Or not. It’s not, actually. Been going well, that is. After becoming just a mass of pain and virtually non-functioning, I have gone back on the Prednisone. Started Sunday, and am actually somewhat better. Less pain, more function, not sleeping most of the time. It keeps getting harder, though. Harder to cope, harder to manage, harder to just be alone all the time. Sometimes it just seems as if there is no point to anything. I’d really like to be somewhere there was someone who cared about me, but that place does not exist. Oh, well.