5/21/2020, 7:20AM - I should be in bed still, next to my man sleeping past nine, like the night owls we are. Instead, I find myself bowled over with pain, gingerly sipping sparkling water and clinging to my bong like it's a life-preserver. My IBS has been flaring up again in ways I haven’t experienced since the initial onset of my Fibromyalgia in 2011. It feels like I swallowed poison, or a nuclear bomb went off in my abdomen. The pain is sharp and intense, and makes me cry out when it grips my insides with clawed hands. But, chaos has no mercy, and this is my burden to bear. Like Paul, I’ve asked God/Chaos/whoever/whatever’s up there to take it away. But, this is my roll of the dice, and there's no taking it back this karmic go-around. It’s exhausting, to be honest. I can barely keep my eyes open. The only things keeping me awake right now are pain, nausea, and the feeling I may need to use the bathroom. Again. For the millionth time in the last 35 minutes. Before 2011, I did...
Musings about chronic illness, pro-wrestling, cars, love, and other things.