Category Archives: Spoon Theory

Somnilight: Important stuff from the FB comments. (Revised)

It was brought to my attention I goofed. I apologize. I see tons of ads for TheraSpecs, I didn’t realize I was reading about a different brand.

I found something new I want to try! I read the Facebook comments so you don’t have to.

Somnilight are glasses that block out light that causes headache and migraines, much like sunglasses. It helps with computer screens, pesky sun light, and florescent lights. They help battle the minions that would destroy photosensitive warriors with photophobia.  Also sounds like a way to stretch our allotted spoons for the day. For more detail watch the video.

For more detail, here is Somnilight’s research and links to more research about the glasses:

The glasses come in amber, red, and outdoor. On the website I’m only seeing “outdoor” and “indoor” option, indoor being red. You can find amber on amazon. Both block 90% blue light which is what usually triggers the migraine. Red blocks a wider range of light and is considered darker-by some it is a little to dark for computer work. Red is not good for driving because it blocks green light. The Somnilight people recommend that you wear amber on a daily basis if you have photophobia  or intractable migraines and then red on migraine days.

There are two brands. The other is TheraSpecs. Theraspecs will add your prescription.  They also have an option to send in your own frames.

Somni Priceing: Red 49.99$ Amber 39.99$. Bundle 69.99$

TheraSpecs Pricing: Send in your own frames 70$. Indoor black 99$. Outdoor 129$.  The cheapest combo is 198$.

Both also come in the kind that slip over you glasses for the same price.

Somni has a Coupon code in the feed: CLEARANCE for 50%

Ships within 4 days for many people. If you are unhappy, there is a 60 day risk free trail period. Send them back and they will give you a refund. However you are responsible for the shipping for the return, about 3$.

Any questions? Post it to the Facebook feed. The person managing it replies with useful information and quickly (mostly the same day). 

There was one who commented that the glasses were recommended by his neurologist. The majority of commentators that used/tried the glasses filled the feed with about how the glasses made living with a monster under their neurons easier. Most of the feed was individuals saying they just ordered, have plans to order, wondering if they should try it, or giving reasons why they thought it wouldn’t work for them. I only remember one saying she returned them but that was because they were to small, she regretted giving them up, being me I thought why not take them to your local Walmart and get them adjusted or when I got my refund send in my own frames and purchase it again?

I am going to be asking my neurologist about these at my next Botox.

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Filed under migraine/headache, pain, Pain managment, Spoon Theory

No Spoons for You!

If Grandpa wasn’t standing there. If he had seen. If my surroundings had not suddenly collapsed. Or if we were not surrounded by family she was meeting for the first time. I would have  given my step-grandmother, the retired nurse, a piece of my mind.

She just wanted to see me smile, she didn’t know any better. Yeah, right, the nurse had no idea.

I experience allodynia all the time. It gives me extra little bursts of pain when I am touched. Usually it only presents on my head and face. She knows this, I told her the first time she patted my head like a good little child and the time she laid hands on me to pray. I wish she didn’t have the psychological need to touch people.

The family re-union began early Sunday morning with a church and memorial service (we remember all who have died since we gathered last). It was a nice service, Mom gave a good sermon, distant cousin did the memorial, and we sang/prayed. So, typical noise and light trigger fest that I was expecting. In-between the service and family meal, step-grandmother slinks over and bends over the pew in front of me. She grabbed my face and started patting it and squishes it together a little. Then she kept patting my cheek as she patted the bottom of my chin. I think my brain began playing a bit of impromptu soccer.

I must be really good or she sees what she wants to. Somewhere a thought boomed, smile idiot or every single person here is going to know you feel like crap and why because she will announce it to the 100+ people here. It was just me there, my keeper of the day was in  the bathroom. To my luck she says I love it when you smile..and then asked for my Mom. She did it to make me SMILE. I had to hurry and get myself back into check before I started to cry or the before extended family noticed.

I learned pained face can look like a smile. I can’t figure out why she would have stopped otherwise.

Smiling is something I practice. When I look into the mirror I try while looking at an old photo and get frustrated with myself. I watch comedies, read the funnies, and keep up with things I am suppose to laugh at. I practice. Smiling is a skill that healthy people take for granted, I did. I was that annoying person who smiled for no reason. I was often told I smiled too much or was too happy. I giggled and laughed easily. But now it’s hard. I can feel the vibrations of laughter in my skull. Giggling is tiring. Smiling is hard when your physical pain is so consuming. I was in acting before I got sick. So I can smile while engaged with someone, it takes effort but the smile can look natural. When engaged with someone I can even get distracted enough to make small smiles and soft laughter naturally. I have learned to laugh silently. My niece gets a kick out of it. It all takes practice and concentration. It might sound silly, but part of me is afraid that I will forget how to express happiness so I practice.

It is almost an insult to be told to smile. It is unkind to make someone feel like their best efforts to function in an hostile environment is not good enough. Especially by someone who knows why the environment is hostile. It is unfair to have to hold all the things you want to tell the jerk in because of what others think are okay excuses, her age, family status, grandpa, her feelings, she probably doesn’t remember, trying to show they care.

My real grandma taught me that it is more important that I go to these things then to put on a happy face or even interact with anyone. It is about effort and showing that I care. She said that I should pick the most comfortable spot and if anyone wanted to see me they could come to me. She would say that anyone who did not appreciate the effort of showing up wasn’t worth my time. Now, they didn’t have to come see me to appreciate my effort, they just had to respect the fact that I am a disabled person who needs control over my environment and can become overwhelmed by crowds. I am making a statement to you by being here. I am giving up all my spoons to be here. It might might end up taking everything I can muster today, but I wanted to be here. Grandma also said its okay not to go, don’t try to give out spoons you don’t have. It is like stealing, only jail is the hospital. When you don’t go it is their responsibility to show caring: we missed you, take care, there will be another time, do you need.

I do not understand step-grandmother. All she had to do to see me smile was to engage me in conversation. She does something uncaring every time I see her. I am told it’s because she cares. She violated the spoons. Grandma took years to teach my extended family a way to be around me without being awkward or fearful. Step-grandmother is announcing that I don’t meet her requirements, I do not cope with my illness well enough, I cannot function well enough to be presented in society. The time before she actually said that I am still sick because my mom, gramma, and deceased grandma did not care for me well enough. I find it ironic that in my immediate family I’m the nicest and most tolerant, so before we met her I was chosen to create that bridge of acceptance into the family for her.

I have not been patted on the cheek since I was a child. Grandma did it saying I was a cute rascal. When being treated like a five-year-old I really want to act like one. Five-year-olds are allowed to cry, be crabby, and whine when it hurts. They can tell people off and be the worse brat imaginable because of a boo-boo. Makes me want to be 5.

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Filed under pain, Spoon Theory, tolerance