Chronicle of Chronic Things Chronologically

I never thought it would happen, but I guess I'm one of those people who suffers from chronic pain.  I don't have fibromyalgia or M-S, but I swear each day something hurts, often multiple somethings.  Whether it's my back because our mattress is older than I am or sinus pressure because of a change in weather, my "normal" is somewhere on the pain scale.

Last night, certain pain was so bad I took a painkiller (hydrocodone).  I don't take them often, and I only take them at home because they're the equivalent of smoking about three joints for me.  I sometimes slur my speech, and I most certainly cannot operate heavy machinery as the label warns.  I'm not all that convinced that it really takes the pain away; it just makes me not care that I'm in pain.

Then, around 3 a.m., both Doogie and I had to pee.  I got up to let him out, and it was amazing.  Nothing hurt.  I stood up and felt nothing.  Not my head, not my back, not my knee (which I dislocated before Thanksgiving),  not my other knee (which has been picking up the slack), not my uterus (which has issues), not my ovaries (which have even more issues and are very angry about them).  It was incredible!

The next morning, when I remembered what had happened, I thought, "Is this how normal people feel?"  It wasn't until the complete absence of pain that I realized how much pain I'm in on a regular basis.  And that kind of sucks.

There's not really a point to this post.  It is kind of depressing, so here is a gratuitous picture of a kitten serenading you:

Photo by Benjamin Torode

Splish Splash

Recently, a friend posted on Facebook how unrealistic "bath scenes" are in television.  She made some great points, such as:

• That many candles are a fire hazard
• By the time "your man" gets home, you will be wrinkled and pruny, not sexy.
• My favorite:  "You know you're just going to have to take a shower later, a 'business shower,' where upon you do all the things you needed to do in the first place (shave pits, legs, lady parts, and wash hair)" (Underground for Tea).

Like I said, she makes some very valid points.  And it got me thinking (dangerous, I know). I generally take baths to relax because I'm super stressed out, not for sexy time.

Step 1:  Is the bathtub clean?  Eh, I'll rinse it out and risk it.
Step 2:   Fill with (hopefully hot) water.  

 Maybe there are some lame bubbles, but more than likely, Epson salts because I'm fucking sore and incredibly neurotic.

So I get into the tub...crap.  I suppose I could light a candle, but --

Hi.

Hi.  Anyway, maybe a candle, and I was thinking of reading a few pages of that book I --

Whatcha doin'?

I am taking a bath.

Sometimes it's nice to read in the tub, assuming I don't get the pages all wet.  I could even grade papers or --

Is that water?

Yes.

Are you sure??

Can I lick it?

Yes it is, and no, you can't.

What's goin' on, guys?

Crap.

Apparently there's water in there.

I am trying to relax!

Really?  Where??  I like water.

I liiiiiike it.  I do.  What's this?  Can I touch it?  Can I bat at it? Can I knock it into the water?  This is fun!  Let's plunge my hairy hairy arms all the way into the water!  Splash splash splash!

Ohmygod, I love ALL of you!

Pet me.  Pet me.  PET ME NOW.

Bath time is so much fun!  Fun fun fun! Splash splash splash!

Are you sure I can't lick just a little bit of water off of you?

It won't be awkward.  I promise.

MAMA NEEDS SOME ALONE TIME!!!

Wow.

Geesh.

You don't have to be all defensive about it.

I AM NOT BEING DEFENSIVE!!!

...meanwhile outside...

I heard this is where the bath is happening?