That's the problem with any chronic condition. You go through life the same as everyone else, except... you're doing it on the high wire. Without a net. The slightest little bump, something that normal people can step right over, can stop you in your tracks.
For example - I strained my rotator cuff this morning. Not a big deal - the reason I know it is because I've done it before, and sailed through without much of a problem. Except now... I've got sleep apnea, so I have to sleep on my left side, or the mask doesn't fit properly (and if I don't wear the mask, I stop breathing approximately 70 times an hour - it's not a pleasant thing.) And of course, the strained rotator cuff is on the left hand side. I would take some acetominophen for the pain, but I'm already on Oxycodone for the crippling arthritis in my knees, which means no additional acetominophen, or my liver might explode, and I know from experience that if I take the Oxycodone after 8ish at night, I'm not sleeping. Like I said... a bump that if you're on the ground is no big deal, but from up here, it's fairly insurmountable.
Now add in the insulin-dependent diabetes, and the breathing problems, and the incurable cancer. I usually manage to keep all these balls in the air, while my little unicycle is peddling along the wire, but things are getting wobblier and wobblier. So why is it that I'm so damned resistant to asking my doctor to fill out my disability paperwork? Hell if I know - but being up at 2 in the morning by myself is definitely not the time for me to be thinking about it. Frankly, it's way too depressing when I don't have recourse to chocolate.
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