<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Rellacafa</title>
	<atom:link href="http://rellacafa.com/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://rellacafa.com</link>
	<description>Overcoming Chronic Pain</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Mon, 06 May 2013 00:20:27 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en-US</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=3.5.1</generator>
		<item>
		<title>My Great Tasmanian Getaway Part 4: The Ghosts of Port Arthur</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-4-the-ghosts-of-port-arthur/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-4-the-ghosts-of-port-arthur/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 May 2013 00:20:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2722</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, After time forced our holiday to come to an end, my Prince and I headed to the suburb north of Hobart where his job was. He went back to work and I proceeded to hang out around the hire house, like a boss. I read books, watched Supernatural (current addiction and fitting, because [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
After time forced our holiday to come to an end, my Prince and I headed to the suburb north of Hobart where his job was. He went back to work and I proceeded to hang out around the hire house, <em>like a boss</em>. I read books, watched Supernatural (current addiction and fitting, because it means that I now know everything there is to know about ghosts), went for occasional strolls around the neighbourhood and played The Walking Dead game on my iPad. It was kind of nice to be stuck in a different house for a change, this one had a much better view than the one that I live in!<br />
<br />
We did have one more holidaying adventure in us though, Sunday found us heading down to Port Arthur for a little check-it-out and a ghost tour.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2726" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Wide.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Wide.jpg" alt="Port Arthur Historical Site" width="450" height="338" class="size-full wp-image-2726" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Port Arthur Historical Site</p></div></center><br />
<br />
<em>My first ghost tour</em>. I was pretty pumped.<br />
<br />
A ghost tour probably sounds a bit morbid if you are only aware that Port Arthur was the site of the horrific shooting massacre that shocked Australia in 1996. No, I wasn’t searching for those unfortunate souls. I was searching for the older souls that died there in the 1800s when the site was a convict prison and colony.<br />
<br />
It’s totally appropriate to search for <em>those</em> ghosts, they’re <em>really old</em>. Or something. I don’t know, actually. I don’t know when it becomes appropriate to be fascinated by horrific things that happened to real people. I mean, it’s not out of disrespect to anybody’s suffering, it’s just that the fact that such awful things ever happened at all is deeply disturbing and interesting and I think we’re supposed to learn from them. Or something.<br />
<br />
Moral questioning aside, Port Arthur is a fascinating place. Some of our ancestors did some pretty terrible things there. Not mine though, as far as I know, my own ancestors spent history doing terrible things in Italy and France.<br />
<br />
Port Arthur was where they would send the really bad criminals, you know, the ones who did worse stuff than steal food for their starving families, or who stole more stuff than that other guy. Convicts who had the gall to reoffend after having already been shipped to Australia for their original crimes were considered super bad and many of them ended up at Port Arthur too.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2727" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Guard-Tower.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Guard-Tower.jpg" alt="Port Arthur Guard Tower" width="450" height="600" class="size-full wp-image-2727" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Port Arthur Guard Tower</p></div></center><br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2725" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Bird-In-The-Bars.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Bird-In-The-Bars.jpg" alt="Today&#039;s birds think the prison is actually a really cool place to live." width="450" height="600" class="size-full wp-image-2725" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Today&#8217;s birds think the prison is actually a really cool place to live.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
Port Arthur is located on the tip of an almost island (only a thin strip of land called a “neck” connects the almost island to the next piece of Tasmania) and the landscape there would have been pretty rough back in those days. Steep hills, thick bush and a bunch of scary little critters that would never have been seen before by convicts from the streets of England and Ireland, including those critters that people saw fit to name devils.<br />
<br />
The name is understandable, Tasmanian devils are pretty creepy. I mean, they do eat dead people, after all. Come to think of it, cows probably think humans are pretty creepy too. I tend to think that humans are a bit creepy sometimes and I’m not even a cow. I guess that “creepy” is relative. Maybe we were too harsh when naming Tasmanian devils after all&#8230;<br />
<br />
Most of the Port Arthur historical site has suffered fires at times. Some of it has been rebuilt and then burned down again and then the people gave up, which is fair enough. You can’t stop mother nature. The ruins don’t look much like how it would have looked when it was a functioning colony, however there are enough standing ruins to paint a pretty vivid picture. There are also some actual pictures mounted around the place, which are helpful for those lacking in imagination and those who just want to see whether or not they are good at guessing.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2723" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Looking-at-Bay.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Looking-at-Bay.jpg" alt="It&#039;s a pretty bay and not a bad view for a living Hell." width="450" height="338" class="size-full wp-image-2723" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">It&#8217;s a pretty bay and not a bad view for a living Hell.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
The Separate Prison is probably the most disturbing building on the site. That was where people decided that psychological punishment would be way more effective than physical punishment and they were just not all that far away from wrong on that. Prisoners being kept there were not allowed to communicate with anybody, in any way, at all. All they could do was their allotted work and the rest of their time was for thinking long and hard about what they did that landed them there. It was a very extreme time out, indeed. Even the church pews were individually enclosed, just to make sure the prisoners couldn’t get face time with the guy next to them and bond over church stuff.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2730" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Separate-Prison-Church.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Separate-Prison-Church.jpg" alt="The chapel inside the Separate Prison." width="450" height="337" class="size-full wp-image-2730" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">The chapel inside the Separate Prison.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
I’d never previously spent much time thinking out what life must have been like at Port Arthur, I was far too lazy to have ever read that copy of <em>For The Term of His Natural Life</em> that school gave me as a prize for something academically awesome that I did once. It’s not like I never tried, I just got bored. I was 14 and history was less interesting then. Maybe now I will read it, but no promises&#8230;it’s a long and longwinded book.<br />
<br />
My reading failures aside, the previously never considered thing that struck me was that convicts weren’t the only people who lived where convicts lived. Guards and official type people had to be there too and those people had families. Wives and children that needed to be protected and educated, maybe they even had pets. I can’t confirm that, I never did learn whether or not there were pets at Port Arthur. I hope for their sakes that there were. Dogs are the best.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Private-Residence.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Private-Residence.jpg" alt="20130506 Port Arthur Private Residence" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2728" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Back to the topic at hand: Ghosts. Not only did regular, non-convict people live at Port Arthur but a fair chunk of them died there too. It was those people that I learnt a little something about during the evening Ghost Tour.<br />
<br />
I should probably mention that I don’t really believe in ghosts, but jeez, I would love to because <em>wheeeee</em>, exciting! I am even one of those people who has a pretty terrifying ouija board story from when I was a kid, but still&#8230;no. I enjoy letting that one go unexplained (Hi David, my ghost, if you’re still out there).<br />
<br />
Most ghost stories seem to involve a live human sensing something weird and then stories about a dead human filling in the blanks. I believe that energy is an amazing thing and that some things change energy and that those things and changes aren’t always in the realm of our comprehension. I believe that there are plenty of unexplainable things that happen in this universe we inhabit, but I just don’t think that one of the explanations is likely to be conscious ghosts. Why? Because their existence is illogical. A dead brain can’t, you know, remember things. You need synapses for that.<br />
<br />
Also, because being a ghost sounds like the worst fate ever.<br />
<br />
I mean, <em>somebody lives a really cruel and harsh life and then they die and then they are just stuck hanging around on Earth?</em> That sounds worse than Catholic Hell. You should totally be able to get away from stupid Earthly problems when you die, I think that’s the point of dying. When society changes the rules on what is acceptable behaviour, does that change who gets to just be dead and who is stuck being a ghost forever? Because forever is a really long time to be punished for something that seemed like a biggie 200 years ago but that you would just get a fine for today. What about the ghosts that were simply victims of murder or unfortunate accidents? An incorporeal eternity is a really big punishment for just getting killed.<br />
<br />
Our ghost tour guide was super convincing though, he really made me want to see one! Especially the ghost of the reverend who allegedly tried to choke a construction worker in his old house, long after his death. I wanted to meet <em>that</em> ghost, he sounded exciting. My Prince pointed out that being choked by invisible hands would be terrifying, but I am so brave that I had to shrug and say “That guy didn’t get dead, he just got a bit hurt and scared.” In all honesty, it sounded way more thrilling than terrifying. I’d be all: <em>“I’m getting choked and there’s nothing there?! WTF? This is the best horror movie ever!”</em><br />
<br />
The ghost tour that we were taken on lead us through the church and parsonage, past the children’s infirmary (kid ghosts are the creepiest) and into a surgeon’s basement. A surgeon who may or may not have been doing strange experiments in there. Most of the stories told were about previous supernatural sightings, which I guess makes sense, although I was more expecting to be regaled with stories of horrific deaths rather than stories of strange lights in photographs. Whatever, it was all good fun.<br />
<br />
We ended up at the Separate Prison, where the guide shared his own story of a ghostly encounter with a tiny man that simply could not have existed in current reality. I was pretty jealous to say the least, I really wanted to meet a ghost by that point, it’s easy to get swept up in the magic of it all when you’re wandering around ruins in the dark. I’m quite certain that if I had a job telling ghost stories every night, then I’d end up fully believing in them too.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Ghost-Tour-Lantern.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/20130506-Port-Arthur-Ghost-Tour-Lantern.jpg" alt="20130506 Port Arthur Ghost Tour Lantern" width="450" height="479" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2724" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Port Arthur is too big of a place to visit all the ghosts in one evening. Sadly, we only had one evening to spend there but I’d love to go back there one day and take the tour through the old cell block, commandant’s house and court house, I have a feeling that the convict ghosts will be even more exciting than the reverend and the floating kids.<br />
<br />
I’d also like to take some of the daytime tours of the site in general. I could only handle a couple of hours of exploration all in all because of my dodgy CRPS legs. It’d be nice to stay nearby and soak up the history of Port Arthur over a couple of visits.<br />
<br />
As we were not staying nearby at all, my Prince and I got to play Dodge the Wildlife on the windy road back to the mainland. We narrowly missed wallabies, possums, an incredibly slow pademelon and most excitingly, a devil. It ran right across in front of us and was quite large by devil standards. I enjoyed this sighting immensely, it basically made up for the lack of ghosts earlier.<br />
<br />
And that, my friends, is the conclusion to my great Tasmanian getaway. As holidays go, this one was one of the awesomest. The rest of my time was spent much like the first paragraph in this post. We went for a very pretty drive up the east coast of Tassie on the way home (I flew home out of Launceston), but that adventure was mostly just super pretty for my eyes and not really an interesting story.<br />
<br />
Being home again has been a bit rough. Aside from the physical recovery needed after all of that adventuring, coming back to reality after an escape always kind of sucks. I’m trying to hang on to the holiday fun, however lovely memories never actually manage to solve the regular shit that has to be dealt with. I’ve been a bit unstable, but the plan is to try and work through that with some writing&#8230;<br />
<br />
Missed the earlier parts of my story? Catch up here:<br />
<a href="http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-1/" target="_blank">My Great Tasmanian Getaway: Part 1</a><br />
<a href="http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-2-the-south/" target="_blank">My Great Tasmanian Getaway Part 2: The South</a><br />
<a href="http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-3-bruny-island/" target="_blank">My Great Tasmanian Getaway Part 3: Bruny Island</a><br />
<br />
Love &#038; Poltergeists,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-4-the-ghosts-of-port-arthur/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>My Great Tasmanian Getaway Part 3: Bruny Island</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-3-bruny-island/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-3-bruny-island/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 30 Apr 2013 02:42:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Flare]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2709</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, A few days after my ankle flare inducing adventures, I was ready for more. My ankle hadn’t exactly stopped bothering me, however I was feeling confident that I could handle the remaining pain and also, holidays don’t go forever just because you need more time to recover. Sometimes, it’s go adventuring now or [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
A few days after my <a href="http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-2-the-south/" target="_blank">ankle flare inducing adventures</a>, I was ready for more. My ankle hadn’t exactly stopped bothering me, however I was feeling confident that I could handle the remaining pain and also, holidays don’t go forever just because you need more time to recover. Sometimes, it’s go adventuring now or miss out completely, so I employed a little bit of that <a href="http://rellacafa.com/what-if-desperation-can-transform-into-temporary-strength/" target="_blank">desperation that I wrote about</a> not too long ago.<br />
<br />
Kettering just happens to be the gateway to Bruny Island, we could actually see the ferry from our perfect little cottage. It would have been just plain silly to not have taken it at all during our time there and so, we drove aboard. Bruny Island turned out to be one of my most favourite adventures of the entire trip.<br />
<br />
Thumbs up for being on a boat!<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-On-a-boat.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-On-a-boat.jpg" alt="20130430 On a boat" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2716" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Bruny Island is magical. It’s one island, but it’s kind of two islands connected by a neck, which is a little bit like the conjoined twins of islands, which is delightfully rare and special because islands don’t have to deal with life threatening medical issues.<br />
<br />
The island isn’t really that big, however you can drive around and enjoy a heap of gorgeous and contrasting views of nature and the ocean. From idyllic bays to hazardous surf, plus some fun almost-four-wheel-driving tracks to follow and my most favourite discovery of all&#8230;wild quolls. More on those later.<br />
<br />
This blurry-thumbed-gorgeous-water picture is from the north west side of the island. North Bruny is smaller and less adventure-filled than South Bruny. We drove around in a loop along the dirt road closest to the coast line and vehemently envied all of the people that live there. There were farm houses there that basically had their own bays, beaches and cliffs, surrounded by their own paddocks and bush. <em>Want.</em><br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-North-Bruny-Beach.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-North-Bruny-Beach.jpg" alt="20130430 North Bruny Beach" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2715" /></a></center><br />
<br />
There are a lot of hiking opportunities on Bruny that I would love to be able to explore, however CRPS means that I have to choose when and where to use my steps carefully. So, I chose to use some at these stairs, which was difficult and painful, but so very satisfying.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-On-The-Neck-Bruny.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-On-The-Neck-Bruny.jpg" alt="20130430 On The Neck Bruny" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2714" /></a></center><br />
<br />
That’s the neck between the two parts of the island behind me. I’d never seen anything quite like it. The right side was a quiet bay and the left side had these awesome crashing waves that made me want to dive right in despite the horrific consequences that I’m sure would have followed such a leap.<br />
<br />
Continuing south, we couldn’t help but stop and pick up some Bruny Island Fudge, which is probably one of the most amazing things that people have ever made out of sugar. <em>Mmm, rare local fudge.</em><br />
<br />
The next stop was Adventure Bay, which is famous on account of Captain Cook landed there once. It’s one of the prettiest places that I’ve ever seen, I can see why he stopped. It had started raining when we got there, so we didn’t explore on foot, however we did pick up some lunch and then stopped to eat and were treated to this amazing view that just about made me lose my shit. I might have been channeling the internet famous double rainbow guy.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Rainbow-Adventure-Bay.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Rainbow-Adventure-Bay.jpg" alt="20130430 Rainbow Adventure Bay" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2713" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Fuelled by coffee that was served in a greenhouse cafe (genius, it was freezing and greenhouses are lovely and warm) we continued our driving adventure for as long as we could in one day. You don’t exactly want to try to go too far or get too lost on an island as missing the last ferry back to the mainland means that you’re staying the night whether you planned to or not.<br />
<br />
We drove past some tiny and very old towns, then stopped in at Australia’s southern most winery and did not leave empty handed because delicious. A little bit of wine and all of a sudden my pain from being in the car all day was easier to tolerate. Magic!<br />
<br />
Our last intended destination was Cloudy Bay, which was special and spectacular. Rows and rows of breaking waves that looked like they’d just love to break a body in half, given a chance (some hardcore surfers that were camping nearby seemed happy to take that risk, <em>oh</em>, to have enough health to gamble with&#8230;<em>*starry eyes*</em>). Cloudy Bay also had a rich history of being a meeting place for several aboriginal tribes that once lived in the area. You know, before primitively ignorant white people showed up and did disgustingly awful things to them that I can’t talk about on account of it’s too horrifying.<br />
<br />
Here I am, doing the thumb hula at Cloudy Bay, which quickly became what I couldn’t help but do for most of our tourist pics. When you’re onto a good pose, you’re onto a good pose&#8230;plus, dancing is awesome. If you’re wondering about the pink jacket, well, I haven’t actually bought a water proof jacket since I was a teenager, so that explains that.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Thumb-Hula-Cloudy-Bay.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Thumb-Hula-Cloudy-Bay.jpg" alt="20130430 Thumb Hula Cloudy Bay" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2712" /></a></center><br />
<br />
We went for an all wheel drive through the bush on our way back to the ferry. That’s kind of like four wheel driving, but not quite, but almost. The logging tracks took us through some amazing scenery that was further enhanced by the light drizzle. Forests just tend to look better in the rain.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Forest-Bruny.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Forest-Bruny.jpg" alt="20130430 Forest Bruny" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2711" /></a></center><br />
<br />
I could happily spend a few days exploring and soaking in the wonders of Bruny Island, however we just had the one day with my noncooperative legs and I think we did pretty well to squeeze in as much as possible. I was exhausted, but thoroughly impressed with having survived all of that driving. The sun was setting when we arrived to wait for the last ferry back.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Sunset-Bruny.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Sunset-Bruny.jpg" alt="20130430 Sunset Bruny" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2710" /></a></center><br />
<br />
That was when we saw them.<br />
<br />
<em>The quolls.</em><br />
<br />
I thought quolls were almost extinct! But, they’re doing okay on Bruny Island. The first one that I saw was earlier in the day and it was roadkill. It took a lot to get my head around that and I had to immediately do some googling to find out how it was that this island paradise had enough quolls living on it that they were just jumping out in front of cars (mind you, all of the nocturnal wildlife jumps out in front of cars in Tassie, it’s best just to not drive anywhere at night). I was very pleased to learn that quolls are still living in a few places in Australia thanks to conservation efforts and oceans that keep foxes away. Go, conservation!<br />
<br />
We were waiting for the ferry at dusk, when all of a sudden, my prince started whispering violently and beckoning me to him. He had seen a quoll!<br />
<br />
I was so freaking jealous, I knew there was no way that little bloodsucker was going to reappear for my viewing pleasure. Slightly disappointed, I sat back down to finish drinking my deliciously potent Cheeky Rascal cider (it’s the best, you guys, this is the best cider), when I heard some rustling on the ocean bank. I stepped forward and got a nice big eyeful of a chocolate brown quoll with delightful spots who looked back at me and then disappeared into the brush. Thrilling!<br />
<br />
My prince wandered down the bank to see if he could get a look, at which point the quoll quite distinctively told him to fuck off. I know, I didn’t know they spoke people either, but if that quoll did not squawk-honk “Fuck off!” then I’ll eat your sombrero. I’m not sure how the phrase translates into Quollese, but that hard-assed little furball had the English down pat.<br />
<br />
Why do I care so much about quolls? Because I did a project on them in grade 3. Yep, that primary school stuff, it sticks with you. Basically, quolls are awesome because they look like this. <em>Nawwwwwww&#8230;.</em><br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2717" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://www.ozanimals.com/Mammal/Tiger-Quoll/Dasyurus/maculatus.html"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130430-Quoll-300x227.jpg" alt="Click for image source." width="300" height="227" class="size-medium wp-image-2717" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Click for image source.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
<em>But they are little carnivores that will totally rip your throat out!</em><br />
<br />
Well, maybe not your throat, but definitely the throat of a smaller victim. Give them a break, they only weigh up to about 7 kilos, which is slightly less than my maltese shih tzu (I’m under no pretension, a quoll would kick his ass&#8230;just don’t tell him that). Quolls are like cute little attack cats. They can kill echidnas, with their bare hands and jaws. Could you kill an echidna with your bare hands and jaw? No, you’d take one bite of spikes and be done with that. You see, quolls are tougher than all of us.<br />
<br />
Plus, they’re spotty. Who doesn’t love an animal that’s spotty? I really feel like the noble quoll does not get enough respect amongst the other Australian animals. He is a marsupial too, Tasmanian Devils. He is cute too, Pademelons. He has a temper too, Koalas and Wombats. Sure, he also happens to live on a couple of islands that are not part of Australia, but he’s basically as Aussie as the rest of you and can’t we all just get along?<br />
<br />
Our Bruny Island adventure was one of the most exhausting but rewarding things that I did in Tasmania. It came with added thrills because, before I left home, I honestly wouldn’t have thought that I was capable of physically enduring so much in one day. Sure, I mostly just sat in a car, but even that is a challenge for people with chronic pain. I was a proud little adventurer.<br />
<br />
<em>I have one more Caf Travels story to tell you before I’m done blogging about my Tasmanian getaway. It involves ghosts. Everybody loves ghosts, right? Good. I’ll be back soon with ghost stories and wonderings&#8230;</em><br />
<br />
Love &#038; PRAISE THE NOBLE QUOLLS,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-3-bruny-island/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>My Great Tasmanian Getaway Part 2: The South</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-2-the-south/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-2-the-south/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 27 Apr 2013 01:07:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Flare]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2698</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, Kettering is such a pretty, tiny town. It really just consists of a bay and some boats. I loved the quiet there and the remarkable view of the stars in the night sky. It was also a great location from which to head out and explore some of the stunning scenery that Tasmania [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
Kettering is such a pretty, tiny town. It really just consists of a bay and some boats. I loved the quiet there and the remarkable view of the stars in the night sky. It was also a great location from which to head out and explore some of the stunning scenery that Tasmania has to offer.<br />
<br />
We went on a lot of driving adventures. My Prince was always behind the wheel, but I was impressed with how much being a passenger I could tolerate. Sometimes, CRPS makes even a short trip as a passenger incredibly painful, however all of these years of learning to manage my pain and associated anxieties really paid off on this trip. Plus, there was the removal of all of those other things that I mentioned in the previous post (those necessary to life tasks) that usually zap my strength before I get to the fun stuff.<br />
<br />
We drove around the countryside and the oceanside. Southern Tasmania has such beautiful landscapes to explore. We stopped regularly when we saw pretty things, or when our legs needed stretching. Clocks just aren’t necessary on holidays that are geared towards relaxation, it was far more rewarding to just amble around and find what we found.<br />
<br />
Things like this dried out wallaby carcass that looked suspiciously like a Tasmanian Tiger&#8230;I’m raising my eyebrow at you, extinction.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Wallaby-Carcass.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Wallaby-Carcass.jpg" alt="20130427 Wallaby Carcass" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2703" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Things like these stunning bays and colourful rocks.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Bay-Posing.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Bay-Posing.jpg" alt="20130427 Bay Posing" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2702" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Pretty-Rocks.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Pretty-Rocks.jpg" alt="20130427 Pretty Rocks" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2704" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Things like 200 year old churches and cemeteries (who doesn’t love an old cemetery?), hills and valleys that appeared to have marched straight off of a milk carton, birds that I’d never even seen before and towns like Cygnet, which has a 24 hour emergency butcher.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Emergency-Butcher.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Emergency-Butcher.jpg" alt="20130427 Emergency Butcher" width="450" height="373" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2701" /></a></center><br />
<br />
There is probably a rational explanation for such a thing, but it just makes me picture drunk locals thumping on the door at 3am screaming <em>“I need a steak NOW! It’s an emergency, dammit, my beer to steak ratio is all wrong!”</em><br />
<br />
Tasmania was a great place for me to holiday because, despite not being able to hike places like a healthy version of me would have loved doing, there was a lot that I could see without walking too far from the car. We drove down through the Huon valley, which is rather picturesque. Somewhere near the bottom, we adventured to the highest and lowest points of our trip.<br />
<br />
This view (achieved via car)&#8230;<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Highest-View.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Highest-View.jpg" alt="20130427 Highest View" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2700" /></a></center><br />
<br />
And this view (achieved via clutching rails and writing off the next day to ankle rehab)&#8230;<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Hastings-Cave.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130427-Hastings-Cave.jpg" alt="20130427 Hastings Cave" width="450" height="600" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2699" /></a></center><br />
<br />
My ankle was totally done in at this point. The strangest thing about my adventure induced original site ankle flare was that it remained just in that original region. CRPS first struck me on the right side, from my toes to about midway up my calf. It’s easy to forget this because I generally have generalised pain accompanying everything these days, however there is a reason that CRPS has “regional” in it. The ankle gave me grief for the next couple of days, but I can’t help thinking that the fresh ocean air helped to keep it in its place. Usually, those flares last much longer and quickly mirror to the other leg and then up into my arms.<br />
<br />
My spirit for adventure was not going to be stopped by a stupid one region flare, no Sirree! My Prince and I needed to relax and rejuvenate and the next day we headed into Hobart and spent an afternoon at the only actual spa that we could find in the vicinity.<br />
<br />
<em>Seriously, guys, a place where you get facials and massages is not a spa if there are no tubs of bubbly water there! Who approved this word appropriation? Because I disagree strongly. If facials count as a spa, then what am I supposed to called actual spas? Steaming wet pits? Those sound like the start of a deodorant commercial. Is it because “massage parlour” sounds sexy? Because if you are mainly going there to get massaged then that’s where you’re going, better get comfortable enough that you can handle a name with a history of use by under the radar prostitutes. Logically, they have more right to use “massage” than massage therapists have to use “spa”. Alternatively, I’ll help you out with a new start&#8230;you’re going to a pamper palace. Enjoy your pamper palaces and stop making it so difficult for me to find a tub of hot, aerated water. Seriously. </em><br />
<br />
Rants aside, the spa that we visited (Savoy Day Spa) was really quite delightful. It was located in the basement of an old bank in Hobart. We spent most of an afternoon rotating between the salt water pool, the <em>actual spa</em> spa, the steam room and the sauna. I could tolerate the steam room more than I would have expected to have been able to, but the dry sauna? Not so much. That’s a bit of an owie burn. The pool was my favourite part, bobbing around in salt water always seems to help put me back on a healing path.<br />
<br />
I need to get one of those pools in my backyard, anyone wanna spot me the thousands of dollars that would cost? Aww, come on&#8230;I’ll even consider indecent proposals, that is how much having my own salt water pool would help me manage my pain at home. Also, I just kind of want to hear how indecent you’re willing to get, for my own sick amusement&#8230;<br />
<br />
We were so in need of that relaxation that once we were spa-ed out, we basically floated out of the basement and back to the car. At which point, we proceeded to not even be able to find the right road back to Kettering and ended up on a not entirely unenjoyable windy drive that took us most of the way up Mt Wellington before we eventually figured out where we’d gone wrong. Sometimes, when the body releases tension, it lets go of a significant amount of brain power right along with it.<br />
<br />
My body started to behave better after I’d taken some time out to be nice to it. My ankle didn’t exactly leave me alone, but it did calm down. The next day was for being sleepy and listening to the rain on the cottage roof. After that, though, I was ready for another adventure, pain or not&#8230;<br />
<br />
Love &#038; Adventures,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
P.S. I’m feeling quite a bit better than the shrivelled mess that I was yesterday. The evisceration has eased off and I can even stand up almost straight! More stretching, pacing and Feldenkrais today&#8230;I can bounce back quickly, <em>I can!</em><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-2-the-south/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>My Great Tasmanian Getaway: Part 1</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-1/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-1/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 26 Apr 2013 01:53:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping With Anxiety/Depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2694</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, I’m back! Back from being whisked away for an escape from my dreary life. Back from a wonderful few weeks with my very own Prince Awesome. Back from the south, as far south as one can drive in Australia. Back from the delightful, wonderful and wild state that the rest of us have [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
I’m back! Back from being whisked away for an escape from my dreary life. Back from a wonderful few weeks with my very own Prince Awesome. Back from the south, as far south as one can drive in Australia. Back from the delightful, wonderful and wild state that the rest of us have been unfairly mocking for years&#8230;<em>Tasmania</em>.<br />
<br />
This trip arrived just in time. I’m seeing life more clearly than I was at the start of this year and what I see from here is this: I was headed down the rocky road toward batshit crazy. I was absolutely losing it. The big it of sanity. I thought that I was hanging in there, but all I was doing was surviving, slowly, in a detached, confused and slightly deluded state. The delusion was that I thought I was still coping even the tiniest bit. I was not.<br />
<br />
The change of scenery was the most refreshing thing that I have experienced in the past six and a half years. It was my first real holiday since developing CRPS and, let’s face it, for a significant amount of time before that. I was awakened by the ocean breeze in my face, my hair, my everywhere. I was calmed by the wind in the gumtrees, the laughing kookaburras and bumble-brained-but-adorable wallabies.<br />
<br />
And, <em>oh</em>, the views. Nobody ever told me that everywhere in Tasmania has spectacular views! I guess that’s why none of the windows there have fly screens. Full disclosure: I did not visit every single part of Tasmania and will generalise freely with my view praise and fly screen wonderings.<br />
<br />
I was more than a bit nervous as I packed and prepared for my spontaneous holiday. I didn’t even remember to take a camera that wasn’t my phone. How would my body cope? Would it stop me from adventuring? Would my dogs be alright without me? (relax, I didn’t just leave them at home alone, but I thought they might not be okay without me, specifically) Why was I packing those jeans that none of my shoes match? Would I be able to sleep in beds that weren’t mine? And, terrifyingly, would the ants marching into my roof completely take over my home while I was gone?! (No, no, they wouldn’t).<br />
<br />
Only one of my silly worries was really valid and that’s the first one. How would my body cope? The answer is, pretty good, actually. The flight over was a bit tough on my hands, but only because they were burning horrendously for the few days beforehand. Luckily, it only takes an hour to fly to Tasmania and I can put up with almost anything for only an hour.<br />
<br />
I had some time to kill while my Prince finished up his work before Easter and managed to wander much further than I would have expected my legs to allow. Wandering was exhilarating after I had been feeling so trapped at home. I explored Rosny and even found a little museum to have a look at. One of the best things about Tasmania is that there is history hiding behind every turn and I happen to love old stuff. Story filled stuff is the best stuff.<br />
<br />
I figured that my legs would just give out on me after that, I mean, I climbed a pretty big hill to look out at this lookout.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130426-Rosny-Lookout.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130426-Rosny-Lookout.jpg" alt="20130426 Rosny Lookout" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2696" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Thankfully, my body had much better plans. It decided to work with me, for once, and the pain remained tolerable for the drive down to the holiday cottage that we stayed in at Kettering. Once we were there, everything started to get better. I had basically forgotten how relaxing it is to relax in a place away from the stresses of home and normal routines, but it is extremely relaxing.<br />
<br />
Morning cups of coffee with this view were like living a fantasy. The ocean is just at the bottom of that very steep hill. Fresh sea breezes all day and all night are some sort of perfect medicine for a frazzled nervous system.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130426-View-from-Manuka-.jpg"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/20130426-View-from-Manuka-.jpg" alt="20130426 View from Manuka" width="450" height="338" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2695" /></a></center><br />
<br />
My highly sensitised body found the climate in Tasmania particularly agreeable. The temperatures are generally a little bit cooler than Victoria, however they really don’t feel as cold as they are. Eleven degrees in Tasmania does not feel like eleven degrees in Melbourne. It’s far more pleasant down there. I raised this with one local who explained to me that it was “because they have more sky”. I hope that she wasn’t referring the their proximity to the hole in the ozone layer, because I love her explanation much more.<br />
<br />
The Tasmanian climate is better for me because they have more sky. I can totally get on board with that. I like sky.<br />
<br />
I also like local produce, which Tasmania has a lot of. I dare say that that’s because of the small ocean between them and the rest of our country, not to mention the rest of the world.  One of the most fabulous things they produce there is wine, particularly Pinot Noir, which I am rather fond of. I might have had wine every day that I was there. I might be a slight alcoholic now, but I’m pretty sure I’m OK, it was good quality wine and that almost definitely makes a difference.<br />
<br />
Also, Tasmanians make some truly delightful whisky. The best one that we tried was called Three Capes. It was a new addition to the bar at the Port Arthur restaurant and appears to only be available for purchase direct from the distiller. I don’t think they have it in stores, it’s only just gone on the market at all. Thanks for that recommendation, waiter! Another great Tassie whisky that is more widely available is Hellyer’s Road. You should try some of that, provided that you like whisky, of course. If you don’t like whisky it’s probably just going to taste like burning and so we, as a society, shouldn’t waste any on you.<br />
<br />
It turns out that when I don’t have to do any cooking, or cleaning, or look after those amazing dogs of mine, or stress about the stresses of life and money and food and things&#8230;when I don’t have to do any of that then I am up for quite a bit of adventuring.<br />
<br />
So much adventuring, in fact, that I simply cannot fit it all into one blog post. Which is pretty great on account of that before this holiday, I hadn’t done much that I wanted to write about in a long time. Don’t worry, it’s all very exciting and involves quolls and ghosts (separately awesome beings) as well as a rant about the misappropriation of the word “spa”, so&#8230;stay tuned.<br />
<br />
Love &#038; Escape,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
P.S. I started writing this on Monday. My physical state has plummeted since then and I currently feel like I’m being eviscerated with a wire coat hanger. Life, huh? Thankfully, most of the writing about my trip is already done, otherwise we’d be straight back into my crappy every day reality, in which I’m not really coping any better than I was before the holiday. Bothering to turn on the laptop and publish this right now is me forcing myself not to give up completely. I’m only sitting up right now through sheer determination, doing so hurts like crazy. I guess the point of this post script is to let you know not to be fooled by my smiling holiday pictures. Yes, I had a wonderful time. No, I am not magically better now.<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/my-great-tasmanian-getaway-part-1/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>What If Desperation Can Transform Into Temporary Strength?</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/what-if-desperation-can-transform-into-temporary-strength/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/what-if-desperation-can-transform-into-temporary-strength/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Mar 2013 04:20:13 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping With Anxiety/Depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Socialising]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2690</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, The wedding&#8230;it was beautiful. I’m so thrilled for the stunning bride and her equally stunning groom. I wish them nothing but happiness in their lives together. My body&#8230;it survived. I threw away everything that day, all of the stress and cares and inabilities. I chucked the woes aside and I danced with my [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
The wedding&#8230;it was beautiful. I’m so thrilled for the stunning bride and her equally stunning groom. I wish them nothing but happiness in their lives together.<br />
<br />
My body&#8230;it survived. I threw away everything that day, all of the stress and cares and inabilities. I chucked the woes aside and I danced with my arms above my head. I put my hands in the air like I just didn’t care because of that fact that <em>I did care</em>. I cared very much about having the best time that I could and celebrating such a wonderful day.<br />
<br />
It’s hard to explain how I got through such a big event when, so often, I can hardly get through a day at home.<br />
<br />
I was watching <a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/the-walking-dead" target="_blank">The Walking Dead</a> over breakfast this morning, as you do, when I realised a possible explanation for how I sometimes manage to physically push through an important event that just won’t be repeated.<br />
<br />
I was watching a character running for their life (no spoilers, I promise). Running through pain, stress and confusion. Running fast, propelled by the promise of imminent danger. People can do some pretty incredible things when they are threatened. That flight or fight response can create instant energy in a lethargic body. Our survival instinct understands that a threat is not going to wait until we are feeling well before attacking.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2691" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 500px"><a href="http://www.google.com.au/imgres?hl=en&amp;safe=off&amp;biw=1180&amp;bih=575&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=AKb9PxdJH0X0lM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://starcasm.net/archives/150687&amp;docid=SU7paZtAArI41M&amp;imgurl=http://starcasm.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/shane_running.jpg&amp;w=490&amp;h=326&amp;ei=w8lHUdPaA6j5mAWV6YCYBA&amp;zoom=1&amp;sa=X&amp;ved=0CFkQhBwwBA&amp;ved=1t:3588,r:4,s:0,i:89&amp;iact=rc&amp;dur=1350&amp;page=1&amp;tbnh=177&amp;tbnw=275&amp;start=0&amp;ndsp=12&amp;tx=150&amp;ty=34"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/20130319-shane_running.jpg" alt="Not the image that inspired this line of thinking, but you get the idea..." width="490" height="326" class="size-full wp-image-2691" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Not the image that inspired this line of thinking, but you get the idea&#8230;</p></div><br />
<br />
<strong>What if that instinct, that power to flee, that fire to fight&#8230;what if that can be harnessed and used to overcome less life threatening obstacles? What if desperation, in different forms, can tap into the primal desperation for survival? </strong></center><br />
<br />
I am no stranger to feeling desperate.<br />
<br />
These days, I am so desperate to enjoy any sort of event or activity that I won’t wear my sad face on such occasions. I’ve spent quite enough time at home feeling sick and sad over the past six and a bit years, I’ve learnt a thing or two about feeling pain without showing pain.<br />
<br />
Don’t be fooled because you remember my bearded performance as Lord Montague in that high school production of Romeo and Juliet, I’m an amazing actress. I have to be, I’m trying to fool myself and I’m a tough audience. You see, anytime that I’m not scrunching up my face, or falling to the floor, or sobbing hysterically, or making that absurd wailing sound that I’m fairly sure means that I’ll become a banshee when I die&#8230; anytime I’m not doing that I am acting, to some degree.<br />
<br />
Chronic pain doesn’t take breaks. Sure, it has an unpredictable ability to fluctuate in intensity, but it’s never gone. When I appear well, it’s usually because I am coping well, rather than actually feeling well. When we are having a good time together, you usually won’t see my pain until my body reaches the point of no-functiony-collapsy-exhaustion.<br />
<br />
My <a href="http://rellacafa.com/thoughts-from-the-abyss/" target="_blank">last blog post</a> was on the topic of feeling empty. Maybe, the desperation to fill that emptiness with something, anything at all, maybe that helps to allow me to summon extra strength. It’s not a singular driving force. That particular sense of desperation is accompanied by the desperation to not miss out on all of life’s wonders due to CRPS and also by my constant desire to still be me, to still do things that are an expression of me as a person and a friend, not just a sick person.<br />
<br />
<em>I’m still in here, somewhere.</em><br />
<br />
Perhaps, sometimes, overcoming is simply a matter of different streams of desperation, combining and combusting. The explosion lights up my darkened mind like a flare in the night sky, rejuvenates my strength like a sugar overdose in a toddler. Much like the toddler, I will collapse afterward. I will spend days, weeks, even months recovering from the physical ramifications of the emotional blast.<br />
<br />
Much like the person fleeing zombies, my body will give out the moment that I am safe. At the end of the party, at the end of the thing that I’ve wanted to enjoy, I will shut down, pain will skyrocket and probably there will be a flashing empty battery sign on my forehead. If I’ve had myself a soul replenishing good time, I usually wear this collapse with a slight smile of pride (provided that I’ve sustained no infectious zombie bites).<br />
<br />
And so, maybe, that is how I managed to have such a lovely weekend for my friend’s wedding, despite the fact that I’ve spent most of this year flailing about and struggling for breath. Aside from this one, magical, weekend, I’ve been feeling overwhelmingly useless. Coping with pain flaring has been more of a struggle than usual and coping with life stresses has seemed like an unobtainable illusion.<br />
<br />
<em>Coping? What’s coping again?</em><br />
<br />
I want my mojo back and I’m going to have to trek some hard yards in order to get it. Such journeys always start with the smallest of steps, little itty bitty things that allow me to feel even the tiniest bit of control over my mind and body.<br />
<br />
I have to practise my relaxation techniques and increase the amount of time spent doing Feldenkrais and physical rehabilitation exercises. I have to try to reconnect with life, friends, my writing and figure out some goals that are achievable. I have to expose myself to information that is inspiring, read the work of writers that I enjoy, follow my interests and (most importantly for my daily sanity) filter my social media feeds and interactions to only include people and things that don’t leave me feeling negative or drained.<br />
<br />
<center><em><strong>How do you get through important events, Audy? What do you think about my theory of combusting desperation?</strong></em></center><br />
<br />
Love &#038; One of those itty bitty steps that I mentioned,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/what-if-desperation-can-transform-into-temporary-strength/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>9</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Thoughts From The Abyss</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/thoughts-from-the-abyss/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/thoughts-from-the-abyss/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 22 Feb 2013 00:42:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping With Anxiety/Depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2686</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, My, how quickly a month can pass in blogging silence. I have not been feeling like myself lately, I have not been feeling much like anybody at all. Life seems to be spinning by around me and I feel disconnected in a way that I’m unaccustomed to. I just don’t have much to [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
My, how quickly a month can pass in blogging silence. I have not been feeling like myself lately, I have not been feeling much like anybody at all. Life seems to be spinning by around me and I feel disconnected in a way that I’m unaccustomed to. I just don’t have much to say to anybody, about anything, at all.<br />
<br />
I feel like a vintage set of Dominos in the mocking hands of fate. My speckled panels are worn beyond recognition. Life plays games with me. Lines me up, knocks me down, lines me up, knocks me down&#8230;until the fragile wood gives in to the clacking and smacking of repeated assaults and I break apart on the floor.<br />
<br />
The first few weeks of the backslide weren’t too bad. I was able to fend of feeling sad about temporary setbacks. Those happen to everybody, not just people with CRPS. I was going to be back on my handling-things-horse in no time&#8230;<br />
<br />
Until something else happened. And then something else happened. And then those things caused other things to happen. And does it even matter what the things are anymore? Does the specificity of the fist ever make a difference to the sting on the face?<br />
<br />
There has been a lot of pain. There has been a lot of incapacitation. There has been a lot of loneliness and less than enough energy to do anything about that. There have been tears. But mostly? Mostly, there has been numbness.<br />
<br />
I feel empty in the strangest way.<br />
<br />
I have these dreams of overcoming the chronic pain that I live with. I dream about managing my pain down to a minimum, maintaining mobility long enough to keep control of a clean diet, getting off all medication, creating a life for myself that is bigger and wider than simply surviving. I dream about living a life outside of this house that imprisons me, this suburb where I am marooned.<br />
<br />
I dream of independence.<br />
<br />
But it feels&#8230;. <em>so unlikely</em>.<br />
<br />
And I hate to admit it.<br />
<br />
So I haven’t been saying anything at all.<br />
<br />
I haven’t been engaging with the angst ridden thoughts. I haven’t been writing about the same circle of severe health problems that have plagued me since 2006. I haven’t been engaging with the messages, the enquiries, the social media feeds that bring me a tidal wave of stories about personal triumphs and tragedies.<br />
<br />
My silence is not through lack of appreciation of anybody, it’s because there is so little inside me right now that I just don’t have anything to give. The most confusing part is that this feeling of burnout, this concrete security door that slams down behind my eyes whenever I try to formulate a response to anything&#8230; I’ve never felt it this strongly before.<br />
<br />
It’s strange to feel such emptiness, such nothing, so strongly.<br />
<br />
I have this thought that plays through my mind whenever things get really tough. Whenever the pain flares beyond all recognition of what I thought was possible, whenever another injury takes me down, or another ability is limited. When life seems so incredibly painful and pointless that it feels impossible that anything good could happen ever again, I think: “Is this the moment when I give up?”<br />
<br />
The words run through my mind like a voiceover on a sappy film. Is this the moment? Is this the moment that will take me down, is it the beginning of the end?<br />
<br />
As depressing as that sounds, this thought is actually a positive coping mechanism. Because the answer is always <em>no</em>. I refuse to give up. I won’t let that moment exist. Instead, I search for the happy things to hold onto, the reasons to go forward, the dreams that I could achieve, the tiny steps that I can take in the moment.<br />
<br />
Lately, I search and I see nothing but haze. I see a vague potential for growth, but then I get knocked down for another week, or a month, and those dreams fizzle out, smothered by the reality of chronic illness.<br />
<br />
I’m not spending all of my time feeling depressed, not at all. There is a difference between blank and miserable. I kind of thought that it was depression at first, but then I remembered that there were things that had actually happened. There were events that knocked me down, physical symptoms beyond my control.<br />
<br />
Having a human response to upsetting circumstances isn’t a mental illness and it helps me to remember that.<br />
<br />
This emptiness&#8230;it just means that I have some things to figure out, that’s all. I’ve had a lot of trouble trying to decide how to explain this to you, Audy, because just by describing my current challenges, I feel like I’m giving the emptiness more power than it deserves. Not to mention that I hate to depress you. I really hate that the very nature of my existence is often saddening to others and so sometimes I clam up until I can find the sparkly lining.<br />
<br />
I’m spending most of my days seeking escape in stories. I haven’t figured out how to fill this abyss yet, I haven’t figured out how to function around it and, whilst I believe that overcoming is a possibility, I have no idea how I am going to get past this new phase of my crippledom.<br />
<br />
Next week, I will be a bridesmaid at the wedding of my oldest friend in the world. It’s quite a challenge for somebody who struggles to shower on a lot of days, however some moments are more important than struggles; some friends are more important. Who knows? Maybe part of this emptiness is just a kind of energy conservation so that I can enjoy the wedding.<br />
<br />
I’ll write when I can, Audy. Writing is usually a good sign. Earlier in the emptiness, I tried to write to you on several occasions and what tumbled out was such useless ramble that I couldn’t bring myself to burden your eyes with it. Sometimes, the thoughts just need to settle.<br />
<br />
And maybe I’m getting somewhere now.<br />
<br />
But, please don’t be offended if you don’t hear from me personally. I honestly don’t know when the strength for one-on-one interactions, with people outside a very small circle of close friends, will return. It’ll come back I’m sure. In the meantime, I’ll blog when I can and hopefully you won’t hate me for snubbing you.<br />
<br />
Love &#038; Emptiness Explaining,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/thoughts-from-the-abyss/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Raising Awareness of Chronic Pain: Mainstream Magazine Style</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/raising-awareness-of-chronic-pain-mainstream-magazine-style/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/raising-awareness-of-chronic-pain-mainstream-magazine-style/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Jan 2013 02:00:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2679</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, Well, don’t I have some exciting news for you&#8230; My story has been featured in an article about chronic pain that is currently available in Australian Women’s Weekly Health magazine! The article, titled “When Pain Takes Over Your Life” (p.90), shines a light on the challenges that face Australians who are living with [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
Well, don’t I have some exciting news for you&#8230;<br />
<br />
<center><strong>My story has been featured in an article about chronic pain that is currently available in Australian Women’s Weekly Health magazine! </strong></center><br />
<br />
The article, titled “When Pain Takes Over Your Life” (p.90), shines a light on the challenges that face Australians who are living with chronic pain. More than 3.2 million of us, so that’s a pretty big torch. It details some different ways that people can be affected by pain and discusses some approaches to pain management, including the costs and obstacles involved in receiving these treatments.<br />
<br />
Aussies: Get thee to a newsagency!<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2680" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/20130122-Womens-Weekly-Health-mag.jpg" alt="Hayley Cafarella" width="450" height="450" class="size-full wp-image-2680" /><p class="wp-caption-text">It&#8217;s the one that looks like this!</p></div></center><br />
<br />
I am so grateful to the author, Amanda Bower, for researching and writing such an informative article. Raising awareness about chronic pain isn’t easy, but it is happening and I think that this article will go a long way towards helping our cause.<br />
<br />
<em>How exciting!</em><br />
<br />
Love &#038; Squeals,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/raising-awareness-of-chronic-pain-mainstream-magazine-style/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Reclaiming The Morning From Pain</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/reclaiming-the-morning-from-pain/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/reclaiming-the-morning-from-pain/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Jan 2013 05:26:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping With Anxiety/Depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2676</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, I wake up earlier than I’d like and wondering why my body won’t just sleep like it needs to. As consciousness takes hold, pain fills my arms, seeping through them like poison in the bloodstream. Minutes pass and the poison begins to fill my legs, pouring down and pooling at the bottom. I [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
I wake up earlier than I’d like and wondering why my body won’t just sleep like it needs to. As consciousness takes hold, pain fills my arms, seeping through them like poison in the bloodstream. Minutes pass and the poison begins to fill my legs, pouring down and pooling at the bottom. I wriggle a little as the soreness settles into its constant burn, I smile at the morning light filtering into the room and I think&#8230;<br />
<br />
<em>Everything is OK.</em><br />
<br />
Living with chronic pain is a little bit like waking up every day with a hangover. Pain and emotions are most powerful before reason starts functioning. Even after years of dealing with CRPS, some mornings I still find my brain accepting the pain as an alarm and panicking in the moments before my mind switches on.<br />
<br />
<em>Holy Hell, I’m on fire! Oh, shit! Shit! Shit! Everything hurts, am I dying? &#8230; &#8230; &#8230; Oh, yeah, that’s right, I have CRPS. Carry on, morning.</em><br />
<br />
Lately, I have been extremely focused on improving my strength. I was so weak, for so long last year that my fragility was severely impacting on my ability to manage my chronic pain. For a while there, I lost hope that I could take control of my life, in spite of CRPS.<br />
<br />
Hopelessness is a black jungle that I wish never to return to again. The only method that I know of that can change a thought/emotion cycle is to actually change thoughts and things. The only way that I know of to actually change thoughts and things is through mindfulness, realising that a mind can always be opened further, and sheer determination.<br />
<br />
In order to keep improving my activity levels, which follows through to improving my strength, I need to take more control, first thing every morning. This is a part of dealing with CRPS that I haven’t been particularly great at in the past, at my worst I’ve spent entire days (weeks, months&#8230;) just waiting to feel better.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, I’m human and as such, I can learn to do things that I haven’t been able to do before. I can learn to get on with something, <em>anything</em>, rather than letting a bad wake up ruin my day.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2677" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/20130121-Beach-Smiles.jpg" alt="Smiling because at the beach, but also because waking up that morning was rough and I was awfully proud to have gotten out anyway." width="450" height="600" class="size-full wp-image-2677" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Smiling because at the beach, but also because waking up that morning was rough and I was awfully proud to have gotten out anyway.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
<center><strong>It’s been quite some time now since I realised that my beliefs, thoughts and skills are all changeable and that epiphany was one of the most powerful things that I’ve ever experienced.</strong></center><br />
<br />
I don’t accept that I have to be rigid in anything that goes on in my head. I don’t accept that living with chronic pain means that I have to be depressed. Neither my physical skills, nor psychological habits are fixed and the path to understanding how to change something usually begins behind an option that a less openminded, past version of myself might have considered unfathomable.<br />
<br />
<em>I don’t accept so many things that I’ve grown up thinking were permanently ingrained parts of me, that I occasionally feel like I really don’t know myself at all anymore.</em><br />
<br />
To reclaim my mornings from pain and confusion, I have been approaching how I think about CRPS differently. It’s not a weird monster that has invaded me and might flip out at any second. It feels like that sometimes, but that’s not what CRPS is. CRPS is just my nervous system misinterpreting stuff. It just means that I’ll feel physical pain and have some strange bodily reactions to pretty regular things. That’s all.<br />
<br />
When trying to take back power over something that is overwhelming, it helps to throw in a “just”.<br />
<br />
<em>It’s just CRPS.</em><br />
<br />
Waking up has been easier lately, even on those days that ache more than the others. Those aches are just CRPS. Those aches will feel different after some morning stretches. Those aches will change.<br />
<br />
<center><strong>It’s easier to notice and appreciate <em>change</em> without necessarily attaching it to <em>better</em> or <em>worse</em> on the pain scale. I know that nothing is permanent and that if I begin my day, I’ll feel different to how I do at that initial moment of waking.</strong></center><br />
<br />
I don’t expect to feel better, I just expect to feel different and I’m starting to respond to difference as a positive and happy making experience. I’m creating this response by repeatedly forcing recognition of my thoughts and then thinking other thoughts instead.<br />
<br />
<em>It actually is that simple.</em><br />
<br />
Everything that makes a thought seem inescapable is just smoke and mirrors. Keeping this idea with me helps me to keep searching for the trick, to keep uncovering the layers until I understand the illusion, no matter how devastating the emotions that I’m feeling seem to be in the moment.<br />
<br />
Being mindful of what’s going on in my head has helped me to keep pushing my physical limits. I’m spending most of my time exercising, cleaning, running errands and cooking, followed by the pain managing stretching, Feldenkrais and soaking. It’s not glamourous at all, but it’s far more lively an existence than feeling sad and being scared to move off the couch.<br />
<br />
I’m starting to feel like myself again, even if that self is in flux, because why must a self be a static thing anyway? I prefer myself malleable, it makes life far more interesting.<br />
<br />
<center><strong><em>Do you find mornings hard to handle, Audy? What helps you to get out of bed and give it your best?</em></strong></center><br />
<br />
Love &#038; Grins,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/reclaiming-the-morning-from-pain/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Squirrel Days</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/squirrel-days/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/squirrel-days/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jan 2013 04:55:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2671</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, I’m currently living in strobe lighting. It’s a strange place to be. The lights flash and my thoughts appear violently, only to abruptly vanish and leave me lost in the dark. I’m not miserable here, I’m patiently trying to seize the moments of clarity and refrain from fearing the darkness. Keep breathing, relax, [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
I’m currently living in strobe lighting. It’s a strange place to be. The lights flash and my thoughts appear violently, only to abruptly vanish and leave me lost in the dark. I’m not miserable here, I’m patiently trying to seize the moments of clarity and refrain from fearing the darkness.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2672" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://willcarryon.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/up_dug.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/20130115-Squirrel-300x168.jpg" alt="SQUIRREL!" width="300" height="168" class="size-medium wp-image-2672" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">SQUIRREL!</p></div></center><br />
<br />
<em>Keep breathing, relax, keep going&#8230;</em><br />
<br />
The weather fluctuation flares kicked in this week&#8230;at lower length and intensity than I’m accustomed to, hurrah! CRPS seems to have decided that my joints should scream when the weather cools and my limbs burn uselessly when the weather warms. I’ve had to spend quite a few days this week just dealing with pain, but on the days in between, I’ve been able to keep working on improving my strength through activity and diet.<br />
<br />
<em>Bye bye, naughty Christmas carbs&#8230;</em><br />
<br />
Speaking of Christmas carbs, I totally forgot to post a link to this little story that I wrote back in December! It gets vague up in ‘ere. Go and check out <a href="http://emmiedark.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/12-days-of-christmas-hayley-cafarella.html" target="_blank">my story about a very special Christmas pudding</a> if you happen to like love stories about food&#8230;<br />
<br />
<center><strong>I have one priority at the moment, just one: Stay in control and move towards balance. Keep calm and carry on, this war won’t be won through panic. </strong></center><br />
<br />
I tell myself that everything is <em>OK</em>. CRPS is <em>OK</em>. Needing to consider pacing during every second of every day is <em>OK</em>. Being bored is <em>OK</em>. Doing absolutely nothing is better than OK; resting is paramount to my forward momentum.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>SQUIRREL!</em></strong><br />
<br />
<em>Oh, Balance, you mythical winged bull, Maybe you’re impossible to strike, but I’m going to keep flying as close to you as I can. </em><br />
<br />
What I am I trying to balance? <em>What aren’t I trying to balance!</em><br />
<br />
<center>Exercise vs Rest<br />
Activity vs Pain<br />
Mobility vs Pain<br />
Concentration vs Painbrain<br />
Healthy eating vs Mobility<br />
<br />
<strong>Caf vs Crippledom</strong></center><br />
<br />
I’m so intent on managing my little body and life that I went an entire day without even thinking about social media. <em>An entire day!</em> One day without Twitter and I completely missed The Golden Globes. It was confusing, I can’t remember how I ever knew what was happening in the world before there was a stream of opinions to check in on. Probably, I didn&#8217;t.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>SQUIRREL!</em></strong><br />
<br />
Speaking of streams, I need to find a workflow for blogging and replying and writing. There is just so much to be distracted by in this online world, I need to toughen up about what I’m following and on which social media.<br />
<br />
Speaking of toughening up, I decided that I’d improved enough to drop an evening pill last Friday. I’m suffering for my bravery, but I’m sure I’ll sleep through the night soon and that my concentration will come back if I just keep pestering it. I keep wondering why I’m vague-ing out so frequently and then remember the pill thing and then everything makes sense again.<br />
<br />
Speaking of making sense, I’m just not sure that I’m doing well at that today. I was determined to blog, because I set this time aside for blogging and that’s a part of my whole thing. I’m trying super hard to make my brain work, even though its fighting me at every turn.<br />
<br />
<center><em>“You were thinking about something? Not anymore! See that? That’s just an empty cloud. YOU CAN’T SEE ANYTHING IN AN EMPTY CLOUD. Haha! <strong>SQUIRREL!</strong>”</em> -Painbrain</center><br />
<br />
Today is one of the days that I’ve come to think of as “down”. It’s a down day, but not in the way that my emotions are all down in the dumps, just in the way that I’m recovering from an active day yesterday and saving up energy to be active again soon.<br />
<br />
Hmm, I can’t think of a word that sums up a down day and doesn’t already have connotations (slow day would work, but already means that time appears to pass slowly)&#8230;<br />
<br />
<center><strong><em>What do you think, Audy? What shall we call these days that aren’t sad but most certainly aren’t active and are merely par for the course when living with chronic illness?</em></strong></center><br />
<br />
No, wait, I just reread this rambly post and they are clearly “Squirrel Days”. And thank you, dog from <em>Up</em>.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>SQUIRREL!</em></strong><br />
<br />
Love &#038; Lighting Effects,<br />
Caf<br />
<br />
<font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/squirrel-days/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Thalassotherapy: It’s A Beach Thing</title>
		<link>http://rellacafa.com/thalassotherapy-its-a-beach-thing/</link>
		<comments>http://rellacafa.com/thalassotherapy-its-a-beach-thing/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Jan 2013 03:43:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Hayley Cafarella</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Living With CRPS/RSD]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping With Anxiety/Depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pain Management]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rellacafa.com/?p=2664</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Audy, I’m kind of addicted to swimming in the sea. This addiction started back in December, when the days got warm enough for hitting the beach, and has continued because I’m experiencing a lot of health benefits for my efforts. Not all that surprisingly, humans have been playing with the health benefits of the [...]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Audy,<br />
<br />
I’m kind of addicted to swimming in the sea. This addiction started back in December, when the days got warm enough for hitting the beach, and has continued because I’m experiencing a lot of health benefits for my efforts. Not all that surprisingly, humans have been playing with the health benefits of the ocean for centuries and have even named the practise “Thalassotherapy”.<br />
<br />
<center><div id="attachment_2665" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 460px"><img src="http://rellacafa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/20130107-Beach.jpg" alt="Living in Australia can be pretty alright. " width="450" height="600" class="size-full wp-image-2665" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Living in Australia can be pretty alright.</p></div></center><br />
<br />
Thalassotherapy is the practise of using sea water and shore climate to treat health ailments. <em>Finally</em>, I understand why the grandmother in Roald Dahl’s <em>The Witches</em> was prescribed an ocean holiday to assist her health&#8230;this is actually a thing. A thing that has been going on for a long time and has even been marketed into overpriced spa treatments for rich people.<br />
<br />
<em>I always thought that going to the beach improved my mood because it was just a fun thing to do, but it turns out that there might be more to it than that. I mean, watching an episode of <a href="http://www.ifc.com/shows/portlandia" target="_blank">Portlandia</a> is also a fun thing to do, but I’m yet to notice it actively lowering my pain levels.</em><br />
<br />
Poking around the internet, I have learnt that there are a couple of science-type explanations for why going to the beach could be helping me to feel better. Personally, reading about this sort of stuff is just gravy, if something makes me feel better it makes me feel better. I’ve been at this chronic pain game long enough to know that the scientific method can’t explain or prove everything&#8230;.yet.<br />
<br />
<strong>So far, this is what internet reported science has had to say about why going to the beach is helpful:</strong><br />
</p>
<li><strong>Sunshine!</strong> Vitamin D is integral to a healthily functioning human body. Here in Australia, fearing the sun has become common practise. The benefits of sunlight without sunburn seem to have been thrown out in the skin cancer panic. I wear sunscreen and I don’t go to the beach to tan my skin, however I definitely notice the positive difference to my mood and overall feeling of well being for having gotten some sun.</li>
<p></p>
<li><strong>Seawater has lots of good stuff in it!</strong> That salty flavour includes magnesium, potassium, calcium, sodium and iodide &#8211; stuff that is soaked in through the skin and can be good for reducing inflammation and promoting healing.</li>
<p></p>
<li><strong>Negative ions!</strong> Ok, maybe I don’t fully understand what a negative ion is, but what I do understand is that when I inhale a few deep breaths of fresh sea air, I feel all sorts of better. Apparently, ions are molecules in the air that have gained or lost an electrical charge. Moving water creates a bunch of negative ions that can have a mood lightening effect on those who breathe them in. You can read more about negative ions <a href="http://www.webmd.com/balance/features/negative-ions-create-positive-vibes" target="_blank">here</a>, or hit the journals if you’d like more reputable information than me telling you I feel better.</li>
<p></p>
<li><strong>Exercise!</strong> The human body is designed to move, plain and simple. Moving makes it function better and being in the ocean allows me to move in non-harmful ways that benefit my overall fitness level.</li>
<p></p>
<li><strong>Relaxation!</strong> I really enjoy the beach. I just&#8230;<em>really like it</em>. Combining something that I really enjoy with managing my chronic pain feels like winning a jackpot. It’s much easier to muster up therapy motivation for an enjoyable activity than it is to motivate myself into exercise that is beneficial but terribly boring.</li>
<p></p>
<li><strong>Lasting relief!</strong> That feeling of reduced pain and increased energy levels stays with me for long after I am out of the water. This is especially good to know on days that are going to be extremely hot or humid because an early morning dip can save me from a day of harsh weather flares. Slowly increasing my fitness levels also means that all other activities become that little bit easier.</li>
<p><Br><br />
Living with CRPS in all of my limbs makes exercising tricky. If my legs are flaring, I can’t handle anything that involves standing on them and that rules out most cardio. If my hands are flaring, I still experience increases in the pain from walking on my legs and I am also more likely to flare up in the lower regions if I’m already being pained by the upper regions.<br />
<br />
Building any sort of muscular strength is a delicate balancing act, but is also a necessary part of managing chronic pain. A weak body hurts more and is more easily injured. This is why when one thing goes wrong in a CRPS effected body, it can very easily lead to another problem and another problem because of the difficulty in regaining strength after any sort of setback. When it happens, it’s kind of like getting stuck in a loop of weakness.<br />
<br />
In the past, I’ve had some patchy success with undertaking hydrotherapy in an indoor pool. I found it easier to move without increasing pain whilst in the water and also enjoyed a lot of relief from the pain of gravity by using floatation devices. With regular visits, I was able to build up some core strength that helped to make other forms of exercise, like walking, more viable.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, my body really struggles to cope with a pool environment. Such places are ridiculously humid and the water and air reek with chemicals. Both of those factors are conducive to increasing my pain and tend to undo a lot of the progress that I make in the water, before I even get back to the car.<br />
<br />
<center><strong>Several weeks ago, when I made that first beach trip of the Summer, something spectacular happened. Wading into the water provided instant relief for my burning limbs.</strong></center><br />
<br />
<em>I felt better, straight away. I can’t think of any words that could possibly explain how amazing such an experience was after six years of CRPS. It was a little bit like those few moments during my 10 day ketamine infusion when I felt painlessness and vowed to never give up my fight, only without the preceding days of hallucinogenic torture or the disastrous consequences.</em><br />
<br />
Once in the water, I was able to move around fairly freely and get into some of the exercises that I used to do in the hydrotherapy pool. Floating is a breeze in salt water and I was able to relax on my back and let the weightlessness and gentle swaying of the waves melt away my tension. The water was cool enough to bring about goosebumps, but not create a hindering chill.<br />
<br />
<center><strong>I felt free. I can’t remember another moment during my life with CRPS during which I can honestly say that I felt free.</strong></center><br />
<br />
Chronic pain turns a person’s body into a sort of prison cell. Any activities are only undertaken by following the rules of the warden (CRPS). Permanent physical limitations can stifle freedom like no other oppression that I have even known (I’m a white Australian, so you know, pretty lucky in that regard).<br />
<br />
Feeling free is like feeling young again, feeling healthy. The best part is that this feeling stays with me throughout the rest of the day. The coolness of the water seems to penetrate my body and sit deeply enough that I actually continue to experience feeling better long after I have dried off.<br />
<br />
Naturally, I have been returning to the beach as often as I can handle. I’m careful not to push my energy levels too far, I try not to stay out too long and I mostly tread water and float around, but just doing that has been enough to kickstart some healing.<br />
<br />
It takes about 5-6 songs to drive to the beach from my house, so not all that far, but far enough to force me to pace out my visits and that’s probably a good thing. Without a distance buffer, I’d be in the water every day, which would either be awesome or just cause me to overexert myself. I’m only going to know which case is true <em>after</em> you buy me a beach house, or send me to a resort for a few weeks. So, you know, you should probably get on that as soon as possible. And thanks!<br />
<br />
<center> <strong><em>Do you like going to the beach, Audy?</em></strong></center><br />
<br />
Love &#038; Bobbing Around,<br />
Caf</p>
<p><font color="#0000CC">
<li><a href="http://rellacafa.com/?page_id=2"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">More about me&#8230;</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://twitter.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Follow me on Twitter</font></u></a></li>
<li><a href="http://facebook.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Like Rellacafa on Facebook</font></u></font></a></li>
<li><a href="http://youtube.com/Rellacafa"target="_blank"><u><font color="#0000CC">Subscribe on Youtube</font></u></a></li>
<p></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://rellacafa.com/thalassotherapy-its-a-beach-thing/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
