Time for a Change

My stories are old. Hubby is tired of me spending time writing on the blog. I'm getting tired of trying to be creative. I know nothing about it, but my boss got me into Twitter. Being I can only write a little on there (I don't know how many characters, but I know there is a limit) it makes sense to switch.

So today is the last day of the blog. I'm moving over to Twitter with my picture of the day. Sure hope you'll come see me over there! (Just search for debzpicaday.) We'll see how it works just hanging there. I'm not sure but you may have to join. (Sorry about that.) Let me know how it works for you. I may be back here if it winds up not being the best solution. 

And guess what? I'm almost brave enough to post a picture of myself. But not yet. Today it'll be just a picture of a flower on today's walk.

Threatened with a Wheelchair

I had a really rough night last night. The pain was more than I've felt in quite some time. The joints, the muscles, the overall achy everything. Almost brought me to tears. I went to bed earlier hoping it would help. But like most nights I tossed and turned (and maybe even whimpered some).

I know why I hurt so much. I'm trying to live a normal life. I'm working full time now for the first time since before I started this blog. Five full days working like a normal person, a Saturday spent working in the garden like a normal person, a Sunday spent at the grocery store like a normal person. Walking around the block like a normal person. (Can you tell the GPS is still off?)


But I'm not a normal person. Or so the rheumatologist reminded me today.

That was at about the same time he threatened me with a wheelchair.

I've been resisting going back to the infusions for going on several months. The doctor made a pretty darn good case about why ignoring treatment is a bad idea. He is absolutely confident that I will be in a wheelchair and on disability within five years. And between now and those five years? The pain, stiffness, fatigue, and joint damage will get worse. I will never get better, never live a normal life. But with infusions, I could possibly have two good months out of every three.

I might just take those two months. Better than what happened last night. I can't hide that kind of misery.