Sitting on the dock of the bay

'A long long time ago, I can still remember when that music used to make me smile' ... The music still makes me smile but mostly I grimace in frustration. Arthritis or Arthur (I still feel pangs of heart break that our brave, sword wielding hero should be associated with such a cowardly condition) made the music die.

Dancing, high heels are taken away to be replaced by sitting, smiling 'no, I'm fine thanks' and nodding reassuringly.
 
Every day with Arthritis is a perfomance. I should win an Oscar, an Olivier, a Bafta for my day. No actress or actor could match this.

Wake up, rearrange crunching, cracking, screaming bones until you can sit up by grabbing the side of the mattress and hauling myself up.

Swing leg over edge of bed and grab crutches. Stand, sit back down (rinse and repeat as the shampoo says) until balance is stabilized. Hop to the bathroom, have comical moment with crutches and loo seat, return to bedroom and sit down for 10 minutes until  pain throttles back enough to be able to see straight.

Get dressed. No easy feat when you can't reach your toes - and wielding crutches set off downstairs, avoiding cats.

Make coffee, arrange pills to be swallowed and apply TENS pads to top of leg; real, not artificial - that would be daft :)

Swallow pills and crutch to the bathroom. Applying mascara is always tricky; applying it whilst holding onto crutches is a whole level of skill above that. Let go of the crutch and the hip can suddenly 'give' - the 1960's Panda Eye is suddenly a major feature of my look.

I have to get up earlier and earlier each morning to ensure that I have enough time to remove my eye make up and reapply it at least 3 times, so I leave the house looking human rather than an extra from 28 Days Later.