Girl I’m gonna make you sweat, sweat til ya’ can’t sweat no more…” Onegin, Canto IV

This is a reasonably accurate image of what fibrofog, the beloved mental bowel movement that the fibromyalgia sufferer enjoys, is like. There is normally a brain in there too though. Not necessarily a large one – mine is the size of a radish – but there has to be something getting all foggy and annoying.

This blog details the life of a pointless writer with an illness that he hopes will be fashionable enough one day to get him hugs from strangers (not too hard though as my bones ache).