The last few weeks have been especially rough.  There was one day, in particular, during which the world seemed to be closing in on me:  I couldn't get from point A to B without above average amounts of pain.  I couldn't open jars, write for more than a few minutes at a time, or lock my finicky door.

It certainly doesn't help that the locksmith who installed the lock on my door must have been an ex-convict because he jerry-rigged this thing to be so difficult to lock/unlock that it takes five minutes every time to get the damn key to work.  I guess it's better to be safe then sorry ...

That said, I wasn't going to allow a little bit (OK, a lot) of pain stand in the way of an overbooked social schedule, with parties, dinners and celebrations to attend every day of the week.  The world kicked back into overdrive after the lull of the holidays.

As the week progressed, my limp became more pronounced.  By Friday I was outside of a club, approaching the doorman, and he said, "A man with swagger like that must be important."  It made my day!  I smiled and thanked him, and proceeded downstairs (slowly) but felt as though my pain was not for nothing after a shout out from a giant bouncer like that.

There are worse things in this world, I suppose.

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My friend Yoni, the dentist, gave me very valuable advice the other day.

He said that two weeks before I see my dentist, I should floss every day.  This essentially reverses the entire year of not flossing -- and makes the dentist think that I am.

Brilliant!

It made me wonder, Is there something equivalent I can do for my rheumatologist?

I saw him (the rheumatologist) the other day, and I got to thinking about all of the visits I've had over 15 years.

There are the good days and bad days, the ups and downs.  Some days I felt great the day I saw him, others I felt terrible.

I wish there were something I could do two weeks leading up to the visit to paint a prettier picture. Or perhaps the opposite -- to have a really bad day so he sees what they're like, firsthand, instead of listening to me try to explain what it's like.

Either way, I'm six days into the flossing.  Eight days to go!

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In a snow emergency, you'll find one thing in New York City:  some tough cookie seniors walking around.

Last week, New York City (where I live) got dumped with a TON of snow.  It doesn't happen very often, but when it snows ... it snows heavily.  A few hours after the storm obliterated the city (turning it into a serene, pretty and QUIET place), I laced up my boots, zipped up my jacket and journeyed out into the polar ice cap to investigate the damage.

I was amazed to see one thing in particular:  white snow.  (Usually it's yellow or black by the time I get to it.)  I was also amazed to see the number of senior citizens -- we're talking really old people -- going about their day with their coming and going.  That takes a lot of nerve, in my opinion, and it's reason #529 that New Yorkers are tough cookies.

Here I was, nervous that I'd fall on my butt or take an embarrassing spill trying to cross the street -- and yet these 70-to-80-year-olds were trekking through the snow complete with a D'Agastino plastic shopping bag covering their frosted hair.

I thought to myself no wonder most people their age go to Florida in the winter and then reflected on just how many people didn't and who, instead, braved the elements to get to the store or the restaurant or anywhere else they were going.

How they do it is a mystery to me.  But the fact that they're still up and at it really inspired me.  I should only be that stubborn (and foolish?) when I'm that age!

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It's officially wintertime.  Well, maybe not "officially," but definitely from the look, feel and smell of things ... it's winter.  Which means one thing in New York City:  seasonal ice skating!

I know I'm really a 78-year-old man trapped in a 28-year-old body, but the thought of ice skating is nerve-wracking!  The other day I went to an ice skating party and we all jumped on skates after one (two) drinks.  Which made things even worse!  It was as though the crowd skated in loops, while there was a different kind of loop in my head, saying, "Don't fall!  Don't break anything!  Don't fall!"

When you have arthritis, ice skating brings new meaning to the "walking on thin ice" analogy -- I was petrified of getting hurt (and looking stupid ... which, obviously, was more important at the time).  Holding a girl's hand while I skated didn't make it any easier.

But at least it made me focus on something other than getting hurt.  For 30 seconds.

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Last week I traveled to Italy to see what all the hype was about (mainly around the food!).  I got a "pass" from the family Thanksgiving (definitely cleared it first with the senior officers) and traveled abroad to take in the history (about which I am a giant dork) and the pasta (about which I have a borderline eating disorder).

There's something fascinating about Europe and I notice it right away every time I visit.  There is a suspicious lack of people limping around or in wheelchairs.  I can't understand why and I always find it a little unsettling.  Where is everyone with arthritis?  Or with other mobility issues for that matter?!

To prepare for my trip, I conditioned myself with a little bit of extra stretching in the days leading up and sprung for a new pair of comfortable walking sneakers.  Apparently, as an aside, Americans are the only people into the super-white sneakers -- so needless to say I stuck out in my shiny brand new Nike Kicks.  But it didn't bother me a bit because at least I was comfortable.  (And no, I didn't wear a fanny pack.)

The walking was definitely a challenge at times, especially because the roads and sidewalks are so uneven and require a lot more diligence to manage.  In their defense, these roads -- in Rome at least -- are thousands of years old, so I'll cut them a break.

I also talked with some locals about the state of care there and the way they perceived medicine and health care.  It simply confirmed my suspicion that the U.S. is great at a lot of things, but taking care of our sick hasn't been on that list lately -- either here within our system or abroad from a foreigner's perspective.

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