
Just a newsy update: Following a necessary extraction of an upper molar, my body is in a full fibromyalgia flare. Given the surgeon said the tooth seemed to be seated in concrete, safe to assume the lower and upper jaw was traumatized. Pain and tightness cover my neck, temples, shoulders. In addition, a current fibro symptom is trembling in such a way I think I may end up on my tush or drop whatever I’m carrying.
Dietary needs that are part of the solution instead of the problem have taken priority over changes I’ve recently tried to incorporate. Most days in the past week, dinner has been milkshakes and fries. Regular snacks include Ginger ale with ice, protein drinks, oatmeal, cream of wheat, you get the idea. Oh, and biscotti. My husband made delicious blueberry pancakes this morning. They don’t require a lot of heavy duty chewing.
That bright line of sugar has definitely been crossed many, many times. What are ya gonna do? Will I work my way back now? And then… the answer appeared out of nowhere. I wondered if it was too good to be true, but it seemed to hold. My husband weighed himself and the scale broke! It now says we each weigh 12 pounds. Perhaps it’s the energy of the universe releasing me. Yes? No? I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but who am I to ignore this important sign?
I chose the picture above because it’s awesome, literally, naught to do with this post. Here’s another.

Yuck, I’m sorry you’re having to deal with all the pain.
I say stick with the 12-pound scale!
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That’s obviously my path of least resistance.
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