Oh my aching body...

This is the first step of the process, drawing out the mosaic.  I've had to work on this in two trips already and it's not even 50% painted.  This is the beginning picture, when I finish I'll add more pictures of the process.  I worked on this for 4 1/2 hours today in these cute but oh so uncomfortable chairs.  I sat on my jacket for a little cushion but next time I might take my own pillow.  My fingers ache so badly tonight and I've already been on the heating pad a ton since we got home.  It will be so worth it when it's finished, but I really notice the difference in my health on days like today.  I used to be able to sit for hours and craft and make jewelry.  Now I pay a price for that.  As for the spoon theory, I am borrowing from tomorrow's spoons right now.  I'll have to dial back tomorrow for sure.  

I'm in the middle of a flare up on top of a flare up.  I was thinking today, if I would just give in and take the meds and stay in bed for 2 days I'd probably feel better faster, but I won't.  I think when you have chronic pain you learn to live with it.  At least for me, I won't give up the time to just focus on getting better from something, I'll just take less meds to get through the day and it will take 2 weeks to get better instead of 2 days.  These weather systems are just killing me, headache on top of headache and now my neck is all jacked up.  I could stay in bed all day doped up on muscle relaxers, but I don't want to miss a day.  So I take them at night and use heat all day during the day, and take Advil and baby it through.  I had a stomach bug 2 weeks ago and for some reason that flares up my IBS and now I'm taking half doses of meds for that to try to get that under control because the meds make me so tired.

I feel awful and I feel miserable, but not many people would know that because it's become so the norm that I just keep on keeping on.  It's bad now though, like I said, a flare on top of a flare, and I'm ready for just the "normal" pain to return and kick this extra heaping spoonful to the curb. On that whiny, complaining note, I'll call it a night and dream of my beautiful finished mosaic tissue box, that will mean the world to me because only I will know the toll it took to complete.