In English, the term “rehabilitation” sounds harsh – like a 12-step program to quit drinking – but it is the most correct term for what I’ve been doing for the past three weeks: I’ve been at a facility called Vikersund Bad & Rehabilitering (pictured above). It is a treatment and rehabilitation facility for a myriad of conditions, including those causing chronic pain and fatigue. I was there for my Fibromyalgia.
For the past three weeks, I’ve done mostly two things: I’ve had a lot of theory – essentially lectures – about varying topics regarding living with a chronic condition, such as stress management, sleep management, communication and boundaries, what is chronic pain, and so on. And I’ve done activities – from fairly intense workouts (HIIT-45) to walks around the area, to – wait for it – video games. Yes. Video games. Even a Virtual Reality one. It was fun! Got HELLA dizzy – but it was fun. The facility (also) caters to older patients, and patients recovering from stroke, so some of the activities are low intensity, which honestly suited me perfectly… I’ve also had a lot of talks with my designated physiotherapist and social worker / contact person to figure out the way forward.
To a chronic pain Spoonie, the whole shabang can be quite grueling, since you are meant to push yourself a little physically. For an introvert, it can seem overwhelming, since you’re around (a lot of) people all day every day. But – the major selling-point for a facility like this is the staff; how they customize everything to fit you – the patient. This means that if you for whatever reason are unable or unsure of a certain activity, you can either drop it – or have your physiotherapist along with you for support.
I mention that last part because the text-book “solution” to anything Fibromyalgia is warmth – either by doing exercises in a warm-water pool (which they have at the facility) or by the person preferring warmer climates to alleviate the chronic pain. Guess who reacts badly to both cold and warm? Me. My Fibromyalgia flares up in both winter (which is common) and summer (…apparently less common). Although the flare-ups are slightly different depending on the time of year, they still result in pain in some way, shape or form. This meant that anything in the warm-water pool was either out of the question, or I could only attempt it (to see if it had any effect at all) with my physiotherapist present. Sadly, though, circumstances lead to me never venturing into the pool at all. This also meant that my physiotherapist had to get creative, hence me waving my hands around one morning while wearing a set of VR-goggles, playing virtual 360-degree Squash. (She was honestly just happy with me upping my daily average steps-count, and at the brink of literal tears when showed just how much that daily average had increased.)
Even with the recent outbreak of the novel Coronavirus (COVID-19) and subsequent stricter regulations in the dining hall and elsewhere on the facility grounds, I am seriously impressed by the staff and what they accomplished amidst it all. They still provided 4 nutritious and tasty meals every day, and still managed to uphold any and all dietary restrictions any patient might have. Some staff had to be quarantined, and a lot of uncertainty pertaining to the daily grind could be felt, but nonetheless – they kept going.
Essentially, I used both my brain and body more these past few weeks more than I have in years. At the time of writing this, I have been at home for about 3 days, and I’m still exhausted and recovering from the delayed onset muscle soreness and fatigue. I’ve learned quite a bit, and I’ve made a plan of sorts for how to cope with everything in the future.
My takeaway from it all is this: I do a lot of things “right” when it comes to dealing with my brain and body sometimes not cooperating. I know a lot of the theory behind the practices already, and I know what I am supposed to do. I may have pushed myself a tiny bit too hard, though, and I’m suffering the consequences now – but I did not collapse completely, which is something.
I spent three weeks living in a sort of weird Spoonie-bubble, and now I’m readjusting to a new weird normal where everyone around me is terrified of this new virus and doing all the things I already do on the daily. Which is kind of amusing, in a way: Now – suddenly – everyone knows what it’s like to be susceptible to illnesses (from being immunocompromised) and taking the necessary precautions accordingly.
The Spoonie Saga 