I haven't had pot since sometime in the early 1980s, so I don't know how it would affect my pain & fatigue problems. I do remember that it had it's own negative effect on my getting things done though. I've wondered about how/whether it would be medically useful to me, but have been nervous about experimenting in the current legal climate.
The most useful doctors I've seen have been rheumatologists. Yay for rheumatologists.
As to which of us has more debilitating pain, it probably depends on which day you look. I haven't had to walk hunched over all that often, but I have had to descend stairs backwards so that I could use my arms more when having a bad leg/hip day, and sometimes I lurch. Yes, it's a bitch to live with, and I think the energy-sapping aspect bothers me even more than the sensation of pain does. (Also the cognitive glitches that -- "fibro-fog" and short term memory problems -- that accompany fibromyalgia; in addition to getting in my way and being frustrating, those attack a major aspect of my self-image.) I know what you mean about jar lids and junk mail, too -- on a good day I still have strength but sometimes I'm afraid I'll hurt myself if I use it, and on bad days I feel as weak as a kitten.
Despite the "invisible disability" problem, most of my friends seem able to understand on at least an intellectual level, and some of my friends are better at spotting when I need to slow down than I am. Still, it's easy for folks to overlook or forget ... and even when I'm with people who do understand, I still feel bad for not being able to hold up my end sometimes (like when we're packing up the sound system after a gig, or when friends are moving).
That last bit connects to what you said about not thinking of yourself as a disabled person. It's hard enough when I've got "the old, capable me" as so much of my self-image, but add in the fact that my condition -- an my limits -- are variable ... "I'm not in a wheelchair," ... "On a good day I can do stuff," ... "I can lift that box even though I know I'll hurt for two days if I do."
I've had people tell me, "Well, we all find stuff we can't do any more as we get old." That misses an important point: I (and you) have been robbed of several years of being able to do those things. I can, with effort, adjust to knowing that I can't push my body as hard as I did when I was nineteen. I have a lot more trouble dealing with not being able to function like a normal sixty-year-old when I'm a good long way from being that age yet.
(no subject)
The most useful doctors I've seen have been rheumatologists. Yay for rheumatologists.
As to which of us has more debilitating pain, it probably depends on which day you look. I haven't had to walk hunched over all that often, but I have had to descend stairs backwards so that I could use my arms more when having a bad leg/hip day, and sometimes I lurch. Yes, it's a bitch to live with, and I think the energy-sapping aspect bothers me even more than the sensation of pain does. (Also the cognitive glitches that -- "fibro-fog" and short term memory problems -- that accompany fibromyalgia; in addition to getting in my way and being frustrating, those attack a major aspect of my self-image.) I know what you mean about jar lids and junk mail, too -- on a good day I still have strength but sometimes I'm afraid I'll hurt myself if I use it, and on bad days I feel as weak as a kitten.
Despite the "invisible disability" problem, most of my friends seem able to understand on at least an intellectual level, and some of my friends are better at spotting when I need to slow down than I am. Still, it's easy for folks to overlook or forget ... and even when I'm with people who do understand, I still feel bad for not being able to hold up my end sometimes (like when we're packing up the sound system after a gig, or when friends are moving).
That last bit connects to what you said about not thinking of yourself as a disabled person. It's hard enough when I've got "the old, capable me" as so much of my self-image, but add in the fact that my condition -- an my limits -- are variable ... "I'm not in a wheelchair," ... "On a good day I can do stuff," ... "I can lift that box even though I know I'll hurt for two days if I do."
I've had people tell me, "Well, we all find stuff we can't do any more as we get old." That misses an important point: I (and you) have been robbed of several years of being able to do those things. I can, with effort, adjust to knowing that I can't push my body as hard as I did when I was nineteen. I have a lot more trouble dealing with not being able to function like a normal sixty-year-old when I'm a good long way from being that age yet.