Improvements

After 2 1/2 months of XMRV treatment, I definitely feel better.  My need for rest has diminished quite a bit.  I still force myself to lie down twice a day, but I'm often antsy and peeking at the clock around the 20-minute marker.  I am sleeping less.  I don't seem to require 10 hours of sleep in order to feel good.  Often, I will wake at 6 am after 7-8 hours sleep, and I'll be unable to doze again. 

I feel uplifted, happy, almost exhilarated.  I find myself smiling a lot more.  It's like a weight, a fog has lifted from me.

I still have to be careful with activity.  I shopped WalMart the week before Easter.  It was way too big an outing for me; I should have started with something small, like a trip to the corner grocery store.  But I find that I'm chomping at the bit, eager to push the envelope just a little bit to see what happens.  Did I crash?  Um, yes, yes I did.  It was a big one, but it only lasted one day.  A crash like that would have normally taken me at least a week to recover from, if I indeed ever fully recovered.

I'm doing more around the house.  Not that much more, but noticeably.  It's interesting how I had unconsciously been conserving energy, calculating the most energy-efficient way to do anything.  I watched my husband put on his shoes one morning.  He picked one up, untied it, set it down, did the same with the other shoe.  Then he picked up the first shoe, put it on, and put on the other shoe.  I was amazed that he didn't realize that he was wasting so much energy by putting the shoe down and picking it up again.  I never would have done that!  Likewise, I always made a beeline for the nearest chair whenever I entered the room.  If the phone rang, I'd wait until one of the children handed it to me.

Yet, twice this week -- twice! -- I found myself pacing while talking on the phone.

The other thing that I've noticed is that I am tolerating social interactions much better. I've been out to dinner with my husband twice without any negative repercussions.  My sister-in-law dropped by and stayed a couple of hours.  I was exhausted, but it didn't cause a crash.  I can handle a drop-in visitor for about an hour now.  Talking on the phone is still challenging; I'm good for about 45 minutes of that.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying creative pursuits with my writing, and I've started using essential oils for symptom relief.  I haven't been using them long enough to report anything, but so far I've found a couple that seem promising for pain and stomach problems.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms out there! 

XMRV Treatment: Month Two

So sorry I haven't posted lately.  I've been occupied by my writing (imagine that, focusing on real life and not my illness).  In particular, I've been participating in the A to Z blog challenge for the month of April on my writing blog.  It's been a lot of fun, but I find that it takes a lot out of me.

After two months of treatment, I asked my husband if he could see any differences at all.  He said there are hints.  I agree.

I notice that I am having more good days.  By good days, I mean that I feel lighter, happier, in a good mood, like a fog has lifted from me.  I have a little more energy, and I tend to do a little bit more spontaneously -- things like wash my sink, clear the table, empty another box (still haven't finished unpacking!).  It's not a big difference in my activity level, but it's definitely noticeable.

Unfortunately, that buzz of energy also keeps me up at night.  I have a hard time falling asleep, and when I do, it is filled with vivid dreams and wakings.  Which leaves me exhausted the next day, and it takes  several days to normalize again.  It's a cruel cycle.

Another thing that I've noticed is how horribly deconditioned I am after years of declining activity.  I can't help but feel that if I were in better shape, I'd be able to take advantage of my good days and do more with them.  It's a nasty catch-22.  If I push my activity level, I feel tired and crappy.  If I don't, I can't make any progress in my health. 

I've chosen to push myself a little bit.  I am doing gentle yoga in the mornings.  I've bought a pedometer.  I walk an average of merely 1,000 steps a day.  Before I got sick, it was around 8,000.  I try to walk just a little extra.  I'd like to get it up to an average of 2,000 steps a day.  For now, anything over 1,000 is a victory.

Many people have asked me what specific medications I am taking.  I don't feel like I can give that information right now.  It would be irresponsible.  I don't want to appear that I'm recommending this course of treatment for anyone.  I don't know if it works, and even if it does, I can't assume it will be right for everyone.  If you are as determined as I was that you would like to try antiretroviral treatment, then I recommend you do your homework, find which drugs target XMRV, and decide with your doctor which treatment is best for you.

Hopeful Signs

Two things: 

Yesterday I felt good -- all day long.

And today, I definitely notice less pain.

:)

It's Here!

The new medication finally arrived today...and I panicked!  After all my determination and tenacity, the moment of truth has arrived.  I am not ignorant of the risks involved.  And I find myself asking, Am I really that bad?  Do I really want to do this?

I mean, I've adjusted to my situation.  I've got so much help.  And things are better here; without the stairs, I'm finding that I'm bouncing back much more quickly.  Of course, "back" means just getting out of bed and able to take a shower.  I'm still housebound.  I still can't get out and visit with friends.  I still can't go to church.

It's time.  It's time to do this for me, to do this for my family, to do this for everyone out there suffering with no hope.  Maybe I can be a piece of the puzzle.  Maybe I can be a part of finding answers, answers that have been so elusive for so long -- long before I first became sick.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll get better.

Bumps In The Road

I like this picture, because even though the road is "bumpy," it looks like it's headed in the right direction.

I had my doctor's appointment yesterday.  He agreed to give me a one-month trial.  One month, and if there are any negative side effects, he's pulling the plug immediately.  One month, and he would like me to be very honest in my assessment of my symptoms at that point.  He was careful to make sure I shouldn't get my expectations up.  He emphasized that it was very possible that I will not see any improvement.

I was thrilled.  I feel like his approach is the safest and best I can hope for.  He is exercising every imaginable caution.  He is making sure that my health is top priority, and if he ever feels the risks of taking the medication are too great, he is going to stop the treatment.  I'm OK with that.  I left his office with a priceless piece of paper in my hands -- a prescription for hope.

Priceless?  Well, let me reword that.  It definitely comes with a price tag.  I found out that my insurance doesn't cover the medication, and that it would cost about $1200.  For one month.  I can't say I was surprised; I had already researched the drugs and knew it wouldn't be cheap.

So, I now have two options.  I can upgrade my insurance, which would increase my monthly premium.  I would still have a $750 pharmacy deductible that I would have to pay up front, and then the medication would be $60 a month.  Or, since I have no idea if I'll be able to continue taking the meds longer than a month, I could simply pay out of pocket now and wait and see.  I have an option for getting the medication cheaper, but it would require waiting about three weeks to get it. 

I'm leaning toward a combination of the two.  Pay out of pocket now, and then upgrade my insurance if it looks promising.  Upgrading my insurance is the better option if I add a second medication to my treatment.

Which all led to a meltdown this morning.  Why?  It's not just the financial stress this will place on us.  We've shouldered financial stress before, very successfully, I might add.  No, I can't help but wonder, is it worth it?  Which really means, am I worth it?

Ah, you think with time you overcome your teenage insecurities.  You accomplish things, you achieve things, you catch yourself feeling proud of yourself once in awhile.  And then something like this happens, and the old voices you have spent years silencing rise again to the surface.  The old voices telling me I'm worthless.

But what if I asked my children, "If you could have your mom back for just one day, how much would you pay?"  I think the answer would be more than a thousand dollars.  And if I asked my husband, "If there was the slimmest chance that you could ease your wife's suffering for just one day, how much would you pay?"  I imagine his answer would be close to a million.

Backlogged

So, I called VIP Dx to see how things were going with the testing.  For some reason, I was a little panicked since I hadn't heard anything from them.  I thought maybe they hadn't received my samples, or they got there too late, or they had been rejected for some reason.  I didn't want to drag the wait out longer than needed.

None of the above had occurred.  Instead, they're backlogged, and instead of four to five weeks, it will take six to eight weeks to find out the results.  Hey, I've waited over four years, what's another week or four, right?  At least I know that something is happening.

It made me think of all the activities that are backlogged in my life.  All the have to's and ought to's that are piling up because I just don't have the energy to get to them in a timely manner.  And then, all the way at the back of the line, so far back I can't see most of them, are my want to's.  Backlogged into oblivion. 

Maybe I should throw caution to the wind and escort one of those end-of-the-liners right up to the front of the line.  If I could only remember what they were.

Faith and Hope

Sunday is a time of reflecting and renewal for me.  I loved this message, and I thought I would share it to all who embrace their challenges with faith.

So True

"Hope is the feeling that the feeling you have isn't permanent." ~Jean Kerr

After the Storm

(ramblings)

Such pain in my heart today. I try so hard to endure it well, to hold onto hope, to find joy in the journey. Sometimes it just bubbles out of me. Of course this journey is difficult and painful. Giving in once in awhile doesn't negate my handling the situation with patience and grace. It's simply choosing not to deny the reality of the situation.

This is real suffering. That doesn't mean that there is not merit to it, that there isn't an abundance of joy. It's simply acknowledging that this sucks.

I think I started crying not because I realized that this sucks, but because I felt God acknowledging to my heart that this sucks. Yes, it is hard. Yes, I hurt. Yes, every moment of every day is a struggle. Yes, I want to be more. No. I can't.

Perhaps it's a reminder to be gentle. I can't beat myself up over what I cannot control. Pushing myself over little things is counterproductive, short term, not big picture. They are not as important as I am. Rom tries to remind me of that. Even with my limitations, he tells me, I am important to them. Now, my Father is telling me the same thing. I am important to Him.

I will take it easy today. I will be gentle. I will do one thing at a time. If I only do one thing, that is OK.

Inch by Inch

I think ... do I dare say it aloud? ... that I may be getting better! It's that ephemeral something that I can't quite put my finger on. I wouldn't say that my capacity has increased. It's just that, during the day I feel a little lighter, a little clearer, a little more present. My body is making more sense. When I've exerted myself, I feel worn out, and my rests are a little longer than usual. If I've had a quiet day, I don't feel like resting at all (see my last post!), and I have to force myself to stay in bed for half an hour. A few moments of activity aren't weighing me down for days; I actually feel like I'm bouncing back quicker.

Now, when I say bounce back, I mean back to my new normal. I'm still nowhere near where I was before the summer. However, I no longer feel like one of those rock climbers stuck on a cliff with nowhere to go, fearful that if I move I'll slide further down or even plummet to my death. I'm reaching, and I can see tiny handholds, and there is a slow, steady path ahead of me.

Past Fear and Frustration

I'm not happy with my many negative posts lately, but I understand where they are coming from.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. :)

Being Thankful

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

People's Health Blogger Awards

While 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!

Catharsis

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Quest

(on a side note -- I used to love Jonny Quest!)

I've decided that I am on a quest. Before chronic fatigue, I was not exactly a health nut, but I loved being healthy. I never felt better than when I was a young adult with a gym membership. My husband met and married me because of that hard body! (Yeah, maybe for a few other reasons, too. ;) Even once I started having babies and couldn't make it out of the house regularly, I still maintained a work out routine from home. Exercising just made me feel so good.

Needless to say, since chronic fatigue, my exercise routine fell to zero. I lost muscle, and my body fat percentages sky rocketed. I added some gentle yoga, but it was more for relaxation than anything else. It didn't seem to help my growing belly and bottom. In the back of my mind, there's this little voice that keeps telling me that no exercise at all just isn't right! It is unhealthy, and I'm afraid that if I stay here, I will be working against my body and hindering my recovery.

So, I am on a quest to find out how to exercise without triggering post-exertional malaise. I have some ideas -- it seems like prolonged aerobic activity is the culprit. Perhaps intermittent "spurts" of aerobic activity with rests in between to return the heart rate to normal would be tolerated. I actually tried this on Saturday at my mom's house. The kids were all swimming, and I was sitting in the shallow end taking it easy. Finally, I couldn't take it any more, so I swam a lap. Oh, such daring! I let my heart rate come back down, and then I did it again! I got at least five laps in that way. And I didn't crash that day, or the next. Maybe I'm onto something?

Disclaimer: I do have CFS, so my "experiments" are completely dependent on pacing and how I'm feeling day to day. Don't expect any "results" to magically appear any time soon!

Everything Has Its Price

My niece was married on Friday. I loaded all my kids into the van, and we made the 1 1/2 hour ride down to my mom's house for the reception. I thought it would help if I let my oldest daughter drive... it didn't! I visited with my sister whom I haven't seen in two and a half years. We laughed and had a wonderful time. After the reception, it was early enough that we could all go swimming. We ended up hours in the jacuzzi, and I just couldn't bear to tear myself away from the fun. Finally, it was late. My daughter was staying the night, so I ended up driving home myself, in the dark.

I thought I was taking it easy on Saturday -- just a little trip out to the grocery store for much needed food. The evening came, and I had to make a decision: do I go to see fireworks with my husband and kids, or do I get an early night and make it to church the next day? I chose to stay home.

Yesterday, I woke up, and there was just no way I could make it to church. I was aching all over, I was weak, I was emotional. Everything cried, "No way!" My husband took one look at me and suggested I stay home. "But I stayed home from fireworks so I could go!" I said. He told me, "Honey, it doesn't really work that way."

Oh, my wise man. I've learned that everything has its price when you have chronic fatigue. I thought I had the "system" down. I thought I could have my own "cap and trade" program and get away with it. I discovered two great flaws with that. First, I don't know the true cost of an activity until the aftermath actually hits me. Second, I follow my heart and jump into activities that end up really, really expensive.

Is it possible to really listen to your body? I'm still riding the roller coaster, and that can't help my recovery. I'm doing a lot of great things that I think can really make a difference to my health. But I'm always guessing at my limitations, and I am not getting it right. I sabotage myself, I think.

I know why. I hate the thought of life passing by without being able to live it. I know some things only happen once, and then they are gone. I don't want to regret this giant part of my life, especially if it drags on and on and on. I want to steal a slice of normalcy, even though this disease has decided it isn't supposed to be mine.

WOW! Could This Be Possible?

Dr. Kenny De Meirleir announced today that he has unlocked the mystery of ME/CFS.

http://www.prohealth.com/library/showarticle.cfm?libid=14579

Not only does he say he knows what causes it, but there will be a simple urine test available, most likely over the counter, for diagnosis. And then ... treatment? Cure? Is this possible?

ME/CFS Awareness: Hidden Blessings

Sometimes, it's so easy to see everything you are missing when you have CFS. So, in a rare moment of quiet contemplation, I came up with a few blessings I have now specifically because of CFS.

1. A clean slate. It is exactly the fact that I can't keep up with my old activities that I get to start over. Before CFS, was I doing things because I loved doing them? Because I "had" to? Because it was expected of me? Because it was habit? Because it was an escape? Now, my functional time is precious, and I have much more stringent requirements before an activity even makes the list! I am choosing to remake me.

2. Permission to say "no." There is no pressure to agree to do something that I'm asked to do. I have to be honest with myself. If it is not physically plausible, or if it crowds out something of greater value, I get to say "no!"

3. Less doing, more becoming. I like the word "becoming." It has no beginning, no end -- it's a process. With so many activities stripped away, I'm left so often alone with myself. Am I happy with what I see? What do I embrace? What do I want to change?

4. Discovering hidden strengths. Faith, strength, patience, courage. Some I knew I had; others have been a surprise. This is an amazing opportunity not only to recognize but to use those strengths.

5. Becoming creative. I've seen this in other people with CFS, too. Perhaps it's all that internalizing that taps into it; perhaps it's a need to express the upheaval of your life. Maybe it is even because you have to become creative just to enjoy life! Discovering my creativity is a fun process.

6. Ability to find joy in the tiniest things. I can't believe how much I missed before! Lying in bed, listening to my boys play together, hearing their giggles. Walking outside and feeling the sunshine on my face. Being nearly asleep, but waking when my husband reaches across and kisses me so tenderly. I never had time for these things before.

7. Relying on others. To someone who is proud and independent, this does not immediately seem a blessing! But to be on the receiving end of love and service is something that stays in your heart and is treasured forever.

8. Relying on the Lord. My strengths pale in face of this enormous challenge. I am all too aware of my weaknesses and failures. I can see the hand of the Lord comforting me, strengthening me, and making it up to the people I love when I can't be everything for them.

9. Learning, learning, learning! Emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, physically -- every day brings a new lesson, something I never knew before.

10. Gratitude deeper than I could have expected. For true friends, for good days, for knowledge and understanding, for small kindnesses, for my family, for my faith, and for a million things more.

Because I Believe

Another loss today ... surely this must be the last, because there doesn't seem much more to lose.

I awoke this morning to the sounds of my little ones searching the house for their Easter baskets (the Easter Bunny always hides them). I used to get up with them and watch them frantically search; this time, I lay in bed and listened. I could picture them in the kitchen when cabinet door after cabinet door slammed shut. I heard the garage door open and close. I could hear them rustling through the living room. I recognized a note of impatience and frustration as they found their brother or sister's basket but not their own. It was delightful to hear! I love such family traditions.

After baskets were found and breakfast was eaten with a rare dessert of chocolate, they scurried about getting ready for church. My girls put on their new Easter dresses and came into my room to prance in front of my full-length mirror. My boys came in to ask for help with their clip-on ties. It wasn't until they were ready to leave that they noticed I was still in bed. "Mom isn't going?" they asked, then came over and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

It wasn't until I heard the front door close and quiet fell around the house that the tears started coming. This was the first Easter that I wouldn't be sitting with my family during Easter services.

Something else this disease has taken from me. Something else I have finally let go of and surrendered to the disease. But, you know what? I know what my family will hear. It's the same story I've heard ever since I was a child. It's a story that is written on my heart. I know it, and more importantly, I believe it. I believe that Jesus Christ was resurrected, and I believe someday I will be, too. So even though today I lie in bed with a broken down body, I know that it is only temporary. Some day I'll be healthy and vibrant and complete, never to know pain or sickness again.

I can wait.

Is it Cancer -- Or Wishful Thinking?

Can undiagnosed skin cancer cause chronic fatigue? I've noticed I have several suspicious-looking moles. It's not surprising -- I've had palish skin since I was a child. I grew up in Southern California before sunscreen was heard of. As a teen, SPF 8 meant you were a wimp! Sun tanning oil was the rage. Every summer, I would get my traditional sunburn, which would then peel off and allow me to tan. I am a prime candidate for skin cancer!

So -- is it possible that I really don't have CFS at all, but instead skin cancer? Then, all it would take is getting rid of a few moles, maybe a little chemo (which they say is about as bad as CFS, anyway), and then voila! I'm all better!

Do we all have these fantasies? Is it denial?