getting worse and I had to do something to improve it. I am now paying the price.


As easy as yesterday may seem to many, it took all I had to give. Today, I am even more slow and sluggish than normal. I can't imagine setting an alarm, getting up and dressed and heading off to a job. To do something for eight hours a day is impossible for me.

People look at me and can't see that I am disabled. I look "normal" and healthy. Of course, I could remove my scarf and they would see my bald spots. When I walk they are able to see how slowly I move and how unsteady I am on my feet. My cane should be a giveaway, but some use them as a "prop." I really need my cane.

I am off to take a nap. My hands are hurting quite a bit and my back is in spasms. Maybe if I crawl into bed and be really still I will feel better soon. If that happens, I will be back at my computer - writing away and trying to make a little money.

Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia Kept Me Up All Night

I was up all night, fighting Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia. No, not just Restless Leg Syndrome and not just Fibromyalgia. Both of them, at once, decided to keep me awake and in pain. Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia should form a wrestling tag team. They would be unstoppable.

My poor husband also suffers from my Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia. He didn't get much sleep either. With me tossing and turning and constantly kicking, he probably would have been better off on the couch. I tried the couch, but my arthritis can make the most comfy of couch feel like a bed of nails. He tried to be nice about it, but I could tell that around four this morning he'd had enough. Off to the kitchen for a much-too-early first cup of coffee in the morning. He tells me all the time "I feel like I have Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia too." I wouldn't go quite that far, but I understand how he "suffers" from both Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia.

The Restless Leg Syndrome I have isn't the "typical" Restless Leg Syndrome. Like almost everyone else who has it, I have the giant leg kicks for no reason. On top of that, I have little twitches up and down both legs. It is like an eye twitch, only there are thousands of them in both of my legs. They don't stop. I also feel hot needles travel through my thigh and calf muscles - like evil snakes whose only venom is pain. With Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia combined, I'm not sure what I should do.

I have tried all sorts of medications to control it. I've been in a hot bath at three in the morning trying to get my legs to relax. My husband has tried massaging them, but the Fibromyalgia won't let him touch me. Changed my diet. Changed my bedtime. Changed my "get up" time. I have yet to find anything that will help. Does anyone have any ideas or suggestions of what I can try to better deal with Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia? I'll try almost anything legal to feel better and sleep better. Then again, I hope no one reading this has a clue about it. I wouldn't wish Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia on anyone.

With Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia "attacking" me at once like it did last night, I woke up feeling like I had ran a couple of marathons and got beat up. My legs are sore and tired from all their activity. The Fibromyalgia pain is typical, but only worse. Imagine being tired and in pain, with no idea how to rest or stop the pain. That is where I am at now. I feel like I am walking around on noodles. Just another day in the life of someone with Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia.

Don't get me wrong. I understand there are far worse things than having Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia. I am thankful I have legs that can be restless and I am not paralyzed and unable to feel anything. I try to be thankful. On those mornings were Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia have "tag teamed" me, it is more difficult than it should be.

Ahh, just another day in my life. I make it through with God's help. I can't wait until something changes and I am able to have the medications I need to not to suffer so much with Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia. I've always heard "this, too, shall pass." I'm a believer in positive thinking. It is just hard to think the way you should when Restless Leg Syndrome and Fibromyalgia has kept you up all night.

Spoke with My Social Security Disability Attorney Team

Yes, I have a team of attorneys helping me win my Social Security disability claim. I decided to go with Binder and Binder when I checked out the disability lawyers in my area. They didn't have as good of record when it came to winning against the Social Security Administration. Most of them hadn't won over 60% of their cases. I couldn't take that chance. My future depends on winning my disability claim. Well...

I spoke with the lead attorney for my claim. He said that they were still waiting to hear from Social Security's Office of Disability Adjudication and Review. That name scares me! I call them "the folks that always say wait and no." It fits them well. I can't believe we are still at least two years away from finding out if they will even grant an appeal. I understand there are a lot of other disabled people needing disability, but it shouldn't take this long.

I was thrilled to find out that my two state senators and several of my congressmen have written even more letters to the Social Security Administration. My attorney told me that Binder and Binder has received copies of five different letters my legislatures have written on behalf.  I am hoping that helps. I didn't realize that they would even write letters until I called them. I was desperate and needed some help. Their offices said they would "check into it." I rolled my eyes, understanding what that meant. I was wrong. They are really doing something.

I am gathering up my latest disconnect notices from my utilities companies and the eviction notice to send to Binder and Binder. My attorney explained that, sometimes, they will speed up the process by granting me a "hardships appeal." Of course, by the time it all goes through the legal red tape, it will be weeks (if not months) down the road.

I have to wonder how many others are in the same boat I am in. I can't be the only one. I'm sure there are thousands. I read online somewhere that many people do not get an appeal because the Social Security Administration doesn't always accept addresses of homeless shelters and many people waiting for appeals are homeless.

There is something wrong with all of this. In order to even have a hearing, you have to prove that you worked long enough (and paid into the system enough) to qualify for disability. If you are denied at the hearing, that is when you must appeal. All of us have paid enough into Social Security to get disability benefits, yet we are forced into homelessness because of all the delays. Once homeless, we may not get the appeal.

All of it is frustrating. I hate calling my attorney because it seems the news is never good. However, the squeaky wheel gets the grease. I am squeaky! Speaking of being squeaky...

I'm calling my senators and congressmen again this afternoon. I might as well get squeaky with them. Again.

My attorney, as always, said, "Don't worry, Emma, we are on top of this. Concentrate on feeling better and taking care of yourself. We do this every day, several times a day, and we've been doing it for years." Not much comfort when it is winter and the electricity (our only source of heat) is about to be turned off. Of course, we are evicted, we won't have to worry about our electric bill.

Fasicia Pain

Today, I am dealing with fasicia pain around my knees and in my hands. For the record, "fasicia" is the connective tissue that surrounds your muscles, nerves and blood vessels. They are all over your body and they connect your "parts" together. Fasicia pain is extremely common for those of us with Fibromyalgia.

You know that spots where you thighs become you knees and you knees become your calves? That is where I hurt. It doesn't matter if my knee is extended or not, it still hurts. And, up the back of my knee hurts as well. I used a heating pad earlier today and that didn't help. It might have, but I couldn't find a position comfortable enough to stay in for more than a few minutes. If I was able to get comfy and stay still for 15 or 30 minutes, the heat might help.

The pain in my hands is in the "webbing" of my fingers. Webbing is the only term I can think of that describes where I hurt. My fingers aren't actually webbed though! Thank God for that.  I am referring to the area of my hands between my fingers and where my fingers connect to my hands. Pinch that little area there and that is where I hurt.

Truthfully, that isn't a very big area of the human body to hurt. Remember that size doesn't matter! It amazes me how much I use those spots. It is impossible to move your hands without moving the "webbing." The pain is intense. Typing is not easy. Holding onto anything is painful. Especially little things - like a fork or pen.

I'm going to "play spider" in the sink.  That is what I call it when I fill the sink up with warm (almost hot water) and "walk" my fingers around  in it. Sometimes the warm water and the exercise helps with the pain. It is worth a shot.