Pet Names for our PMR?

I'm sure most of us have used many different expletives to describe our PMR. Certainly some that can't be repeated here🙊🙉🙈

When I'm having a lousy day I use;  my master, pain in the butt and a couple of other not so polite words 😡😈

I'm looking forward to hearing some of the British terms. They are fun😀.

Hugs and thanks for the break.

Diana🌸

But I have to mention it. My condition that is. Lest people misinterpret my behaviour. I suspect they may see screaming with no apparent cause as not quite normal. I wouldn't want them to think my condition was terminal or anything too bad. Just that I'd like them to understand, or at least accept, the limitations my condition places on my daily life. I feel I owe them an explanation other than "leave me alone, it hurts".

Giving it a name seems a bit like playing medical one upmanship. My condition is one of the few disease related conditions that doesn't have a popular name, if popular is a term that can ever be applied to any condition. Its either a meaningless three letter acronym of alphabet soup or some fancy sounding latin sounding name. Its not as if its well known, where a single word conveys a wealth of meaning. It was so much easier when I could say "my back hurts".

So, not being competitive, I tend towards the amorphous and mysterious "my condition". A bit like a female condition from a bygone era, except I'm male and its now. I can dine out on "my condition" without ever giving it a name. Without ever knowing if people are too embarrassed to ask or whether they are totally disinterested and bored with my condition. Maybe they wish I would go away, along with my condition. Maybe they want one too.

I have to mention my condition early in the dining experience lest someone with a worse condition is present. My bygone age dinner table etiquette suggests that "me too" can be socially inappropriate. "My condition is quite painful" displays appropriate English reserve while allowing for the really unwelcome response of "I have two weeks to live". Difficult to then say "my condition is really quite painful". Equally it prevents the rather mundane "did anyone else get a paper cut today" beloved of those who wish to establish their important status as an office worker in a wanabe paperless office.

Its too easy to degenerate into the Monty Pythonesque cycle of one downmanship. "I caught a cold while washing dishes" sounds so much less romantic than "I was struck down by my condition while climbing Everest" which can only be surpassed by the colonial sounding "when I was in ...." and the highly improbable "I broke 47 vertebrae in my head  while making an attempt on Icarus' world solar hanggliding freefall record".

So, with just the right amount of almost embarrassment and a hint of unmentionable mystery, designed to convey an impression that its as serious as people like to think it is, it remains "my condition".

Occasionally I get exasperated and frustrated. Then it becomes "the condition". I really would like to give it to someone else. They can keep it, Its a present. Not a boomerang. I don't want it back. I know that's unkind and uncaring. But they should take my condition seriously. They obviously haven't an ounce of sympathy in their bones and deserve it. Its their own fault. Though of course I haven't done anything to deserve it. My karma has always been good. Don't they understand how long I've suffered and thus deserve to be rid of it.

Anthropomorphising my condition is one step too far for me. People are silly, people are stupid. Especially those lacking sympathy. My condition simply is. Though sometimes I think its cunning. It lies in wait, lulls me into a false confidence conjuring up images of leaping tall buildings in a single bound, only to be brought crashing down in a crumpled heap by the evil condition before even leaving the ground.

I've tried many ways of ridding myself of my condition. Enough to inspire Lady Macbeth's "Out, damned spot! Out, I say!—One, two.". But never with the apparent compulsion of rubbing away at one's hands. And fortunately never with the darker suffering of the good Lady. This damn condition of mine is invisible, it can't be rubbed out like pencil lines on paper. Why can't they see that?

Ignoring the damn condition didn't work. It only got worse. A bit in my face really, to borrow a metaphor from an alien culture. Waving my magic wand didn't work either. Though come to think of it, the wand never worked on anything. Worth a try, but no "eat your heart out Harry Potter" for me and my condition.

I don't think I'll ever see my condition as a pet, requiring a pet name. Its more of a blight on the landscape of my life. Something evil, to be cursed roundly. And sometimes loudly. A bit like a never ending earthquake uplifting my landscape  so the roller coaster becomes ever steeper and less inviting. I shan't surrender and venerate it with a name.

For sale. One f*****g condition. One careful owner. Cheap or best offer. Free delivery. No warranty. No return policy.

Sorry - the damned tablets made me do it ......