We have to laugh at Fibro Fog or we’d just cry. I remember when I realized that my life had become one giant game of password. My husband thought I was just playing around when I was asking about “that room with the bed where we sleep.” Yeah, I couldn’t remember the word bedroom, but I could completely get buzzed out of a game of password trying to describe it.
I asked my readers and a few of my blogger friends to share their Funny Fibro Stories and they didn’t hold back. Because we all need more smiles and joy in our lives, let’s laugh a little … at ourselves… and at our illness, because we can.
Yesterday was having coffee with my fiance…saw a truck drive by that i thought was HIS and waved…i was holding his hand unsure emoticon…talk about foggy… – MelanieClick To Tweet
Honey, Why’d You Throw Out the Peanut Butter?
One day I was trying to make a peanut butter sandwich. I got out the bread and then went looking in the pantry for the peanut butter. I could not find it anywhere so I spent fifteen minutes taking apart the whole pantry because I knew we had some. Finally I called my husband over and blamed him for accidentally throwing the peanut butter out. My husband then walked over the the counter and smugly picked up the jar of peanut butter that was sitting next to the sandwich bread. I had already gotten the peanut butter out and had no memory of it! Needless to say I will never live it down that I accused my husband when it was me the whole time. – Chronic Mom
Yesterday I submitted an online order for an early morning grocery delivery. I carefully reviewed it a couple of times before submitting, making sure I got what I needed within my budget.
Or, at least so I thought.
The warmer weather is starting and so is my appetite for salads. I like to make up fresh salads that will last for a few days as something I can munch on when I feel hungry. I eat small meals throughout the day and when I am alone, I don’t always like to cook much.
So, I made a Greek salad for hubby and potato primavera for me, a fruit salad for both of us and was just waiting for the main ingredient for our favourite broccoli salad to arrive this morning.
And here’s where our story lies.
I was looking at the bulk broccoli crowns and decided to get 3 for my salad. I went through the rest of the produce items and came to the packaged vegetables and greens. They had a large 900 g bag of broccoli flowerets on sale so I chose that. I vaguely remember thinking I needed to remove the spears but obviously, my brain was still somewhere in fibrospace!
So, when my favourite delivery person came to the door, he said he had some changes to the order. The blueberries were shorted and they were out of the large bags of broccoli so they gave me three small bags of the brand name for the same price. Things still didn’t process in my head.
Finally, as I started putting things away and I saw a sea of green in one bag it all started coming back. I had double ordered broccoli and the store gave me more of the bagged stuff than the original one so I now have over 2 kilos of “trees” and a short window in which to use them.
Well, at least I can laugh at it. In fact, it has kind of brightened my mood! But that’s the thing about fibro fog, it is with you so much that you have to find the humour in things or it can drag you down (literally and figuratively) very quickly. – From Lydia of BeingLydia.comClick To Tweet
What’s Her Face?
There are many funny stories I could tell about my fibro fog, but the best one is also the most embarrassing one.
We move around a lot, and when I say a lot, I mean 18 times in ten years. What can I say? We like new places, new faces, and new memories. It’s been fun, but keeping track of the people we meet is the most challenging to me. I have a tendency to forget various things like where I’ve placed my glasses (usually on my face), where I left my keys (check the fridge first), or where that gallon of milk is (in the pantry). Forgetting faces and the names of their owners is the biggest challenge.
The summer we spent in North Carolina, we lived in a quiet suburban community with some of the nicest neighbors we had had in a long time. Everyone was so friendly and eager to meet us. Every morning and afternoon at the bus stop, neighbors introduced themselves and carried light conversation. I met an author, fellow fibro thrivers, and other interesting people. It was my kind of community.
On one special occasion at my oldest daughter’s elementary school, I was the school photographer for the pumpkin decorating contest. There were various festivities such as coloring contests, vendors, cake walk, and even a haunted house. The school was crawling with kids and adults, and the air was full of excitement. It was the place to be that particular night.
Near the end of the evening, just as the winners of the pumpkin decorating contest were being announced, a lovely lady walked up to me and sparked a conversation. We talked and laughed together, but I didn’t know her name. So, like any other time I don’t know someone, I introduced myself. She looked shocked and confused, but after a small hesitation, she shook my extended hand and told me her name (I can’t remember it now).
Then she preceded to tell me that she had met me before – twice, actually. I darkened with embarrassment, gave a shaky laugh and apologized for not remembering. The situation from that moment on was very awkward for me. I didn’t know if I should tell her that I have an issue with remembering faces and names, or not. Deciding not to tell her the truth, I excused myself by saying I needed to take a photo of the winners and their pumpkins.
As we were walking to the car that evening, my husband was laughing as he told me how horrified I looked as I turned red talking to our neighbor. I told him what happened, and he felt bad for me. He said he remembered meeting her, but thought I had, too, because I was laughing and talking with her. Nope. Not a slither of remembering her face.
That was almost two years ago, and though I can’t forget that moment, I still can’t remember her face. Or her name. -Brandi, BeingFibroMomClick To Tweet
Now, it’s your turn! Do you have a Funny Fibro Story to share? Post it in the comments below, we’d love to read it. Let’s give ourselves a break. The fog will be there we may as well laugh at it.