I've been in a fibro flare for about 3 weeks now, pretty much since we started our great indoor painting project. (Those who are considering such a project, be prepared for the possible consequences. Paint is highly toxic, as is the chaos that is part and parcel of such an endeavor. yuck.) I will NEVER do this again. Ever. I don't know what I'll do when we replace the carpeting in the living room and the hallways. Leave home, maybe? The project is nearly finished, thank God, but unfortunately, so am I. I skipped my yoga class last night, because by the time I began my drive home from work, I was having tremors from the pain, and it was painful just to hold the steering wheel. Pain level at about 8 or so by the time I got home. This is the worst it's ever been, I think, or at least as far as my hole-y memory remembers. I'm at work now because I'm foolish and it's easier to be here than not, but I don't know if I'll make it through the whole day. The tremors are back, I've not taken any medication yet, and even when I do it's a half dose of Darvocet because I have a half hour drive home. I also need a clear head at work. Not sure how clear my head is with this pain, though, or if I'm a liability rather than an asset for my students. I'm praying for a quiet day. I know no one has any miracles for me. Maybe just venting will help, as I know everyone here knows what I'm talking about. Next week is spring break. Thank God. I may live. Peace, Beth.