Chronic Ama

 Hear me out here, we have a shower bucket.  Wait, that's not a fair place to start.  Let me rewind to February, the month that I usually start my garden. I've been gardening for about 4 years now and have gotten better at it over the years. (It honestly is great for quelling anxiety and getting my mind off whatever is bothering me at the moment!) This year, I planted more tomatoes, garlic, cilantro, basil, more red chiles, thyme, and some other shit that I can't even remember. You see, it's been a dry ass year and I've lost plenty of plant babies, including two of my coveted lavender starts, to the extreme heat that all us Arizonians should be used to by now. I got a little smart this year and made room on the patio for lots of things, but that wasn't enough. I was growing bored of trying to schedule what to water when and how to mourn the lost little green things and how to make a shade cloth impervious to the haboobs. (Not my boobs! Haboobs! Just google it al

 I guess I was meant to open Blogger today and see the blog my daughter left for me last April, at the beginning of the pandemic. I must have had a flare up at the time. It was probably stress about the world being on fire.  That actually is a great opener for why I'm back. It's been on my mind so much lately to keep blogging about being a chronically ill mother. Mom is a tough job in itself, but there are so many more variations when it comes the Chronically Ill Mom job. I'll just take things day by day here and see where we end up at.  I've been feeling down today because I got a migraine yesterday morning that started with pain in my neck. I think my nerves have regenerated rather quickly following the ablation I had done in April. My migraines had started 2021 with an intensity only matched by my uncontrolled fibromyalgia flares. I had cervical medial lateral nerve ablations done starting at C3 and then going up and down to burn off all the nerves that were the culp