Oh these cursed hips!

OK, so the 'roids aren't enough to overcome "abusive" activity.

I've been doing quite well at 7.5 mg per day, as long as I don't "do too much," as the doctor put it.

What exactly constitutes doing "too much?"  That would be different for every person, obviously.

But too much, for me, would be just a normal day for most people.

And that's what really gets me down.

Because what I'm trying to achieve is the ability to "have a life."  Much like every other person enjoys.  You know?

I guess it's just not in the cards for me.

Here's how the most recent realization came about.

I've started a walking program.  Doing quite well too.  Twenty minutes, up hills, down hills.  Quite the work-out.  No repercussions.

But on the day I couldn't go for my walk, due to weather conditions, I went back to the stationary bicycle.

Ooops.  Big mistake.  That got my bursae inflamed again, big time.  That was last Sunday.

Spent the intervening days getting the pain under control.

On Thursday, my massage therapist worked miracles.  That night I had a most fabulous sleep.  Seven hours straight, then dozed off again for another hour and a half!  That's eight and a half hours' sleep.  Haven't done that since my teen years, I'm sure!

I didn't do much of anything on Friday.  Couldn't even go for my walk because it was too cold out (-30) and my lungs wouldn't be able to handle it (cold air induced asthma).  That night, I had a terrible sleep again (I know not why but I recall having had difficulty getting comfortable).

Then we come to Saturday.  That would be yesterday.

I had promised my good friend, LC, that I would take her to North Gower so she could buy (order) a dress for her son's upcoming destination wedding.  Now, here's the rub.  North Gower is 30 minutes from her home.  It's 45 minutes from my home.  BUT, her home is 45 minutes from my home.  You get the picture?

I drove 45 minutes (it actually took me a full hour, due to traffic problems) to pick her up.  Then we drove a half hour to North Gower.

We arrived a half hour before the shop opened, so we found a restaurant and had coffee to kill the extra time.  The dress-shopping experience was a first for me but it was interesting.  And it involved a lot of standing.  (Yes, she found a lovely dress that will, hopefully, be ready for her on time for the wedding.)

When we finished, we drove a half hour back to Ottawa, stopping to have lunch.  Then I drove the 45 minutes back home, stopping to pick up a few groceries en route.

That's a lot of time in a car, in one day.  And my hips let me know it.

By the time I got home, I could barely walk.

Into the jet massage tub went I.  And oh it felt good.

But not good enough I guess.

Last night was not a good night.

Both hips burned in pain all night.

I could feel the pain permeating my sleep.  My dreams were filled with pain.

So today, obviously, will be another day of doing nothing but rest (and icing my hips, which I should have done last evening!).

What this is telling me is -- I shouldn't even think about a trip to Florida to attend my boys' Spring Training Camp.  What would be the point?

Damn these cursed hips anyway!