Once upon a time, I loved the cold. It never really bothered me. Boy, does it bother me, now. These old bones hate it. I will complain about being too hot until my days are over, but now I complain about being cold. I complain about everything. I hate it. I'm complaining about complaining.
Still, I'm good. My pain is at a level that I can handle (Let's say 5 on the scale). As my pain specialist says, my "toolbox" is right next to me. Use whichever tool you need. I've only needed a few, today. It's a good day. Better things are on the way.