I hate pills

You know you're getting older when you have to eat breakfast even if you'r not hungry because you have to take your pills.  I was bending over this morning to collect laundry and my hips reminded me that I hadn't taken my Aleve yet.  Sigh.  So here I sit eating a bowl of oatmeal I don't really want but have seen too many gut bleeds from people who take NSAIDS on empty stomachs not to eat it.  My husband says I'm very good natured about my autoimmune illness, which surprises me because I feel like I whine all of the time.  I keep going, but it's not beneath me to emit "ows" very quietly as I walk in the morning.

My mother died a horrible death from a constellation of illnesses:  diabetes, hypertension,  kidney failure, and heart failure.  Of course the kidney and heart failures were a direct result of poorly controlled diabetes and hypertension but let's not go there.  As a result I am a self-confessed health nut; I try to live my life in moderation, weigh the same that I weighed when I graduated from high school, exercise regularly, and so on.  You get the picture.  Imagine my dismay when I developed an autoimmune illness that no one seems to know what to do about so I'm stuck treating symptoms instead of cause.  I feel cheated.

So another sign of impending old age -- pills.  Lots and lots of pills.  Not to mention the limits on physical activity options.  Running:  Out; arthritic fee.  Swimming:  Good, but pool hours don't coincide with what little free time I have during the week so out.  Lifting weights:  Good, but only with very very very light weights (we're talking three pounders -- I guess I'll sell my weight belt on eBay); anything else makes my shoulders and hands ache.  Yoga:  Good!  Walking:  Good!  Tai chi:  Even better!  All of the exercise you see OLD PEOPLE DOING in those senior fitness commercials.  I refuse to exercise in bloomers.

I saw a picture of a beautiful 94 year old woman  standing next to her son who was in his seventies.  I said to Jack, "I hope I look that good when I'm 94, "  to which he replied, "You won't live that long, the RA will kill you first."  Thanks Jack, thanks a whole helluva lot.

Well, I'm done with my oatmeal.  Time for pills.