Creaking Like a Rusty Gate

Let's not beat about the bush. The crafting side of life has ceased to exist. Apart from the few poppies that the Craft Coven have whisked up, there is no crocheting or knitting flying through my fingers and it sucks...BIG time. This is no creative lull, it's an all out bloody crisis. Not only am I being treated for Rheumatoid Arthritis, not yet confirmed but my Dr appears to enjoy using me as a guinea pig where stupid drugs are concerned; but after an appointment with a specialist (finally) it is now thought that I have Fibromyalgia! Oh deep joy. Is this Karma? (thanks Blimp you bitch) or is it just crap luck that at 45 I have constant joint and muscle pain? I won't ask what I did to deserve this as I'm sure there are several (hundred) people out there who's arms will shoot in the air ready to give an answer. I'm never going to run a marathon or get anywhere fast and my days of making stuff are numbered thanks to hands and fingers that won't work. Does this get me out of making any more shitty, white, flouncy baby blankets? Yes - it can't all be bad then. I can live with this shit providing it's with humour. It's harder living with some peoples patronising attitude that it'll 'all be fine in a few weeks'. My answer to that is google it and then come back and tell me it's gonna be fine. Where's support when you need it? Running down the road at break neck speed probably. My one saving grace is a bunch of like minded 'geeks' who go by the collective name League of Extraordinary Penpals (LEP to those in the know.) If it wasn't for the re-discovery of the joy of penpals, the warped humour and mindless discussions about anything from the meaning of life to your favourite pen on our FB page or the endless stream of letters crashing through my letterbox and the support of strangers....I can safely say I would go mad.I need a new creative sideline. I wonder if I could paint masterpieces by lodging a paintbrush in my bellybutton?