38 Pain and %$#@* Pain
Before this accident, pain was a pretty one-dimensional term to me.
Through this experience, the word pain not only took on multi-dimensional meaning but I personally identified about a dozen different types of pain.
Take for example the pain that enveloped me that second night home, a delirious pain. Even though the pain in my leg was sharp, I was in a delirious state of pain for hours, hung between two worlds. My being was haunted by weird dreams even though I was not even really asleep.
I was only able to sleep about one to two hours a night for the next five nights. Nor could I nap more than ten minutes during the course of the day.
Even though I would attempt to go to sleep at ten or eleven at night, even if I successfully dozed off. I would wake up screaming with intense pain at 12:30 a.m., like clockwork.
Of course this woke up my hosts who would come in and try to offer some comfort. Dr. Arias administered different shots to try to calm the pain and get me back to sleep, but it seemed that nothing he experimented with worked.
One morning before he left for work, he came in to tell me that the night before he and his wife had heard me repeating a phrase in Italian over and over again for several straight hours. The phrase was, “Non existe questo dolare!” which basically means, “This pain doesn’t exist!”
Apparently by saying this over and over again, in a kind of delirious state, I was attempting to rebuke both the physical and spiritual and emotional pain that was bombarding me.
I’ve heard it said, “There's pain, and then there's %$#@* pain!”
I think I’ve experienced the latter.
Through this experience, the word pain not only took on multi-dimensional meaning but I personally identified about a dozen different types of pain.
Take for example the pain that enveloped me that second night home, a delirious pain. Even though the pain in my leg was sharp, I was in a delirious state of pain for hours, hung between two worlds. My being was haunted by weird dreams even though I was not even really asleep.
I was only able to sleep about one to two hours a night for the next five nights. Nor could I nap more than ten minutes during the course of the day.
Even though I would attempt to go to sleep at ten or eleven at night, even if I successfully dozed off. I would wake up screaming with intense pain at 12:30 a.m., like clockwork.
Of course this woke up my hosts who would come in and try to offer some comfort. Dr. Arias administered different shots to try to calm the pain and get me back to sleep, but it seemed that nothing he experimented with worked.
One morning before he left for work, he came in to tell me that the night before he and his wife had heard me repeating a phrase in Italian over and over again for several straight hours. The phrase was, “Non existe questo dolare!” which basically means, “This pain doesn’t exist!”
Apparently by saying this over and over again, in a kind of delirious state, I was attempting to rebuke both the physical and spiritual and emotional pain that was bombarding me.
I’ve heard it said, “There's pain, and then there's %$#@* pain!”
I think I’ve experienced the latter.
Labels: broken leg; pain; delirious;
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