Day Two- Home Again, Home Again

Jiggy-Jig.
I'm still at home, and worse than ever. Not good. I had to call in this morning despite all efforts to the contrary. When I finally dragged myself into the shower I could barely stand the feeling of the water on my back. It was like being beaten with a hammer. I've had it this bad before, but not since I graduated from school. I'm worried about work, and about how disabled I'm going to get.
I've made the decision to try to get a service dog to help me when I'm home alone. There are several problems with this decision. The first is that Fibro is often rejected as a real disability, although I have prescriptions for my walker and cane, and am working on getting a wheel chair the Federal government does not consider Fibro a true disability. Of the 30% of Fibro suffers who cannot hold down jobs because of their disability only 14% are on Disability. That's a sad number considering how bad Fibro can get.
I'm incredibly lucking when it comes to work. Though I worry, my bosses do believe me when I explain my illness. Though they don't understand and don't try, they also don't question me as though I'm a lazy liar. That's unusual, even in hospitals. My mother has Fibro, and is a nurse. Though she works with patients who are often in incredible amounts of pain, and is surrounded by specialist doctors, her co-workers question her need for rests, the amount of pain she's in, and even whether there is anything wrong with her.
In some ways I'm lucky because when I first got Fibro my mother had had it for years. She believed me, and took me to doctors right away. Though they did nothing for me, and often told me nothing was wrong with me, my mother refused to believe them. She had been through it before.
I'll be sure to update later, but for now think on that.
Salvate!
-Fiona