uh, guys? the whole world is still watching.
This here post is about pain. For one thing, it happened again. For another, I spent a whole day this week trying to accurately capture in pixels what I did to my finger. (It's not gross, if you're squeamish like I am - just a bruise.) But no matter how impressive and purple and yellow the bruise looked in the shower, by the light of day it was nothing. So, sorry, no finger-joint bruise pictures.
So, I spent another hour last Saturday locked in the bathroom of the pharmacy, begging God to kill me or whatever one does when one is in that much pain. No, I wasn't begging God to kill me -- from what I remember, I tend to take a practical approach, and meditate on how in seriously, like, an hour I won't be hurting like this. I check my watch and say things like, oh hey! That was 10 minutes! Wow, this will be over in no time!
Then there are the chants, which range from a nonsense phrase meant solely to express suffering, to the down-to-earth I just have to get through this, to the more basic repetitive o-kay, o-kay, I'm-o-kay, I'm-o-kay. That one also involves rocking.
This time my arms were tingling, really really tingling, from about my biceps to the tips of my fingers. I don't remember that from before. That, plus the way my entire body was in pain made the whole experience profound. All I could do was experience the pain. It was diffuse, it was my whole self.
How can childbirth be worse than this? If it was all I could do to keep from blacking out during this, how to women stay conscious during labor? This is one of the things I thought about. If I hadn't been afraid to die alone and childless and PhD-less on the floor of a pharmacy bathroom from choking on my own vimit, I would've happily given up consciousness. If on the other hand I was surrounded by competent professionals and loved ones, I'd pass out after the first contraction. Hey y'all, wake me when it's over.
I passed out in Belize. I did the, "Hey, So-and-so, I don't feel so-" CLUNK thing. I was disappointed when they woke me up, because I'd been remembering some scene from when I was a kid and the whole family was sitting around the living room. It was nice.
Is this what alcoholics are after? If so, I finally, totally understand.
So, I spent another hour last Saturday locked in the bathroom of the pharmacy, begging God to kill me or whatever one does when one is in that much pain. No, I wasn't begging God to kill me -- from what I remember, I tend to take a practical approach, and meditate on how in seriously, like, an hour I won't be hurting like this. I check my watch and say things like, oh hey! That was 10 minutes! Wow, this will be over in no time!
Then there are the chants, which range from a nonsense phrase meant solely to express suffering, to the down-to-earth I just have to get through this, to the more basic repetitive o-kay, o-kay, I'm-o-kay, I'm-o-kay. That one also involves rocking.
This time my arms were tingling, really really tingling, from about my biceps to the tips of my fingers. I don't remember that from before. That, plus the way my entire body was in pain made the whole experience profound. All I could do was experience the pain. It was diffuse, it was my whole self.
How can childbirth be worse than this? If it was all I could do to keep from blacking out during this, how to women stay conscious during labor? This is one of the things I thought about. If I hadn't been afraid to die alone and childless and PhD-less on the floor of a pharmacy bathroom from choking on my own vimit, I would've happily given up consciousness. If on the other hand I was surrounded by competent professionals and loved ones, I'd pass out after the first contraction. Hey y'all, wake me when it's over.
I passed out in Belize. I did the, "Hey, So-and-so, I don't feel so-" CLUNK thing. I was disappointed when they woke me up, because I'd been remembering some scene from when I was a kid and the whole family was sitting around the living room. It was nice.
Is this what alcoholics are after? If so, I finally, totally understand.
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