Apparently, I forgot how this disease works...

Saturday at Bristol, I did a lot of painting. A little bit of lifting of painted things, but for the most part, I painted. And Sunday, I painted more. On Sunday morning, though, before I was even dressed, I tripped on my stairs and banged my forearm against a corner on the wall.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because Sunday I could feel things starting to drag me down. By the end of the day, I felt like a giant sloth. Sloooowly dragging my body across the road. Gravity pulling me down to the ground and then poking me with a sharp stick. Monday was downright miserable. Tuesday even worse. I'm in agony. I feel exhausted and everything hurts. I feel like the pain is radiating from my feet and then spreading through my body. By the time it gets to my head, the pain has changed into mind-numbing exhaustion.

Monday, I kept wondering what I had done to myself to cause all this pain. I mean, I painted. That's all I did. I wasn't hauling heavy things around. I wasn't walking the entire length of the faire multiple times. I was sitting on my ass, painting benches and other such wooden things. I tripped and banged my arm, but surely that can't be what's causing all this pain.

Today, I took the dogs out and I was leaning against the railing on the deck. Let's go... I'm tired... I have to take a shower and get my day started (we're going back to Bristol today, to help in the garden again). And I suddenly remembered... This disease does this. How in the hell could I forget that this disease makes its own flareups? I mean, really. REALLY.

I've been officially diagnosed for the last three years. I've dealt with symptoms for at least eight years. And I stupidly allow myself to fall into a false sense of security when I have a slew of good days.

I'm in a full-on flareup and I feel terrible. But,  I'll have a steady flow of Vicodin in my blood today and that's cool.  And, I get to go to Bristol today and I'll see some people I don't get to see except for at Bristol and that's cool.  And if I keep this steady flow of Vicodin in my blood today, there will be a lot more things that I think are cool. And that's cool. (also, don't worry, I'm not driving to Bristol. The Disabled Guy is... and that's cool).