Setting In

I slept restlessly and after waking from a night sweat I moved through the house and into the shower. My clothes felt like glue, my limbs were heavy and I'd dreamt of the wolves. They'd been fighting in the clearing just outside the bungalow. I shoved it from my mind.

Pulling the blind closed in the bathroom window I wondered where Embry was out there. Consumed by the darkness of the night.

Stripping of I pulled on the shower cap and opened the toiletry draw taking the aloe-vera face mask out. Gently I applied the mixture that was meant to help reduce inflammation of the face.

I was about to flick on the water when a small pounding noise entered my ears. Shuffling forward my feet turned white against the cold tiles as I inched back the door.

Embry stood before me in only a pair of shorts. His breath was haggard and his eyes were dropping closed. I stepped forward onto the warmer flooring and he moved back to give me space.

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a pointed look. Which was difficult to do really considering the lack of facial expression the mask was allowing for.

His eyes bored into mine and I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other my toes curling into the worn carpet as I begged for it to swallow me up.

"You shouldn't be here" I mumbled straining to scowl against the setting face mask that was tightening over my skin. It was supposed to help to reduce inflammation and was something Emily had suggested to get the last of the damage from my forehead.

He went to interrupt but I sharply cut him of unimpressed by his sudden appearance. "It's not fair, you shouldn't just wonder in here. I could have been doing anything!" I protested. The issue wasn't what I could off been doing, it was that I couldn't hear him entering the house, and it was something I couldn't bring myself to admit.

Shifting once more I backed up a little and scanned the room briefly for the aids but found them nowhere in sight which made me sigh out loud.

"Look you should just leave, please" I said rubbing my hand with my thumb.

"My Mum kicked me out" it was the first sentence he'd strung together and was pronounced perfectly. Each word was emphasised and said at just the right pace for me to understand.

I gulped and tried to push the lump in my throat away.

"Well then I suppose you better stay then" I whispered.

This time I turned fully and padded back into the bathroom. I slammed the door behind me and leant against its weak frame trying to steady my breathing.

I took my time in the bathroom standing under the shower and allowing the warm water to remove the face pack. Watching the green water pool at my feet I scrubbed at my face until I was to tried to lift my arms up any higher.

What was happening to my life?

The hospital appointment was set for first thing and I was reluctant to move from the bed. I'd had about two hours sleep so wasn't of on the best foot. Embry hadn't dared to speak to me again in the night and I was dressed and out the door before he'd even stirred.

Feeling the cold had always been something I'd lived with. I never thought that it could actually be something wrong with me. I mean being cold was just normal right? Well apparently not. It began three years ago. I was diagnosed with the first condition. Something I'd never heard of let alone understood. Raynauds that's what they called it brought on by stress they presumed.

What they didn't realise that it was actually the first sign of an underlying autoimmune condition.

When I get exposed to the cold or to stress, my blood vessels dilate. It means that circulation stops getting through properly to my hands and feet. When heat is applied and the vessels start to open back up it causes painful frobbing and colour changes.

It took little over three months for a range of other symptoms to manifest. The symptoms were broad and fluctuated, you wake almost always in pain, stiffness consumes every inch of you and exhaustion overwhelms you. Migraines come in waves and it's only made worse by deprived sleep. Your mood fluctuates, you cry too much, you complain too much, you hate yourself too much. Your life becomes pain.

Your Mum jokes they should have you a seat reserved up at the doctors surgery for you. You're there almost every week. Your life's a blur of blood tests, appointments, referrals, urine samples, weighing, blood pressure checks, therapies, and worsening symptoms.

The main points get ruled out it isn't Lupus, it isn't Rheumatoid Arthritis. Then they mention Fibromyalgia. Your rheumatologist only confirms it. After a year you are finally diagnosed.

A diagnosis.

It is meant to feel good right.

You should be feeling empowered.

You should feel happy.

You're onto the next chapter of your life.

The weight should have been lifted from your shoulders, but now you feel like it's finally just crushed you.

I don't think people ever really get it.

You lounge about and cry. You become a blubbering wreck. You don't cope with the diagnosis. You refuse to accept that they simply can't help you. A zombie like state returns and you are simply surviving. Life loses its pleasures, moments blur and days become unaccounted for. You're lost. Wondering, searching hopelessly for who you used to be.

You feel as if your head still hasn't broken the water. You are drowning, but no one can see it.

It rained all of the way to Forks. I had been referred directly from my GP back in England to the practice as apparently La Push minor injuries unit wasn't specialised enough. Charlie met me at the border of Forks and was frowning uncomfortably from the cop car.

"I would have picked you up kiddo" he explained as I lowered my soaked body into the car.

"Oh don't worry about it" I exclaimed. "You're doing more than enough as it is!"

"I promised your mother I'd take care of you" Charlie confessed. Which one?

I had spent most of my University fund on this trip and I loathed the cost of medical insurance. We arrived at the practice in minutes only to be able to unable to park. At nine o'clock the car park was swarming. Charlie circled around four times before managing to find a space. It was a long walk to the Rheumatology out-building and we arrived with minutes to spare.

Charlie looked sheepish and shifted around eyeing up the elderly people that lined the waiting area and breathing in the stench of chlorine from the hydrotherapy pool.

The receptionist looked hassled. She must have only been about ten minutes into her shift but she was sweating from the electric heaters and leafing through paper work with haste. I gazed about the notice-boards. All seemed sombre announcing what you should and shouldn't be doing. In bold black writing read 'All in attendance of an appointment should arrive at least fifteen minutes prior, any later and you risk not being seen'. Clearly they hadn't seen the car park then.

The woman turned sharply on a heeled foot and is out from behind the desk and up the corridor in the opposite direction before I can even book in. She returned with windswept hair and speckles of mud splashed onto her opaque stockings.

"Name" she asked not looking up from the computer screen.

"Imogene Morgan" I told her.

After a few seconds of ferocious typing she spoke again. "I trust you've brought your urine sample" she asked.

I widen my eyes in surprise.

"It didn't say on my letter that I needed to" I admitted and she stretched out her hand clicking her fingers impatiently for the letter.

I fumbled clumsily to place it in her hand and she scanned it and grumbled occasionally. I could feel Charlie's embarrassment and regretted not telling him to wait out in the car for me.

"Must have been a typing error" she shrugged and curled her lip and handing me the letter back. "Follow me".

I left Charlie lingering at the desk looking slightly dazed. The heels made her waddle somewhat as we entered the ward corridor she plucked out a pot. "Just put it in there once your done" she gestured towards a small side room and I nodded.

So I shuffled into the toilet and attempt to wee in a pot. Which was a disaster and caused a great deal of mess. It's harder than it sounds!

The next half an hour is consumed playing musical chairs around the clinic as we are moved ever closer towards the door of the Rheumatologist. Charlie began dozing after about ten minutes and I flicked carelessly through the health magazines failing to take any of it in.

Relief poured over me the moment I was called in. A thin looking woman stood in a pair of flats, a long sweeping skirt and button blouse across from me in the white consulting room. Her hair was scrapped back into a bun that seemed to give her a face lift at the same time it was that tight.

"So Imogene just to give me an idea, could you describe your general health to me?" she asked.

"Train wreck" I snorted and she suppressed a smile.

"That's an interesting choice of words" she commented raising her well groomed eyebrows.

"It's an interesting situation" I countered.

"Quite right" she praised. "It's certainly still challenging the medical world".

"Any other developments in symptoms" she queried.

"Well I've been finding in the morning my pain levels are getting heightened, it takes me a little longer to get moving about. It's the exhaustion that's become most debilitating. I mean some day's my body just feels like it's just cut out, someone's pulled the plug." I complained.

"Right, I read about the nausea on your notes, how has that been" she asked softly.

"It comes and goes. I know the medication is affecting my stomach lining. Sometimes it's just nausea, other days I can be physical sick and can't keep food down" I admitted.

"What about trigger foods, have you found any?" she queried and jotted down a few notes on a pad.

"Anything made of food" I snapped back irritated by the stupid question. I'd been through this all before.

"What about personal life?" she pressed.

"Moving here hasn't caused too much exertion, I mean mentally things are a little bit different, but I'm enjoying being away from the city." I answered truthfully.

"Mentally?" the Rheumatologists lips turning down slightly. "I've noticed you stopped your anti-depressant prescription about three months ago".

"You see that's the thing about this condition doctor. It goes away. It goes away, but it always comes back. Which is so mentally draining. You can try everything in the book, herbal remedies, exercise, medication, physiological talks, physiotherapy but it is always still there just under the surface. It's always waiting to come back. I'm never going to be cured. I'm never going to be fine. I'm never going to be able to cancel any other these appointments, because this, this condition its' here, it is a part of me and it's not going to go away. So I decided a long time ago that I may as well stop mopping about it, accept it, and get the hell over it because self-pity isn't going to change anything. Life, well life just goes on. You find a way to keep going." I disclosed.

"Have you found the mindset helps things?" she asked and I looked at her with confusion.

"What the pain?" I asked her and she nodded. "I guess. I push myself to do more, because it's changed my perspective on life. For me it's made me into a different person and I think after a while it starts to become normal. My main goal in life now is to be happy. I let go of a lot of baggage and crap that I've been carrying and I grew up which helped me to relieve some of the stress which was becoming a huge trigger. Stress was like handing me a loaded gun" I ranted.

"Right, let's get a physical examination going shall we" she stood up and motioned to behind the curtain.

I stood up stripped into my underwear and spent twenty minutes being poked, prodded and stretched. She kept scribbling notes down and pushing at the pressure points. A body map became consumed with notes and I struggled to depict her writing.

Charlie had likely fallen back to sleep. At least one of us was getting some.

The Rheumatologist had played about with my prescription dosages and tried me out on a new painkiller. I was given a slip to give to the receptionist for a referral to the Physiotherapy department and also to Orthotics them she dumped me into the queue for blood tests.

We'd been here for nearly three hours and I was ready for something to eat. Maybe I could treat Charlie to some lunch out?

"Next" cried a young looking nurse.

I stood up and moved into the room. I was already compressing both of my fingers trying to work up my veins. I was dehydrated. I hadn't drunk since I'd left the house and the heat in here didn't help.

The nurse grabbed at my left arm and pulled on a strap tightly, she jabbed in the needle. I didn't flinch. It had become the norm. I waited for the blood to flood the tube but it didn't. Charlie was cringing from the doorway and turning a nasty shade of green.

"I will try the other arm" she said scowling and pulling of the strap I nodded half-heartedly just wanting to get out of there.

She fumbled around and I felt the light sting on the needle and glanced down but still nothing. The nurse was mumbling to herself as she wiggled the needle around under my skin.

"Does it hurt?" she asked and I bit back the urge to scream at here that it very much so does. Instead I shrugged and blocked out the pain. "Have you had anything to drink?"

I curtly answered that I've been sat here for nearly three hours, so no; I haven't had chance for a drink.

"I will take the outside vein, it'll hurt more, let me know if you start to feel queasy" she announced sounding slightly unsure. It was close to my elbow and I looked doubtfully at it. I winced into the chair when she shoved the needle in. Ouch!

Five vials later, I've been butchered by the needle and allowed to leave.

I called Bella the moment we left the practice and left her a short voicemail telling her how I'd gotten on. We jogged back to the car trying to avoid the worse of the rain.

Charlie's presence however seemingly pointless had so much reassurance behind it that it made my heart swell with relief. Someone cared. He didn't understand, but he cared.

I egged on the water droplets as they raced down the car window. The Rheumatologist had been better than most. She'd actually let me speak which was a skill most of them dramatically lacked. Being back here churned it all up in my mind.

The truth is with these conditions is that they aren't really conditions. I've been told so many times that I can't allow for it to define me, that I'm not my condition. But I disagree, because after a while they do become a part of us. They become one of our quirks, a piece of our makeup and sometimes it's hard to accept the fact. But I like to think of it that rather having this horrible condition it's just a part of me. Sure it makes me a little different, but that's okay, because we are all different right?

I am just walking one of life's different paths. Now on this path it isn't straight, it's twisted and curved; there are a lot of hills. Gosh, there's so many you think you will never reach the top. But you do. You always do.

This path makes you happy, it makes you sad, it makes you smile and my God it makes you cry. But it's your path. It's the will of much greater forces and you don't let it beat you. Sure you sit down on the curb sometimes, sometimes you get stuck down there in the gutter but you always find a way to carry on. You have a path to walk.

The path isn't clear, you can't always see the way, you wish you could, you've tried to in the past. But you learn in the end you can't predict your path you just have to go with it. You meet some bad people on this path, okay you meet a lot of bad people. They stand there with their self-righteous nonsense telling you what to do but, you meet a lot of good people. They make it better; help you to forget the bad ones. They give you a stick to help you walk, some water, food, shelter from the rain, and trust me it rains a lot here. The sun always has a funny way of coming back to you though.

Often you wish for an easier path, however you end up accepting it and in the end you aren't going to let it beat you. You climb every mountain, you walk through every storm, crawl through every cave until you find the light. You will walk until it kills you. You will live a life as full, as beautiful and wonderful as any other, because you deserve no less and no more.

The diner was quite. Charlie had left me almost an hour ago and I could tell the waitress either wanted me to place a new order or leave. I was waiting the storm out though. The idea of another lukewarm cup of coffee didn't appeal to.

I'd called the number twice and hung up buckling under the pressure.

What did I have to worry about? It was just a job.

Pulling out the mobile Bella had given me I began to dial the number. The keys were worn and she'd found it in the back of her draw, already with a sim-card and a small amount of credit.

The fake leather seats in the retro dinner were uncomfortable and squelched every time I shifted to try and shake the pins and needles. Grease engulfed the air and the table was unnaturally sticky.

After five rings the phone was answered.

"Hello" chirped the woman at the other end.

"Hi, I'm Imogene I am phoning about the job advert" I explained fumbling with the empty coffee mug.

"Of course, of course" she said with excitement.

I could hear screaming in the background and she screeched a name, the line fell suddenly silent.

"Sorry about that, I've got my twins of school today and they're running wild!" she explained sounding out of breath.

I laughed softly. "I will be able to start immediately" I assured the woman who seemed to suddenly recall why I'd phoned.

"Yes that will be excellent, it'll be for my mother, she's not go out of the house much since her hip-operation. The dog is, well he's a bit of a handful" she explained delicately.

How bad could it be, I mean it was an old woman's dog. I expected it would be a Jack Russell or something "I'm sure I'll manage" I answered brightly.

"Of course, of course, well how about we say tomorrow afternoon?" she asked hopefully.

"Sounds good to me" I replied.

Scrambling around in my handbag I found a pad and paper and took the address.

Bring it on pooch.

Authors Note: Thank you to all my readers for the views on the story so far I appreciate it so much and hope you are enjoying the story. This chapter was quite personal and I hope it gave you an insight into the emotions and feelings you can have with a chronic pain condition.

A big thank you to Vanesabebe1 and Tumblingintowonderland for the favourite and follow on this story, it is very much appreciated! To my guest reviewer from Chapter 12: I'm glad you found it funny, thank you so much for the review :)