Sundays are always difficult. After 45 minutes of sitting through church my back starts to hurt. Yesterday it was especially painful. By the time I finished teaching my little 5-year-old Sunday School class I could hardly walk. All I could think of is getting home to my heating pad. My heating pad is my drug of choice. I have to have it, can't live without it. At times it means more to me than my own children. Yesterday it wasn't working for me. I was actually in tears. I had to step it up. My husband had accidentally bought Tiger Balm patches which he dug out of the medicine closet. He slapped one on my back and within 20 minutes I was sleeping like a baby. After a 2 hour nap I felt wonderful. My addiction to the patches has begun.