The celebrex pills haven't really helped. Like the ibuprofen and Naproxen, it takes the edge off, but all I have to do is move a little bit or reach for something a little too far away and I'm physically reminded that moving can be painful. This makes me sad. I put more hope in this different medicine than I should have. All the prescription dope is having it's affect on me. It makes me mope around without any ambition to do even my necessary chores.
I brought on myself by going over the top continuously writing for 8-10 hours a day, and then beginning to practice the major and minor scales for a couple of hours on top of that. I got this way by ignoring the fact that my body won't tolerate pushing it the way I did when I was younger and more flexible. I tried to work through the pain, and that plan simply didn't work, and now I'm paying for it. C'est la vie.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
