Chronic pain is like lip sweat on a hot, humid summer day. You try to wipe it off, only for it to come right back.
It’s a part of my life now. I can do things to shut it up a bit now and then, but like that annoying lip condensation analogy, it will continue to happen. Especially when I am least expecting it, naughty little thing that it is.
If I think about it as a separate object it seems to help me, if that makes any sense. (Doubtful.)
Like, hey you, pain? Sorry, were you busy making me miserable again? I really hate to interrupt.
Yes, I’m talking to you! Not only frustrating, but also rude!
You suck, man. I see you there with your teeth barred and ready to bite me in the ass. I don’t like it. Why don’t you find something better to do, like scroll Facebook? That might keep you occupied a bit while I go do something fun like take a long walk.
Ooo, what’s this?
I forget how it feels not to be in pain all of the time. I think that if I woke up and nothing ached I would shit myself.
Happily. I have plenty of wet-wipes.
I have done everything to keep it at bay. Pain pills, distraction, pot, talking to myself, making a spot of tea, sleeping, praying and talking to it (as shown above.) It is a stubborn jackass.
What it doesn’t realize?
So am I.