tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87003502445408034902024-03-14T01:16:27.634-07:00Living the CFS LifeI have had CFS since 2006. It has taken me awhile to find acceptance of this debilitating disease. I've finally come to realize that life with CFS means less doing and more becoming. I'm rebuilding who I am and what my dreams are. I am living the CFS life.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-76703107442928439212010-02-20T07:48:00.000-08:002010-02-20T07:50:04.849-08:00I Won!All right, I'm not the only one, but still, it was fun to get the Sugar Doll award! Check out my post at the other <a href="http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-me-sugar-doll.html">Living The CFS Life blog.</a>Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-36456345504300273222010-02-15T09:41:00.000-08:002010-02-15T09:42:25.135-08:00Inch by InchNew post on my other blog: <a href="http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/">http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/</a>.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-9528518187198294692010-02-12T09:19:00.000-08:002010-02-12T09:20:42.622-08:00New PostI have a new post on my new blog: <a href="http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/">http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/</a>.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-64425565361092370642010-02-09T09:43:00.001-08:002010-02-09T09:43:55.776-08:00Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!I wanted to let you know that I'm consolidating all of my blogs under one account, so they are a little easier to manage. I imported this blog to <a href="http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/">http://living-the-cfs-life.blogspot.com/</a>. Notice the only difference in the address is that I added dashes between the words.<br /><br />I don't want to lose all my friends and followers, so I'll leave this blog up to redirect people to the new one. I hope you'll still come and visit me!Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-7502215395327491322010-02-04T10:21:00.000-08:002010-02-04T10:41:48.211-08:00Past Fear and Frustration<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S2sU5ZnhVrI/AAAAAAAAANU/njVjAkYNV_s/s1600-h/frustration.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 195px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S2sU5ZnhVrI/AAAAAAAAANU/njVjAkYNV_s/s200/frustration.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434460351714383538" border="0" /></a>I'm not happy with my many negative posts lately, but I understand where they are coming from.<br /><br />You see, I thought CFS and I had an understanding. I play by the rules most of the time. Then, if something big or important comes along, I cheat! There is a mild punishment afterward, where I am immediately contrite and rest up for a day or two. CFS forgives me, and I'm back to "normal" within the confines of the rules.<br /><br />And then CFS betrayed me. Or, perhaps it was the last straw. In any case, it stopped forgiving me, and left me sitting in the corner for a very, very long time. No amount of crying or whining has softened its heart and made it relent.<br /><br />Thanks to Renee's recent post, I am now coming to terms with the fact that I am in a relapse, not a crash. I don't know how long it is going to last. I just know that this is my new "normal," and it's time to adjust my life accordingly.<br /><br />If I look at it objectively, I can see what happened. Stress is the trigger for my disease. I can see how the unrelenting stress over the summer caused me to fall further down the slope. It terrified me, because I thought, what if I have another episode? What if I fall further? There isn't that much further to go. The next bout will send me to bed with severe CFS for sure.<br /><br />Well, if that happens, there will be people to take care of me and my family. It is what it is, right? But I can't let fear rob me of hope. I need to continue to tackle this disease the same way I always have, and trust that I will eventually see improvement. Inch by bloody inch, that is.<br /><br />So, I'm going to change my attitude! I will wake in the morning and force myself to physically smile. They say the physical act of smiling triggers endorphins. I could use some endorphins. I'm going to focus on gratitude, because I have so, so much to be grateful for! Of all the things that CFS has stripped me of, it has taken nothing from me of any real importance. I am loved. I am happy.<br /><br />Some good news: I don't have to work at all the next three weeks! That should allow me to stick to a routine and consistently stay within my energy envelope. It this experiment is successful, I may not have to go back to work at all. :)Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-51798645708632068282010-01-26T09:10:00.000-08:002010-01-26T09:35:50.824-08:00Yeah, That Was Humiliating<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S18jCEFoshI/AAAAAAAAANE/TQtilz7xSpo/s1600-h/mart-cart.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 154px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S18jCEFoshI/AAAAAAAAANE/TQtilz7xSpo/s320/mart-cart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431098193996198418" border="0" /></a>Since my health has deteriorated, my husband has been trying to convince me that I need to start using those motorized shopping carts you see at the store. I agree with him, of course -- my shopping trips are killing me, but using those carts would be like admitting that I'm ... disabled. It would be acknowledging that I'm not doing well and that perhaps I'm not getting better as quickly as I thought I would. Maybe I wouldn't exactly be giving up, but I would be giving in. But surely it would be helpful if I didn't have to walk up and down the aisles, right? Right?<br /><br />Um, wrong. Yesterday, I finally decided to give it a try. I took my 16 year old son with me to help. He had used the carts before due to an injured foot, so I asked him to show me how they work. I nearly crashed into several people right from the start. I kind of got the hang of it, and we went to the produce department. I sent him scampering in different directions to get the items I needed. I tried to wheel myself to items that were at eye level. It was clumsy and awkward.<br /><br />And yes, people stare! They stare a lot. Except they do it in a way that they think makes them look like they're not staring. They avert their gaze if you glance up at them. They become very interested in onions.<br /><br />I was flustered. I passed by items I needed, and then had to back up with that annoying garbage truck beep announcing to everyone that I didn't know what I was doing. I felt like I shouldn't stand up to reach for items on a top shelf, because then people would know aha! I was a fraud! I was a perfectly healthy individual who had no right to be zipping around in one of those things.<br /><br />I ended up missing a few things that were on my list because I just wanted to get out of there. The entire visit took quite a bit longer than my usual visits, because those things just don't go that fast! I've concluded that the stress from the experience was just as damaging as the exertion from walking the aisles.<br /><br />Lesson learned.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-15042223436015290832010-01-23T13:52:00.000-08:002010-01-23T13:59:38.570-08:00Getting My Feet WetWell, I said I was going to start taking my writing seriously, and so I've begun! On my writer's blog, I've posted the beginning of a new short story. I would love to have you check it out and give me your impressions -- did the opening effectively "hook" you, were my descriptions effective, did it leave you wanting to read more?<br /><br />Check it out at:<br /><br /><a href="http://shelli-proffitt-howells.blogspot.com/2010/01/calling-all-critics.html">http://shelli-proffitt-howells.blogspot.com/2010/01/calling-all-critics.html</a>Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-18794352681372490752010-01-22T10:02:00.000-08:002010-01-22T10:25:52.469-08:00Clueless<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S1npybMkHlI/AAAAAAAAAM8/6-C-msJ6PWQ/s1600-h/unknowing-lthumbs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S1npybMkHlI/AAAAAAAAAM8/6-C-msJ6PWQ/s200/unknowing-lthumbs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429627878275030610" border="0" /></a>I have been doing oxygen therapy for over three weeks now. Is it helping? I don't have a clue. I have had flu-like symptoms for almost two weeks -- persistent sore throat, sneezing, sinus pain, nausea. I know that's normal for most people with CFS, but it isn't typical for me. Sometimes I get a sore throat from overdoing it, but it's usually mild and only lasts a short while. Is this that hopeful worsening of conditions that indicates I'm actually getting better? "Die off," or something like that? Or did my kids pass on the actual flu to me, and I just can't get rid of it?<br /><br />I think clueless pretty much sums me up. I surf the internet incessantly, trying to know what is going on with me. I'm desperate for improvement. I'll try anything. And I do try everything. I take the right supplements. I follow the CFS rules. I convince myself I have a modicum of control. I believe if I just ... then I'll get better. Maybe not all the way better, like I once thought, but at least a little better, right? Right? No. I keep slipping, slipping, slipping, down this nasty slippery slope.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-2841759651646551672010-01-13T11:05:00.000-08:002010-01-13T12:32:45.869-08:00To A Healthy New Year<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S04Z_JPZrUI/AAAAAAAAAM0/mrO94ddBuCU/s1600-h/new+year.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 143px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S04Z_JPZrUI/AAAAAAAAAM0/mrO94ddBuCU/s200/new+year.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426303173630995778" border="0" /></a>I've discovered I don't do the official New Year's resolutions anymore. I don't like lists of things I "should" do. Instead, I find that I ruminate a few days, get a feel for the new year, and decide what is important to me. I've decided that my focus will be on two things.<br /><br />The first area of focus -- surprise, surprise -- is my health. I think back to the beginning of last year and realize how much I took for granted. I thought I could build up a bit of energy, then blow it all on some "big" event, and then rest up and rebound right back where I was before. It worked, too, for awhile. I was lulled into a false sense of security. Then, near the end of summer, I discovered that I wasn't rebounding anymore. I was in a sustained crash, and no amount of resting was making it better. This level of functioning became my new normal.<br /><br />With frightening reality, I realized that if I continued this pattern, I could easily push myself into severe CFS. I had been playing Russian roulette with my health. I had been taking one step forward, two steps back, and the next step could land me in bed for good. I have to change.<br /><br />My new approach is one step back, two steps forward. First, I didn't exercise at all during the months I was crashed. I thought it would help me recover. What I discovered is that I ended up in a lot more pain than I usually am. I recognize that exercising has a price, but I also know that for me it is indispensable. So, I've added light yoga and strength exercises to my daily routine. Yes, it takes up extra energy, but I need to make room for it.<br /><br />Second, I stopped cooking during my crash. Which meant I ate a bunch of crap for months -- frozen, canned, processed food. I'm sure it added to my overall poor sense of well-being. I'm back on track with preparing menus, buying healthy foods, and cooking when I'm up to it or enlisting my kids' help when I'm not.<br /><br />Third, I have drastically reduced my activities. I stopped going to church completely, although it broke my heart. No more book club. No more girls night out. No more school events. I rely more heavily on carpooling. I limit shopping to one day a week.<br /><br />Fourth, I've started a new protocol. I'm trying d-ribose and oxygen therapy. The d-ribose seems to have a positive but not miraculous effect. The jury is still out with the oxygen therapy. If it is doing what it is supposed to do, then I am ridding my body of detrimental viruses and bacteria, which would naturally trigger a healing crisis. In that case, I would expect to see positive results sometime around February. I'll post more information about this, if anyone is interested.<br /><br />My second area of focus is going to be my writing. I have dabbled with a novel since last year, but this is the year I am going to take it seriously. My goals are to finish my first draft of my novel and to become a published author. To that end, I have created a writing blog to chronicle my journey and to get some critical feedback. You are welcome to visit my new blog at <a style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);" href="http://shelli-proffitt-howells.blogspot.com/">http://shelli-proffitt-howells.blogspot.com/</a> . And, when I introduce my main character in a few days, I'd love for you to tell me what you think!<br /><br />I started this blog because I was tired of feeling so alone with this disease. I couldn't have imagined the friends I would discover through it. Thank you so much for your kindness and support. It surprises me that I care so much for people I've never met. I know you are all facing the same struggles I face. You are in my prayers as I wish all of you a happy, healthier new year!Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-51202823708720608762010-01-10T13:28:00.000-08:002010-01-10T13:52:06.567-08:00The AntidoteHope: v. to wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment; to look forward to with confidence and expectation; to expect and desire; n. a wish or desire accompanied by confident expectation of its fulfillment; something that is hoped for or desired; one that is a source of or reason to hope.<br /><br />Hope is a dangerous thing. It builds expectations. It shines the light on the past as a titillating promise of the future. It paints tomorrow in such lovely colors. And invariably, if you give it too much attention, it disappoints.<br /><br />I haven't given up hope. On the contrary, I honestly believe that I will see miracles, that researchers will find a cure, that I will someday be free from CFS. But, I think it is safest for me to keep hope tucked away in my back pocket -- always there, but never consciously acknowledged or relied upon.<br /><br />Love is the true antidote to despair. A note that says "I miss you." A gift left at the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S0pLYIJcraI/AAAAAAAAAMs/QANy2lLGxOg/s1600-h/love.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 188px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S0pLYIJcraI/AAAAAAAAAMs/QANy2lLGxOg/s200/love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425231578997239202" border="0" /></a>door. An unexpected visitor who can only stay a minute. Words of encouragement, reminding me I'm not alone. Little acts of kindness. Hugs and kisses and that spot right under my husband's arm where I fit perfectly as we watch TV on the couch. These are the things that calm my troubled heart, bring peace to my soul, and remind me that this life ... <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> life ... is worth living.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-12579840216814741032010-01-05T10:56:00.000-08:002010-01-05T11:12:28.214-08:00Despair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S0OL8ci9lVI/AAAAAAAAAMk/7YQJD1fwdL4/s1600-h/881097.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/S0OL8ci9lVI/AAAAAAAAAMk/7YQJD1fwdL4/s200/881097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423332246855456082" border="0" /></a>I don't give in to it often. Just once in awhile, there is a splinter, then a crack, finally a crashing down of the weight of the enormity of this disease. It catches me by surprise. I let myself cry, great wracking sobs if no one is around. It lasts about half an hour, I suppose.<br /><br />The funny thing is, it doesn't change anything. Just like hope, despair is impotent to change anything about the way I live my life. I still shower and make my bed. I do some yoga. I eat a healthy salad for lunch. I take my supplements and try a new protocol. I nag my son about homework. I go to bed at a reasonable hour.<br /><br />I do my best with what I've got, because really, is there any other way?<br /><br />Tomorrow is always a better day.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-35598001645957513202010-01-01T10:19:00.001-08:002010-01-02T09:42:55.222-08:00Congratulations!Congratulations to Treya, Sue, Alyson, and Laurel, who each were recognized by Wellsphere in their People's HealthBlogger Awards 2009! It is nice to see our community so well represented. For a full list of the winners, you can go to<br /><br /><a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/healthBloggerAwards.s?year=2009">People's HealthBlogger Awards 2009.</a>Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-20818198729230968652009-12-11T08:21:00.000-08:002009-12-11T08:28:02.990-08:00Cake Wrecks and Charitable Donations<a href="http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2009/12/catchin-spirit.html">The wonderful people at Cake Wrecks</a> are giving away $200 a day for the next two weeks to charity. Plus, they are asking their readers to donate just $1 to the charity of the day as well. They are asking people to leave comments to suggest where they should give their donations. I've left a comment asking them to donate to the Whittemore Peterson Institute. I thought others might want to leave a comment, too. This is a wonderful opportunity to help people become aware of the great strides being made in CFS research and to hurry along the research that could ultimately lead to a cure.<br /><br /><a href="http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2009/12/catchin-spirit.html">http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2009/12/catchin-spirit.html</a>Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-5189892528015920862009-12-07T10:58:00.000-08:002009-12-07T11:30:43.535-08:00My Support Sytem: Are You In or Out?You are not in my support system just because you love me.<br /><br />I've noticed that the people who love me fall into three general categories. (I'm very left-brained. I categorize.)<br /><br />First, there are the people who believe I am sick but think I'll get better. These are the ones who approach me with the worried furrowed brow, pat me on the shoulder, and ask with pity, "How are you doing today?"<br /><br />Second, there are the people who believe my illness is psychological. They think that if they pretend nothing is wrong with me, I'll eventually catch on and agree with them. They are the falsely cheerful, "Hey! It's good to see you! I'm glad you're out doing something! You look great! ... ! ... !"<br /><br />Third, there is the rare and amazing gem -- the person who understands. They believe I am sick with a real disease. They recognize that it is called "chronic" for a reason. They accept that it's not going away. They realize that I now have limitations and need to alter my activities and the way I live. They embrace my new normal and find a place within it.<br /><br />These rare gems are my support system. My husband is my greatest and most reliable support. Because of him, it doesn't matter how small the rest of my support system is. Without him, I would certainly become depressed, go to bed, curl up in a ball, and stop living.<br /><br />I don't want anyone to think I'm pointing the finger at them. If you're not in my support system, it is my fault. I've discovered I'm not very good at communicating this disease to other people. I've seen so many puzzled looks when I've tried!<br /><br />So, if you want to join my support system -- follow my lead. If I am with you, it is because I am well enough to be there. Embrace the moment and enjoy it for what it is. Make me feel normal, like the same person you've always loved, but lower your expectations and be flexible. Notice if I seem to start to "fade," and make it easy for me to leave or take a rest without feeling awkward. Don't expect me to be too reciprocal. And don't forget me.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-59224511792553346082009-11-27T09:53:00.000-08:002009-11-27T10:21:18.666-08:00Being Thankful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SxASb7DgnyI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_wm2yWHsD1Y/s1600/give_thanks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SxASb7DgnyI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_wm2yWHsD1Y/s320/give_thanks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408843423390146338" border="0" /></a>Well, I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm afraid I've been in survivor mode lately, curled up in a figurative (and sometimes literal) fetal position. But I couldn't let Thanksgiving pass without a comment!<br /><br />I love the fact that Thanksgiving comes before Christmas. Pondering the many things I'm grateful for puts me in the right frame of mind to enjoy the true spirit of Christmas. You may think that CFS has made it a little more difficult for me to be thankful, but it's really not true. If anything, it has made it easier.<br /><br />CFS has given me many small blessings and one great gift. I have, throughout my life, had great burdens that I carry. Because of my faith, I do not fear death -- in fact, I have often yearned for it. I've thought how wonderful it would be to leave behind the pain and suffering of this life and return home to my Father and my Savior. At times, the only thing that has kept me here is the feeling of six pairs of small hands and one pair of large, gentle hands holding onto me like many balls and chains. Oh, I've wanted to go! But what would happen to them? I've begrudgingly stayed. <br /><br />The onset of CFS has taken life away from me, little by little. And I've come to realize -- how could I have taken so much for granted? Every little morsel I can enjoy now is so sweet to me. There are a million tiny moments full of life that I never paid attention to before. A hug from my tween, a kiss on the top of my head from my big boy, cuddling on the couch with my husband, stepping outside to a warm, clear, star-filled night, waking up to blue skies and warmth, a thank you from my big girl at college, my boys climbing into bed with me, the little ways they all try to make life easier, better, happier for me.<br /><br />I believe that this will someday be over. One day, I will no longer have CFS. I'll be able to engage more in life and her bountiful activities. I will be careful in what I choose to do with my precious energy. I will not waste it on things that do not bring me joy. I will not clutter my life with the unimportant. I will savor the moments. I will stay as long as God allows, and when He finally calls me home, I will leave this life with one last, fond glance over my shoulder at this beautiful adventure.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-68004116338240687092009-10-27T10:04:00.000-07:002009-10-27T10:10:33.192-07:00People's Health Blogger AwardsWhile visiting Sue's blog today, I noticed that she is up for a People's Health Blogger Award. I decided to vote for her, and I am putting a "Vote for Sue" widget on my sidebar. Sue's blog is one of the first I found when I discovered I had CFS and started blogging about it. I was so new and lacking in knowledge when it comes to this disease! Sue was always there to open my eyes and show me different paths to understanding just what was going on with me. It was from her that I learned about post-exertional malaise, orthostatic intolerance, and LDN. And she seemed a "success" story. Even though she still has CFS, she seems to manage it so well, and she still has a life! That is what I aspire to. So, in a way, I would say Sue has been my CFS mentor, and she has become a very understanding friend. I wish her the best of luck!Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-50323553188225675612009-10-20T11:01:00.000-07:002009-10-20T11:23:48.848-07:00The Fear<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/St37If5-oQI/AAAAAAAAAMM/lqZnx3U1I1A/s1600-h/fear.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/St37If5-oQI/AAAAAAAAAMM/lqZnx3U1I1A/s200/fear.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394744052081926402" border="0" /></a>I've thought about this ever since <a href="http://jen-mecfs.blogspot.com/">I watched Laurel's video on Treya's blog</a>. One thing the stories about those severely affected by CFS seem to have in common is that they were moderate to begin with, but they pushed too hard and ended up in a severe crash they never came out of. I can't help but wonder -- is this the slippery slope I'm destined to head down as well?<br /><br />For awhile, it seemed like my CFS had stabilized. I was functioning at about 50%. I knew what my limits were, and I largely stayed within them. Sure, I cheated once in awhile, but I rested up after and rebounded rather quickly. It made me feel like I was "getting better." <br /><br />August pushed me way beyond my limits, and I fell to about 30%. I followed my recuperative routine. I added extra rests. I put further restrictions on my activities. I cut back on my nearly non-existent exercise. I learned and regularly practiced deep breathing and meditative exercises. And I haven't budged. Like Sue said in her blog today, I wonder if this is my new "normal." <br /><br />It's funny how we grasp around, trying to convince ourselves that we have some control over this disease. I take a gazillion supplements without any evidence that a single one does any good. I pace, I rest, I modify my diet, I destress. I've become a ghost of who I used to be. And I tip-toe around thinking that if I don't disturb it, CFS will somehow leave me alone.<br /><br />Well, I'm still a wife and still a mother of six and still co-owner of a struggling business. I am at the mercy of LIFE. Will the next blow be the one that does me in?Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-13926487615248029012009-10-11T11:56:00.000-07:002009-10-11T12:19:48.903-07:00Hanging on to Dear Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/StIqd044R7I/AAAAAAAAAME/l2JZvxSN20A/s1600-h/crack+whip.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/StIqd044R7I/AAAAAAAAAME/l2JZvxSN20A/s320/crack+whip.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391418395817691058" border="0" /></a>Do you remember that children's game, Crack the Whip? You all hold hands, and the leader runs around, pulling everyone along. It's quite fun, unless you're the one at the end of the line. I feel like life is playing Crack the Whip with me, and I'm just trying to hold on!<br /><br />I did something crazy this year. I signed my two younger boys up for soccer. In my defense, I signed them up in May, when I was feeling relatively well and expected to be feeling better by September. I didn't realize I'd be having a downturn in August that wouldn't relent for quite some time.<br /><br />So, now here we are -- my boys have soccer practice Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons. We have games on Saturday. Can I just tell you how much they love it? My youngest son had never played before. He was so nervous his first day of practice! By the end of the hour, his eyes were shining and he told me, "I love it!" He is ready for practice half an hour before we have to leave. He asks me, "Is it time to go yet?" every five minutes. My older son isn't as fond of practice (because you have to run). But he loves playing in the games! He scored his first goal yesterday, and he was so proud! He is quite a natural at it -- he isn't intimidated at all, he has a good sense of the field, and he has some pretty good moves.<br /><br />How could I not give them this little piece of normal childhood? Yes, it's killing me, and I don't have time for anything else (shopping? cooking? cleaning? bah, who need's them!), but I had to do it. I just had to.<br /><br />I'm still working Tuesdays. My husband and I both wish I didn't have to, but there are no alternatives in sight. My husband, wonderful man, has taken on so much to ease my burdens, he is at near breaking point. If he worked my day, too, that would mean six days at work a week, plus the extra duties at home. We can't afford to hire someone else, especially when the people we've tried in the past have been so ineffective.<br /><br />My oldest son was in a bike accident a couple of weeks ago. The front wheel of his bike came off, and he hit the street at relatively high speed with his face. He suffered lacerations, abrasions, a broken tooth, and a broken nose. Luckily, he was wearing sunglasses, because they were destroyed but saved him from damaging his eyes. My husband was at jury duty and I was at work the day it happened. Of course, I closed down the store and spent the day with my son in the emergency room. He looked so terrible -- we jokingly called him a zombie. I thought I was holding up pretty well for him. But, when my husband finally got back and relieved me at the hospital, I broke down completely sitting in my car in the parking lot. Boys! If they don't kill themselves, they'll kill their mothers.<br /><br />I tried to go to church today, even though I knew I wasn't up to it. I love the feeling I have when I'm at church. I stopped to talk with a friend, and half way through our conversation, I was crying (I'm an emotional wreck on my bad days!). I stayed for about 15 minutes, just enough time to take the sacrament. While I was there, I saw familiar faces and the familiar routine of people going about, serving, teaching their classes, taking children to the bathroom, etc. Oh, how I miss it! I ache. <br /><br />So, I'm just hanging on right now. Barely hanging on.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-80009257517005589772009-09-17T20:03:00.000-07:002009-09-17T20:28:31.859-07:00Visible IllnessWell. I've decided to come out of hiding. I am going to post an actual picture of myself for my profile picture.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL5bRY5-oI/AAAAAAAAAK8/atufBaxgEGo/s1600-h/shelli+and+rom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL5bRY5-oI/AAAAAAAAAK8/atufBaxgEGo/s320/shelli+and+rom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382638751580813954" border="0" /></a><br />First of all, this is the picture I chose for my Facebook profile -- I think it's a good idea to show that I am a happily married woman on a social networking site, don't you think?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL6WLLcGaI/AAAAAAAAALM/NfVyRHNAAIA/s1600-h/June10+007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL6WLLcGaI/AAAAAAAAALM/NfVyRHNAAIA/s200/June10+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382639763525999010" border="0" /></a><br />Second, this is the picture I chose for my family blog. I think it shows my joie de vivre, kind of fun and sassy, like me. I really do love my family and my life.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Finally, in spite of protests from my vanity, this is the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL8F042ViI/AAAAAAAAALc/G60c1wt39WA/s1600-h/September+9+039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SrL8F042ViI/AAAAAAAAALc/G60c1wt39WA/s320/September+9+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382641681687795234" border="0" /></a> picture I am choosing for my CFS blog profile:<br /><br /><br /><br />The reason I chose this picture is because CFS is not an invisible illness. It is visible in the dark circles and lines that cover my face. It is visible in my furrowed brow when I'm in pain. It is visible in my hunched shoulders. It is visible in my gait and pace when I walk. It is not an invisible illness.<br /><br />I have a few theories on why people don't see my illness. First, I think that many people are too caught up in their own "invisible illness" to notice my pain and suffering. Life weighs heavily upon all of us from time to time. It is difficult, and sometimes frankly impossible, to notice others' pain when our burdens are overwhelming and hard to bear.<br /><br />Second, I think that many people just can't stand the thought of a friend or loved one having to go through this ordeal. It is scary to think that I will never get better. I've dealt with this kind of denial. To not have "me" back again? Ever? Surely, that is not something I embraced easily. How can I expect the people I love to believe it? No, I forgive them for holding on to the belief that this has to be something else, something the doctors missed, something that can be cured.<br /><br />Finally, I think that there are just some people who won't see because then it would prove them wrong. They would be forced to look in the mirror and see someone who judges harshly, who believes the worst in people. They would see dark holes where their compassion and humanity should be. It would be an ugly image staring back at them. I pity these people most of all.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-172341132726432822009-09-08T11:43:00.001-07:002009-09-08T11:53:51.261-07:00Good News<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/Sqal7q1rwLI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PQe-aSwxQFQ/s1600-h/Good-News.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/Sqal7q1rwLI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PQe-aSwxQFQ/s320/Good-News.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379169249470955698" border="0" /></a>A couple of good news tidbits:<br /><br />First, I finished the September issue of my Fatigue Busters newsletter and sent it out! That had been hanging over my head for a week.<br /><br />Second, I am feeling infinitesimally better! I have to warn myself that I am not back to baseline yet, so I need to ease into it gently. I have these bursts of energy and just want to DO something!<br /><br />Third, my blog AND my website have both been listed on Worldwide Association for ME/CFS Awareness and Research (WAMCARE)'s website!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.wamcare.org/websites.html">http://www.wamcare.org/websites.html</a><br /><a href="http://www.wamcare.org/bloggers.html">http://www.wamcare.org/bloggers.html</a><br /><br />Many of you are listed on the bloggers list, as well! Congratulations!Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-43728895585861701942009-09-02T13:50:00.000-07:002009-09-02T16:39:45.273-07:00Catharsis<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/Sp7aykRqBII/AAAAAAAAAKk/sI1nsdxW7rY/s1600-h/water+over+dam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/Sp7aykRqBII/AAAAAAAAAKk/sI1nsdxW7rY/s320/water+over+dam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376975567392998530" border="0" /></a>Ah, as you all know, I have been in the middle of a nasty crash for some time now. It has, quite frankly, scared me. I had been used to bouncing back rather easily from stress-related and exertion-related mini crashes. I expected the same from this one... but it didn't exactly go that way. So, relying on many of your own experiences and suggestions, today I did a little personal exploring.<br /><br />I sat down to write about my current stresses to confront the emotions surrounding them. There are several swirling around my psyche these days -- back to school, soccer for the boys, a new school for my struggling son, the economy and our new business, a messy house. But as soon as I started writing, the only thing that my pen would allow to find its way to paper was my daughter who is now off to college.<br /><br />I am happy for her. I am proud of the young lady I have raised. I feel she is ready for this next step in her life. I know she will excel. I know she is in a good place. I am excited to see where she takes this adventure and who she chooses to become. I love her so much.<br /><br />Then, the image that came to my mind was not my teenager who just left home, but my baby as I first held her in my arms. I thought about our special relationship as she grew to be a toddler. I remember our wonderful friendship and how everything about her was delightful to me. I loved being a mom! I caught myself thinking, "I've never been happier than during those early days of motherhood."<br /><br />I broadened the picture in my mind and thought about what was going on in my life back then, and I realized it was not an easy time for me. It wasn't the bliss I was painting it to be. I, like many others with CFS, had been abused as a child. Having a child of my own brought up suppressed emotions, and I began dealing with the issue for the first time ever. It was beyond painful -- it was excruciating. There were times when I thought I would lose myself in the pain of it all and just stop being. My husband was remarkable, loving, and supportive ... but it was in the love of my little girl that I found solace and relief. Holding her, loving her, having her love me back unconditionally -- it gave me a reason to live when I really didn't want to anymore.<br /><br />I realize how much I have relied on her over the years. When I went through a horrible depression, she took on extra responsibilities to help around the house, even though she was only 8 years old. She has always been able to reason with her brothers and sisters to restore peace in our home. She treated her brothers and sisters like friends, inviting the younger girls into her room for "sleep overs" and including her younger brother in her own circle of friends. Since I've had CFS, she has helped rally the kids to do their chores when I was too exhausted to nag any longer, and she has run numerous errands for me in her car.<br /><br />I realized that my reaction to her leaving home hasn't been fear for her, but rather fear for me. Even though I am years into the healing process, it terrifies me to think that IT might rear its ugly head again, and she won't be here. It feels like someone took away my security blanket in the middle of the night while I'm still afraid of the dark.<br /><br />I'm not that little girl anymore. I'm a grown up, and grown ups don't need their children to take care of them (at least for another 30 years or more, I hope!). It's time to start using my adult coping skills and let my girl go.<br /><br />As I write, there is a storm brewing outside. A fierce wind is blowing leaves and debris into the roads, and the temperature has dipped 20 degrees. Instead of smelling the smoke from the recent fires, I smell the fragrance from the flowers in my yard that have been disturbed by the upheaval and dust mixed with a trace of moisture. The clouds are dark and enigmatic, moving closer. There's a crackle on the radio that tells me lightning has started nearby, and I hear distant thunder. I love this weather! It sweeps away the heavy 100+ degree F days that have been lingering too long. Everything is fresh and new. It mirrors my soul.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-29503503900221862692009-08-26T12:07:00.000-07:002009-08-26T12:25:20.757-07:00Adrenaline Junkie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SpWIXm0XvnI/AAAAAAAAAKc/PgFUVTqGC7E/s1600-h/adrenaline.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SpWIXm0XvnI/AAAAAAAAAKc/PgFUVTqGC7E/s320/adrenaline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374351669475130994" border="0" /></a>I think I thrive on stress. Not the normal background soundtrack to my life kind of stress, but the in the moment kind of stress. Like when I speak in front of a large group of people, or I race to complete a deadline, or I handle a crisis fairly well. It's almost like I feel high for an hour or two after!<br /><br />And then I crash. Muscle fatigue, extreme exhaustion, brain fog, headaches -- you're all familiar with it.<br /><br />I think I've been cycling in and out of it for weeks now. I wake up in the morning, and I'm hit with the worries of the day, sending a rush of adrenaline through me that won't let me doze anymore. I scurry around getting the kids off to school, and then when it quiets, I rest. The rest brings on a crash, and I can barely get out of it! Yesterday, I actually had to sit down in the shower (I'm usually higher functioning than that). I called my husband and started crying before he even said hello. Not good.<br /><br />Then it's time to pick up the kids and shuttle them to various activities, and I'm living on adrenaline again. We get home in the evening, and I have to ask one of my teens to put chicken nuggets in the oven for me. I try to interact and help the kids get their homework done or get ready for the next day, but all I can manage is a little half-hearted nagging. By the time bed comes, I collapse.<br /><br />It is finally dawning on me that perhaps adrenal fatigue is a part of my CFS! (Duh.) Does anyone have a way of breaking out of the stress cycle? Is there a way to "talk yourself down" from an adrenaline high? I'm interested in opinions and ideas!Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-84784399517083313592009-08-20T11:28:00.000-07:002009-08-20T11:54:16.319-07:00Making Connections<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/So2WawWCbQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/EWF_X3sBUmM/s1600-h/connect+dots.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/So2WawWCbQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/EWF_X3sBUmM/s320/connect+dots.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372115316920970498" border="0" /></a>Today I've had my own "Aha" moment.<br /><br />I woke up feeling surprisingly well. I looked in the mirror, and I didn't see a zombie looking back at me. I was feeling restless during my first rest this morning. I felt ... better!<br /><br />What made all the difference in the world? My oldest son (15 yo) had been on vacation with another family for 3 weeks, and he just got home yesterday.<br /><br />Being a busy mom of five other kids, I didn't even notice how much I was worrying about him! He didn't have phone service or internet access most of the trip. He was able to text his sister a couple of times, and when he did, he sounded homesick. This was supposed to be a great adventure vacation -- crossing the US, visiting the Mall of America, Mount Rushmore, LDS church history sites, the Grand Tetons, Yellowstone Park, and more. There was mountain biking and hiking and camping and river rafting. It was the chance of a lifetime! He had a great time, but missing us all put a damper on the trip. And the whole time, I worried.<br /><br />So, he got home yesterday, while I was working at the store. He spent the entire afternoon with his father, getting our truck fixed. They had a fun time entertaining an 81 year old homeless man while they waited for the truck. Then, he took off with his sister and their best friend and did "stuff" for awhile. After work, my husband took me out to dinner, like he always does, and then my son joined us!<br /><br />He was so cute! He ran through the restaurant, jumped up onto the bench in the booth, and gave me a huge hug! He kept us laughing as he shared all his stories from the last few weeks. It was a wonderful dinner, and I was so happy to have him home. He took off with his friends after dinner, but came into our room before bed and chatted some more until after midnight.<br /><br />His favorite sarcastic remark before his vacation was "I hate this family!" He has sworn to NEVER say it again, lol!<br /><br />My next big stress is sending my oldest daughter off to college on Sunday. I hope I'm not a wreck like I was with my son. I don't <i>think</i> I will be. She is ready, I know. She is such a smart girl, and she has a super fun personality. She is absolutely darling, so I'm sure there will be plenty of boys to show her some interest. I know she'll excel in her classes, because she has the skills to do so. I feel like this is going to be such an amazing growing experience for her.<br /><br />I've spent so many years making room in our family and in my heart for each new baby. I wonder what I'll do now that I'm beginning to send them off? I wonder how our family will deal with shrinking, not expanding. Anyone have any good stress remedies?Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-32438706605899390382009-08-15T12:05:00.000-07:002009-08-15T12:17:04.611-07:00Rebel, Rebel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SocHL9wFuSI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/8czKjkBVL4M/s1600-h/last+act.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 197px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SocHL9wFuSI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/8czKjkBVL4M/s320/last+act.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370268982798825762" border="0" /></a>I know I'm dating myself here, but this was a really popular T-shirt back when I was a teen. I am relating to this little mouse today.<br /><br />I had seen so much progress, I grew cocky. I was so busy planning my recovery and the many wonderful things I was going to slowly introduce back into my life that I didn't notice the creeping crash. My body warned me, it certainly did. I <i>knew</i> that I couldn't continue to cheat CFS like I was and get away with it. I had been lulled into a sense of security because I had rebounded so well following a few other periods of high activity. I thought I would be fine if I just took it easy again for awhile.<br /><br />So, after a serious CFS beat down and tears of defeat in my husband's arms, I am humbled. I am done rebelling. I'm giving in. I am not going to fixate on the external factors that I can't change -- the responsibilities and stresses that are the nature of my life. Instead, I am going to focus on what I can change. I'm adding another rest period into my day, and I'm going to be more consistent with my yoga. I'll work on stress-reducing techniques. I'll remember how to say "no."<br /><br />It never gets easy admitting that you are ill.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8700350244540803490.post-58350351255750523072009-08-13T13:57:00.000-07:002009-08-13T14:16:35.912-07:00To Be, or Not To Be ...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SoR-5cYvhzI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/TGYAHGcAQE4/s1600-h/comedy-tragedy-mask.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nCsqbNcel88/SoR-5cYvhzI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/TGYAHGcAQE4/s320/comedy-tragedy-mask.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369556181070087986" border="0" /></a>I'm mad. Really, freaking mad. I know it is not uncommon for people with CFS to feel anger. I know it is one of the stages of grief, and we have, indeed suffered such a great loss. But I thought I was passed that. I didn't expect it to sneak up on me again.<br /><br />My husband and I were planning on taking the kids to see "Up" at our local theater this weekend. Today, he calls and tells me that we need to go tonight, because it looks like it will no longer be playing by this weekend.<br /><br />I worked yesterday. Also, my 7 year old son came into bed with us in the middle of the night last night because he was feeling sick and couldn't get to sleep. It took three hours of scratching his back, smoothing his forehead, chatting a little, and snuggling before he finally fell asleep. Today is supposed to be the day that I stay home, take it easy and recuperate.<br /><br />Do I go with my family, or let them go without me?<br /><br />So, I guess the question isn't really "To be, or not to be" (no need for suicide hotlines at this point, but thanks for the thought!), it is "To be, or not to be ... what?" What do I choose to be?<br /><br />Are you like me? Do you have this intuition that tells you exactly what you need to do to recover? I've put all the pieces in place -- proper sleep, proper nutrition, supplementation, rest periods. Pacing. I <i>know</i> that the only thing left for me to do is to <i>always</i> keep within my energy boundaries. No more boom-bust. No more push-crash. No more two steps forward, one (or two or three) steps back. I just need to always stay within my energy boundaries.<br /><br />What do I choose to be? An invalid, or a wife and mother and business owner? Do I really have a choice? I don't think so. I am a wife, a mother, and a business owner. So, becoming healthy again isn't really an option.<br /><br />And I'm mad.Shellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04533995997196611261noreply@blogger.com4