RheumaBlog

Same dragon, different day.

Back in October I got a laser pen, one of those things bright young lieutenants use to point out strategic spots on enemy-territory wall maps to the four-star generals they’re briefing. Presumably, they used a laser pen like mine to point out Tora Bora just before the president butted in and changed the mission so …

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My body seems to have settled into a one-day-up, one-day-down pattern—which, while not perfect, is a lot better than the all-days-down sinkhole I was in last week. After the initial hour or so of creaky, ouchful stiffness I wake up with every morning smoothed out, I was actually feeling pretty darned good Monday morning, so …

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It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring. He went to bed, and bumped his head, and couldn’t get up in the morning. This silly song from my childhood played in my head as I woke up this morning and saw the gray skies through my rain-spattered bedroom window.  I’d have been up dancing …

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As you know if you’ve read my last couple of posts, I’ve finally started resistance weight training. I say “finally” because it’s something I’ve been thinking about doing for a long, long time. I’m almost afraid to say it for fear of jinxing myself, but this daily hour of sustained exercise is having an effect …

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Killer. That’s my new name for Mike, the fitness trainer at the gym. Yes, the gym. My gym. That sounds so weird to me: My gym. Why? Because I have never really been into exercise, particularly since passing my 45th birthday and facing the grim fact that cute little gym/workout clothes won’t work out on …

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When I was sixteen, all zits and teen-aged angst, the one person who understood and comforted me better than anyone else was Hector. When I was 25 and pregnant with my daughter, Annie was always around to make me laugh. In Germany, when I was 33, my friend Max was the one who made me …

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Twenty minutes on the recumbent bike, pedaling, pedaling and pedaling as I watched, on a flatscreen TV set high up on the wall, a mindless but beautiful couple blather on about Demi Moore and her mystery illness.  I moved on to the weight machines, set up in a circuit. Mike, the middle-aged fitness trainer, showed …

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