Not with a bang, but with a series of whimpers

2017 wasn't a bad year for me, but it ends on uncomfortably because I have to slather myself with a prescription corticosteroid every few hours (see post below). But it seems so many people around me are suffering.

Joanna. First, she came down with a terrible chest cold that just won't let her go, and caused her to cancel her year-end visit to New Orleans (and miss her niece's wedding). Then she had to put her beloved black girlcat to sleep. Now she's had to beg out on our year-end celebration because of that tenacious cough and now a toothache. Because I'm still scratching and clawing, I'm just as happy to stay home in my pajamas and ointment. But still, I feel bad for her.

My coworker. I can't believe how her Christmas has unfolded. First her father went from California to Texas for the holidays with one of his daughters, and was promptly hospitalized with a heart attack. Then, on December 23, her mother -- long in custodial care in Los Angeles -- died. Mom's been cremated, but there has been no service because dad isn't strong enough to make the decisions. I can't imagine what this is like for her.

My oldest friend. She can no longer afford her apartment and is moving in with her cousin. I think this is a wonderful, because my friend moved from Chicagoland to California to be near her. She, however, seems to view it as yet another indication of her failure to make her life work out there.

Somehow, my itchy skin doesn't seem so bad.