This past week, I went to work, on time, every day. Monday - Friday; 8:00 - 4:30. Every single day. I know to most people that seems like nothing. They do it every day; every week and don't think twice about it. I honestly can not tell you the last time I worked an entire week. I would either go in late one or two days or miss a day completely.
One may think how can a person be happy that they were able to work for an entire week? A day off; a few hours off every week would be wonderful. But it's not. Not when it's out of your control. Not when you're home in bed; medicated; hurting. Not when life is passing you by.
Those who suffer an invisible illness lay at home in bed wishing they could get up and go to work; while those at work wish they could go home and go to bed.
Sometimes life is indeed backwards.