Last week I was told by my mother-in-law I look like a zombie. This was due to me walking and looking like one. It was a night of the usual severe pain and fatigue, where every move kills your body.
I, of course, laughed at this because of how much I hate zombies (traumatized as child at the babysitters from watching Night Of The Living Dead- yet this doesn't keep me from watching The Walking Dead). And yes, walking like this happens often.
This weekend I thought I'd give golf a try again. After the first hole I threw in the flag. I could feel it in my wrists and elbows. I decided to not have a repeat of last time. The feeling of how I felt afterwards was too fresh in my mind. When will I golf again? I'm guessing next year when the thoughts of how I feel afterward are long forgotten.
I also received my denial of disability this past week. Surprise surprise...I know it's going to be a long fight, especially after hearing stories from other BD'ers. I find the letter rather amusing. It pretty much states my condition is not severe enough to keep me from working. What I wouldn't give for the people who decided this to be hit with this disease. I wish they were forced to spend a week with me or in my body so they may understand. I have a meeting with a disability lawyer next week. I'll be spending my good time (time where I can semi-function) gathering info from websites and my own records I've kept to give to the lawyers.
I came across something rather interesting a couple days ago:
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