My long term tennant
Avoid the images button if the intake of food is temporally local in either direction.
Comes and goes, and that makes it bearable. The evil treatments they throw at it help, but they only set it back, not destroy it, it always returns.
When not so bad, a gut full of tramadol takes away the slight bacground soreness, and smooths peaks off the occasional random stab of pain, or moment of pain caused by an ill thought limb movement, or seating.
When it's bad, if I took enough tramadol to dull the pain to a bearable level, I'd most likely have a seizure and probably die, as it is, I take as many as don't make me feel too much worse (in terms of general all round horridnes) than the outbreak is already doing (loads of poisons in the blood).
When it's been bad for a while, it ruins me. I get perpetually sick and tired, and very VERY short,evil and downright vicious tempered.
I've used it as an excuse only when it's been true.....like for some SERIOUSLY poor behaviour here and nasty things said to good people, a few years ago. Likewise it's sometimes the underlying cause when my Inner Cunt gets out for a rampage among family and friends. Sometimes it HAS to be the excuse for physical things, even little ones like walking, again because it's true.
I think most people who have to deal with me would say that I actually err on the side of trying to ignore the condition too much, walk as far as others, move around as normal and so on. I'm quite glad of that because I would hate to become Mr I Have Everything You Have Only Worse Plus Others Plus New Stuff The Docs Haven't Seen Before........I really hate that cunt, and he is many. I would also hate to become Mr I Can't Do Anything Because There's Something Wrong With Me, also a cunt, also too common.......although there are of course many system wide condtions that render this a perfectly true thing for the sufferer (Eg, genuine flu), there are legions of wankers who take a broken toe as a reaon not to type.
I do talk about it of course, but my nearest and dearest don't usually need to hear it, one look at the waxines vector and co-efficient of looking like I'm 2 days dead already, and they can tell. When I do talk about it though, it's almost always sort of chirpy, or at least deliver the news in an amusing way, I don't want to become Marvin.
It may be sore, bloody sore. But.......it comes and goes, it very rarely kills anyone, they MIGHT be able to take a melon baller to the affected area and that MIGHT fix me, and when push comes to shove, I can cope with it. So I always count myself lucky, because there are a million thins out there the would suck INFINITELY more, with a really unhappy ending.
