I’m in constant pain. It’s relentless. Omnipresent. I know (At least, I hope…) it will go away eventually. But that doesn’t present much solace when it feels as if someone just poked you in the forehead with a hunting knife!
It helps to know the cause. Postherpetic neuralgia, a remnant of my recent Shingles Zoster adventure. But as I mentioned above, knowing doesn’t help all that much.
Like most of us, I’m no stranger to pain. I experienced more than my share through the Chemo that started my transplant journey and the lesions that appeared in my mouth and throat. Fracturing my elbow was an adventure I would care not to repeat. Any time you break something and find yourself rolling around on the ground conjuring up images of dead relatives is something to be avoided.
As was a broken hand 55 years ago. A 5th metacarpal, or ‘boxer’s break’ that followed a physical altercation in a plumbing supply warehouse. It hurt when I fractured it and it hurt worse when the doctor set it.
That’s in addition to all the other breaks, sprains, cuts, and bruises that accompany a blue-collar life well-lived.
If you are at all engaged in the business of life, you’re going to take a hit or two. It’s unavoidable. The question is: What do you do about it?
I don’t know about you, but as much as I’d like to crawl up in a ball and quit at times. I can’t. That’s just not a part of my nature. In fact, my reaction to debilitating pain seems to be a renewed commitment to gut it out. To dig in and transcend the pain and its deleterious impact.
Don’t misunderstand… I don’t enjoy my episodes of chronic pain any more than you or anyone else does. But I’ll be damned if I will let it define me!broken boneschemolesionspain