Posted in Fibro, Personal

Morgan Freeman and Fibromyalgia

I love this article and it’s been circulating a lot since Morgan Freeman went public with his condition. Ever since he has become the unofficial face of fibro and making people think twice about this hellish mystery of a disease.
I did not write the following article and the original article can be found here

A little over a year ago, Esquire magazine published an insightful article about Morgan Freeman. During a day spent with Freeman at his home in Mississippi, the author of the article Tom Chiarella recalls noticing Freeman was in pain, as they walked around his property Freeman revealed to him that he was a long time sufferer of fibromyalgia. Below is an excerpt from the original article.lgimage_18432
Every so often he grabs his left shoulder and winces. It hurts when he walks, when he sits still, when he rises from his couch, and when he missteps in a damp meadow. More than hurts. It seems a kind of agony, though he never mentions it. There are times when he cannot help but show this, the fallout from a car accident four years ago, in which the car he was driving flipped and rolled, leaving Freeman and a friend to be pulled from the car using the Jaws of Life. Despite surgery to repair nerve damage, he was stuck with a useless left hand. It is stiffly gripped by a compression glove most of the time to ensure that blood doesn’t pool there. It is a clamp, his pain, an icy shot up a relatively useless limb. He doesn’t like to show it, but there are times when he cannot help but lose himself to a world-ending grimace. It’s such a large gesture, so outside the general demeanor of the man, that it feels as if he’s acting.
“It’s the fibromyalgia,” he says when asked. “Up and down the arm. That’s where it gets so bad. Excruciating.” source.

– See more at:

I’m kinda glad this popped up on my facebook feed tonight. About an hour or so ago, I was crying. I was crying because I was standing up doing the dishes. I was crying because after I washed enough dishes for dinner, I then had to cook that dinner. I was crying because my youngest walked into the kitchen and with attitude asked ‘Aren’t you cooking yet?’ (he’s sick so I’m tried to let that slide and not kill him). I was crying because my oldest swore on a stack of bible’s that he would do the dishes (two days ago). I was crying just because I was done. I was tired, hurting and just done.

So many people question if fibro is real and I just don’t get why. I mean, I kinda do. You can’t see it, like you can see a cold, or a broken arm or cancer. All people see is a young woman with a handicap sticker shuffling around and I know they are wondering what could possibly be wrong with me. What they don’t see that my feet have doubled in size since I entered the store and I am dripping in sweat from pushing a shopping cart and there are tears in my eyes because now not only do I have to get whatever I brought into my car, I’ll have to take it out and put it away when I get home.

What they don’t see is that cleaning my house from top to bottom means that I will be out of commission for two to three days.

What they don’t see if that I am cringing on the inside because the music is too loud or the group of people I’m with are having fun being loud and crazy (as they should be) and bumping into me or squeezing me tight before I can ask them to be gentle and my anxiety is now through the roof.

No one sees that. Not even the kids I live with. And it’s so tiring. And that’s why I’m done, but only for tonight. For tomorrow, I am still going to be mom and I have a job to do so we can have a roof over our heads and food in our mouths. Tomorrow I still have to be the woman to do it all.



Lisa Arrington is a mother to two wonderful who has always had a passion for writing. Lisa attended a local technical college and received an associate degree in Computer Networking which she put right to use. Lisa currently lives in Southern Arizona with her two sons and when not writing she can be found curled up on her favorite chair with Kindle in hand, reviewing books for her blog, chauffeuring the boys around town for basketball games or playing Candy Crush Soda on her phone. She loves the color blue, can't get enough cherry cheesecake ice cream or Junior Mints and will forever be in a power-struggle over the big screen TV with her youngest child.

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