I met my most recent friend because of a spreadsheet. I gave her assistance, which took some time because my Excell skills are still somewhere at the equivalent of 2nd grade math. We’ve talked several times now and yesterday, she gave me back my life.
At least it feels that way. At fifteen, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome. I don’t really claim those labels because I don’t like defining myself with labels that are applied to such a wide spectrum of people’s sufferings. I have many friends and some family with fibromyalgia and it’s definitely not made up, but I don’t think we all suffer from the same thing and “fibromyalgia” is a label they give you when they don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve found that a lot of my pain is related to a milk allergy. Cut out milk and add stretching and about 70% of the pain is gone. The only thing is it’s really hard to keep on stretching and cut out milk because milk is in everything – at least everything worth eating – and small town Texas isn’t exactly vegan-friendly. But I realized the other day, it’s been 18 years since I can remember going without constant pain. I just got used to it.
However, this woman healed herself from some pretty major stuff. She doesn’t sell supplements, she’s not involved in some miracle program. But she’s helped a lot of people and, not only did she sit down and show me what worked for her and some friends who have what I have, she brought some of her supply for me to try before I went and bought anything. Obviously, it hasn’t had time to see what it will do for me – though I did sleep extremely well last night. In fact, I woke up at 3:30 ready to start the day and had to coax myself back to sleep for another hour. But I’m awake now and grateful. Because she brought me more than nutrition. She brought me hope.