I keep trying to write about pain, but each time I do, I feel as if it only comes out sounding like a personal "pity party"--a phrase I particularly dislike. However, I wanted to try again.

I hurt all the time. Period.

If it is not arthritis, then it is MS. If not MS, then arthritis. And if it is not both, I am probably having pulmonary discomfort, though I admit that is much less common than the other two reasons.

For this fitness team stuff at work, I had to choose two goals. Mine were Dr. Pepper and stretching, as I mentioned previously. Well, I treated this week as a practice week, although the real practice week, as it turns out, does not start until Monday. I did not do so well with either steps or water. Stretching ought not to be considered.

The great health personnel overseeing the program determined that I should be drinking 100 ounces of water per day for "proper hydration." I stink at getting 16 down (0r whatever is in an average bottled water bottle). Water just does not taste very good to me. Plus, I get so involved in what I am doing that I find myself drinking only at meals. I have milk for breakfast, milk for lunch, a Dr. Pepper for dinner, and a small glass of Gatorade at snack time. I keep a bottle of water at my desk and try to drink it during the day, however it usually lasts several days if not the work week.

I did try the stretching, but I have only done it two days out of six. It is too painful. I am a wimp. I am a wimp even knowing that if I could find a way to push through the first few weeks, it would get better.

So, how is this about pain? I hurt all the time, even when trying to do something to have a more healthy lifestyle.

When I get up in the morning, I have to steel myself again the pain I will feel when I place my feet to the floor and bear my weight for the first time. It is as if I am standing on knives. I am also stiff and have to loosen up before I can move freely without pain.

When in a car, after a half hour of driving, I stiffen up and have difficulty exiting the vehicle. After an hour, I am in pain. After two, I am in agony. I have tried driving with pillows and moving as much as possible whilst remaining safe behind the wheel, but nothing seems to help. My back, knees, wrists, ankles, and hips protest rather vehemently my exit from the vehicle. The more I move about, the pain subsides. However, after long drives, the time it takes for the pain to do so is far longer than I would wish. I should also add that when I moving about, pushing through the pain, I have a slight tendency to be grumpy. Okay...perhaps more than slight. Sometimes I wonder that B does just through me out of her house when I arrive because instead of greeting her with the enthusiasm that reigns in my heart, I grunt hello, trying and unload the car as fast as possible, settle my pets, and then fervently hope I will feel better soon. My thoughts are mostly about me and little about her.

Sitting at my desk or in a conference chair for long periods also results in pain (and grumpiness). Riding on a plane or car hurts. Meetings hurt. Not moving for extended periods of time hurts.

Standing for extended periods of time hurts. My lower back stiffens in a different way than it does when sitting. Sometimes it feels as if it is a cramp and I try to bend over or raise one leg as if it is on a step to relieve the painful pressure. Standing for an extended period of time also hurts my feet. No matter the type of shoe or cushion sole insert, the pain begins. It is difficult to shift my weight from foot to foot because my left ankle has not healed fully from the fracture of two years ago. I can, briefly, have my full weight on it, but I cannot raise myself with that ankle at all and have to be careful when I try to stand on my tiptoes that my right foot is bearing most of my weight.

Going up and down stairs hurts. If it is not one set of muscles, it is the other. Muscle fatigue happens so very quickly. In addition, that pesky ankle makes navigating the steps downward rather risky at times. Finally, negotiating stairs upward--usually more than a single flight, but sometimes just one--finds my breathing labored and painful.

Putting my legs up for extended periods of time hurts. I have to be careful about how the weight of my legs is born. For example, I cannot have my ankles bear the weight because they become quite painful and stiff and tears will spring to my eyes when I try to move my legs. I usually try to have my calves bear my weight, but I have to do so with my knees slightly bent. I have to do so because all my joints save for my shoulders need to be slightly bent or they will hurt.

When I lie in bed, I have to have my legs bent, elbows bent, wrists bent, and fingers slightly cupped in order to be pain free. This is most easily done lying on either side, but if I do so, then some nerve in my arm is pinched, which eventually simultaneously deadens my skin, stiffens my hands, and awakens me with severe pain. I will turn to the other side or try to get myself all bent but still lying on my back. If I lie on my back, though, my lower back will stiffen up and become painful. I also have to be oh so very careful that my neck is supported since I tore the muscles in my neck in college and can get lingering cramps if I do not have the pillows just perfect. And they must also raise me up some so that I can breathe more freely while lying down.

I also have pain in my hands. They cramp severely after just short periods of repetitive motion. Washing my hair hurts. Brushing my hair hurts. Blowing it dry is out of the question.

Unloading the car and carrying groceries results in pain. B knows I prefer to shop for my groceries a month at a time, but I wonder if she connects that fact with how much it hurts me to do so. The weight of the bags hurts my elbows, wrists, and hands. Holding heaving things, even something as small as a ream of paper makes it hard to breath. Doing my one-trip-from-the-car nonsense compounds the pain, but then it is over quickly.

I could go on, I suppose. But I hope I have made my point. Living hurts. That is my excuse for being so poor at my therapeutic stretching exercises. It is a feeble excuse. After all, I ought to be used to pain. I do have that oh-so-wonderful-drug Celebrex that battles the general arthritis pain quite magnificently. Without it, I couldn't function, I couldn't work. In fact, I couldn't imagine life without it. However, it can only do so much. Far more often than I care to admit, I supplement that drug with copious amounts of Ibuprophen, but I have tried to be better about that of late.

My two thoughts about the stretching, other than why put myself through that suffering, are to somehow gather my courage to try acupuncture one time or to try having someone massage my legs before or during the time I tried stretching. However, both options costs money. The first would also entail conquering fear and trying to figure out how to determine who might be a good acupuncturist and the latter entail trying to figure out the logistics of getting a massage and then stretching right then and there instead of having to get back into a car and end up stiffening up before I could get home or finding someone willing to massage my legs while I tried stretching.

Too much thought.

Too much pain.