Getting older...

...is no fun. And, I know I've said that many times before.

Yesterday was an "in bed" day. My friend who cleans for me every other week was in house and cleaned while I lay in bed. She'd come in every once in a while just to see how I was doing, and her daughter (who's 10) also checked up on me several times.

I was in one of those flare-ups that laid me low, and this a.m. I woke up -- well I didn't really sleep much -- and couldn't even stand to have my blanket touching me, let alone my back against the mattress. Took my meds and I am much better.

I can't wait until I see Dr. C next week. Hopefully she'll be able to help me get fewer flares.

Alan, on the other hand, seems to be handling my "in bed-ness" fine. He says he's hungry and I say get what you want -- which isn't helpful to his diet, because he hasn't a clue what NOT to eat unless I yell at him, "Don't touch the cashews/nonpareils/trail mix/cream cheese/jelly/ peanut butter "-- take your choice. I got stocked up yesterday on GOOD things for him to munch on -- fruits mostly. The strawberries are exceptional right now, and they're sweet enough that no sugar or honey is necessary.

Hopefully tonight I'll be able to cook again. I dislike not being able to cook, because it gives me pleasure to "make up dishes" and especially giving something different to Alan. When I cook I usually "concept" what I'm going to make for a few hours before it's time to put it in the pot. Which reminds me, I need to get that small roast in the crock pot right now. Which means I'll have to add to it and Alan will have something other than an open-faced sandwich to eat.


ttfn