I once read that for life to be rewarding, one's problems should be fresh and of high caliber; those old, stale ones have simply got to go. To that end, sometimes we make up our own just to keep things interesting. For example, until yesterday my biggest problem was being housebound due to my recent hip surgery which kept me a hobbled invalid dependent on the kindness of others for almost any little thing. Then yesterday, sick of my infirmity, I grabbed my keys, shuffled out to my car and got behind the wheel, then drove to the post office to mail some letters and buy stamps. I was liberated! I felt overwhelming joy! I was back in the world!
Twenty minutes later I was back on the couch, resting on my laurels, when I noticed some itchy red spots on my "good" leg. These soon morphed into gigantic welts, or wheals, obviously caused by hives. Whether they came from eating too many strawberries or were the result of anxiety, by all accounts they were of my own making. By nightfall I was a miserable wreck of a person, the itching unbearable, unstoppable and preventing sleep. My "bad" leg had become my "good" leg!
Hip replacement surgery a dim memory, these hives are simply awful and painkillers don't help. I can't wait for them to be gone, although I shudder to think what's next.