Pain and The Flight of Birds

I'm sitting in my "four seasons room" which is really an add on to the house my father completed before he died. We use it all around the year which is really stupid. In the winter, it gets down to close to whatever temp it is outside. In the summer, it gets 10-15 degrees hotter than the temp outside. So keeping the slider to this room, which opens to not only the dining space/kitchen but also has another slider that opens to the deck, keeps the house in a constant state of flux.  Mimicking my state of pain on any given day.

Today is not a day of flux.

It's a day of constant growing motherfuckin' unrelentless pain. With every minute it only grows. I'm growing weary of every symptom. Trying my hardest to stay positive and hilarious in this experience. That shouldn't be difficult. It's scientifically proven that I'm hil-AR-ious. 

 I'm sitting in a semi quiet space as my head pain escalates and I ignore it while I focus my attention on the many bird calls I hear outside. I have a large backyard and many animals live in harmony here. It's quite beautiful and I am more than lucky, blessed... Whatever your moral compass is. Some days I lie on my bed and stare at the birds that collect on the deck outside my bedroom. As my pain escalates, I deep breathe, I pray, I replay certain memories that bring me joy and love. 

The pain escalates. Thoughts of percoset  are gnawing at the back of my head. 

No. 

Stubbornness wins out. For about five minutes when I have a shock of pain that feels like Someone stabbed me behind my eye while electrocuting me. And nothing short of it. 

Good times. 

As my face swells (pain does that) I hesitantly suck it up, both figuritively and literally, and take the damn pills. I both hate them and love them. They make me feel like I'm weak and that I'm never going to get better. 

This has changed. We've added to more pills onto this, wahoo!!! This is my evening snack. I take 7 in the morning and just one at lunch. So, not too bad. Then add in Percocet and injectables if I decide to take them. I'll tell you what giving yourself a map of scar tissue from injecting on your thigh is really quite a feat. Something the medics never told me would happened. 

 I think I should stop now. It's been cleansing. Writing some of the truth. I'll write more later. Let me know how you all are. I've been reading too many stories of pain, misery and death. So I'll end this on a funny note: 

Hang in there. Remember there are ALWAYS choices. 

Still searching, 

J