There is none. I must respectfully – and carefully – disagree with the Marines that pain is weakness leaving the body. Pain is the body having a temper tantrum. It overreacts [vasovagal response]. It’s bad at explaining itself [referred pain]. It’s loud and annoying and you can’t wait for it to get over itself and get back to normal behavior.
However, there is clarity in sickness. A while back, a post-root canal got infected while I was out of town by myself. Can we count how many things are wrong with that sentence? Put it this way, I was in my favorite city in the world & I came home early. That’s how much pain I was in. While I was ill, life seemed so simple. The existential voices that question my purpose in the universe and the logistical voices that worry about to-do lists were both drowned out by the one screaming voice wanting it all to STOP.


Dishes? Not even a twinge as I passed by the overloaded sink. Clothes? I just put the same barn jeans back on from the day before. Hygiene? No one’s going to see me other than Hubby & horses. They were going to have to take what they got.
As Mathilda has gotten stronger, I can leave the barn for longer. As the crisis recedes, life reasserts itself. I look around and realize that the house is in even worse shape than usual. There are blogs I need to draft ahead. There’s this cute fellow who appears to live here. Life is better now. Life is much, much better. But life is more complex than it was a week ago.