I have taken the last three days off. I thought my body was hurting because of the twelve-hour days I had put in lately. I thought that the three day weekend would help solve that. It hasn't.
It is Monday afternoon, and I have rested more these last few days than at any time in recent memory. It's time to face facts; there might be something wrong with my body. Everything hurts, all of the joints are sore and stiff, some are swelling, and I've begun to do some research. So far, it is a possibility that Rheumatoid Arthritis is the culprit.
What do I have to say about this? Not much, except it may be time to actually go see the doc and find out for certain. It's just that I hate going to doctors (I usually reserve all of my physicals for emergency room visits; you know the type, blood gushing from some wound or other, and "hey, while you're at it, can you check my blood pressure?"). That strict regimen has worked for years, and I have been waiting for some type of emergency room visit, so I could once again cash in on the two-for- the-price-of one doctor visit. If it doesn't occur soon, I'll have to make an "appointment". Gads! Just the thought makes me want to vomit.
How certain am I about this? Not real certain at all. But there must be some explanation. I can't remember the last time I didn't swallow eight to ten Ibuprofen pills a day, even on days off. When I wake up in the morning, I take one Vitamin C pill, One "One-a Day" Vitamin pill, and four or five Ibuprofen. That's why I don't eat breakfast; I'm already full just minutes after waking!.
For now, I'll live with it. Even if it is Rheumatoid Arthritis, I don't know what can be done about it. But it sure would be nice to know I'm not just being a wuss. Or maybe I am?