So You Think You Can Dance?

Kat, this one is for you.

The fibro dance. Ever heard of it? Ever danced it? Two steps forward, three steps back. You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in, then you shake it all about...
If fibromyalgia is a dance, then I'd gladly become a wallflower.

If I had to put fibro to music, I'd choose 'Twist and Shout' as its theme song. The most harmless of movement can bring on the ultimate pain. As a visual aid, the video 'Thriller' should be on the poster. We can totally rock the zombie walk in the morning.

Unlike dance, fibro requires no special ability for the sufferer to excel. Anyone can apply, there are no auditions to sweat through and this is one dance where you can definitely get jiggy all by your lonesome.

The two-step forward days are ballroom dance; graceful, effortless gliding on smooth marbled floors. If not danced wisely, the ensuing euphoria can give way to a frenetic tap dance - a marathon of endurance.

Suddenly, from no where a trap door opens with a jerk and you and your toe-shoes are free-falling into the orchestra pit.

The three-step backward days are the only constant in this rhythm-less dance. However, you can't exactly walk this one off. While professional dancers possess the luxury of a lithe, lean body, I'm channelling four lesser-known dwarves: frumpy, dumpy, lumpy and grumpy. Bed-bound, couch-bound and outta bounds, we attend to our pain with the same tools as an over-stretched ballerina: ice-packs and/or heat.

We happily hip-hop through the pain-free days. We gyrate like a sensuous, sinewy belly-dancer with carefree abandon. Until a cure is found, fibro not only steps on our metaphorical toes, it STOMPS them.

If fibro is a dance then I'd be happy to sit this one out and let my card go unfilled. Maybe it's the famous fibro fog but I don't recall signing up for any dance lessons.