I come around all broken down and
And you're a comfort
Sometimes the place I go
Is so deep and dark and desperate
I don't know, I don't know
Every day, every day
You save me
Every day you save my life.
Okay, now some folks are singing that about Jesus and some are singing that about their significant other, but I'm singing it about the wonder drug LYRICA.
It's the definitive drug for fibromyalgia pain, which isn't affected by normal pills like Advil or Ibuprofin or Vicodan or Demerol or Opium. I love it and I say it saves my life. Every Day.
But there's just this one thing that bothers me about Lyrica: THE COMMERCIALS.
The ones on television depict a spiffy middle aged woman prancing around in a flea market with a big heavy bag slung over her shoulder. Or dancing into the wee hours with the ubiquitous grey haired man who in real life would just be GAY he looks so good. Or standing in a windy field of daisies leaning on a white rail fence jabbering on about how she has just hoofed it over 40 acres with her mule. That's right, 40 acres and a MULE.
I think they should show it like it really is: Every day it's like somebody took one of these:
and pulverized the hell out of every soft tissue and muscle in my body. Every day. And I mean beat me up good, too, not some light percussion massage.
So when I saw this latest print ad I laughed in Wild Peals of Angry Mirth...
Because I'm like: PUSH PINS????? PUSH PINS????? Is this somebodys idea of an understated joke? Because for ME, what is sticking into my feet all over are THESE:
And it feels like THIS:
And what's worse? I have to WALK AROUND LIKE THAT.