My brother introduced me to a new word yesterday, “Optirectimitis.” Simply put, optirectimitis is a connection between your eyes and your butt and accounts for a shitty outlook. Right off the bat, I fell in love with the word.
I’ve been fighting my shitty outlook and having survived Covid should be winning. I’m not! One of the benefits of my Covid infection was the effect of the steroids my doctors put me on. For 1 week, my back felt great, my legs fatigued less, my joints moved with relative ease, my trigger finger stopped triggering and my energy level increased considerably.
Unfortunately, I cannot take steroids long term. Long term steroids are fraught with problems including diabetes, osteoporosis, and hypertension amongst others. This is one of those times when life is just not fair. Steroids giveth and taketh away. Coming off steroids has given me optirectimitis, causing my newly minted shitty attitude.
So, what’s a guy supposed to do? Medical marijuana seems to help both the pain of arthritis, symptoms of Parkinson’s and shitty attitudes but is illegal in North Carolina. It also seems to adversely affect memory. Again, marijuana giveth and taketh away.
Non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, like Aleve, help some but give me indigestion. Exercise helps some but it is hard to get motivated to exercise due to pain. Narcotic pain medications are completely out of the question. While they are addictive, living with chronic pain and disability is no way to live. So, being addicted to pain relieving meds can’t be all bad, can it? In the eyes of the law, it is bad. Over the last few years, there has been a war on narcotics and most physicians I know are hesitant to prescribe them. Regardless, narcotics don’t agree with me, worsening my constipation and fuzzing my brain.
As you can see, there is no good solution. So I’ll count my blessings and concentrate on what doesn’t hurt (my right big toe), watch a comedian or two and eat some junk.
Here’s your joke for the day:
A wife sent her husband a romantic text message… She wrote: “If you are sleeping, send me your dreams. If you are laughing, send me your smile. If you are eating, send me a bite. If you are drinking, send me a sip. If you are crying, send me your tears. I love you.” Her husband texted back: “I’m on the toilet, please advise.”