Holy change in weather, batman!
I’ve been hurting so badly and had no idea why, until my mom reminded me that Grandpa Harold always said he knew when the weather was changing because he felt it in his bones.
And then there’s my BFF, who doesn’t have an autoimmune condition yet complains of pain and weakness in her bum knee. Poor girl. Her bum knee is the result of having an airhead for a “spotter” who let her fall and tear her ACL during cheerleading practice. In my defense, I had a Tootsie Pop in my hand. Who knows what might have happened if I’d been a good spotter? Maybe she’d have had to cut a lollipop out of her hair? Or suffered a puncture wound from that cardboard-stick thingy?
Another friend posted on Facebook about her Raynaud’s and not being able to feel her toes. And yesterday I met a woman I just met who was having trouble picking something up.
“My hands aren’t working,” she said. Mine weren’t either.