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7 Things Meme--day the first

*Comment to this post [and specifically ask for a list] and I will pick seven things I would like you to talk about. They might make sense or be totally random. Then post that list, with your commentary, to your journal. Other people can get lists from you, and the meme merrily perpetuates itself.*

baronernst gave me these as my seven words:

Pain
Love
Comraderie
Cinema
Popcorn Books
Style
Passion

Taking a page from my friend Ben, I'm going to do them one at a time.

Pain
This is tricky. Which kind--physical, mental, emotional, spiritual? Are they really different? That could be a whole series of journal entries all in itself. So, I'll take it in parts.

Physical pain
One of my earliest memories is of laying in my bed, late at night, and my mother rubbing my legs. I was laying on my stomach, my eyes brimmed with tears, wanting the pain to stop, wanting to sleep. The doctors told my mother it was "growing pains" and "dance classes will help." So was born my first love, my first dream--to be a ballerina, because Momma took me to dance classes--and I was good.

And the doctor was right on one score--it did strengthen my legs, which he thought might be part of the problem. But the pain continued. And so did the dancing. Until we moved. It lasted about a year, but soon Daddy got tired of getting up on Saturday mornings to take me to dancing class. Momma got me up, got me dressed, but we just couldn't get him out of bed more than half the time. So, ultimately, the dance teacher told my mother I was no longer a student at the school.

Having legs that hurt became a background noise to every day. I was told I was lazy--if I did more they wouldn't hurt. I was told I was fat (I was not svelte after 3rd grade, though by today's standards I wasn't heavy at all if the children I see in stores is a gauge), and that's why my legs hurt. Whatever. I sucked at gym, but give me a marching band, a show, and I was out there running, and kicking, and whatever it took. Did I mention "kicking"--as in "high kicks," as in Can-Can kicks? Yeah. Those.

When I was 15 we were doing Carnival in our local community theatre. I was a "Card Girl" and part of the chorus, which meant the chorus line. We were rehearsing, I was kicking, and felt something..."click." Not the good kind. Maybe I should have warmed up first, maybe nothing would have changed it. By the next day I was limping because I was having trouble picking my foot up. By that fall I had to walk with a cane. I spent most of the next 10 years with one. And pain. Debilitating, horrible pain. Where sleeping is out of the question. Where sitting is torture. Where pulling open a door brings tears to the eye and causes spots to dance before them, as prelude to falling into unconsciousness from the pain--which I don't know why I ever fought, since it would have meant at least a moment or two of relief.

But I was young, and no one really took it all that seriously. And my parents were a bit distracted, what with my brother being rather the center of attention since he was dying in slow, excruciating stages.

Once I got a job, and health insurance (thank you, Syracuse University), and some gumption, I went to an orthopedist, who sent me to a neurologist. They found out what was wrong, but said (and still say), that the odds of fixing it are not as good as the odds trying to fix it will cause paralysis. So I persevered.

And then there was the "girl pain." The "doubled-up in bed can't move" variety. And when that hit at the same time as the other peaked I, to this day, don't know how I avoided even thinking about blowing my brains out so it would all stop. That "pain tells you you're alive" crap is just that--crap. It tells you you're in pain, that you're broken, and that breathing is the hardest thing you've ever done. And you. keep. on. breathing. You don't let your body control your life, you get the hell out of bed, and go and teach your classes, and take notes in your grad school courses, and get the damn Mid-York Weekly out on time because the boss is on vacation and it's your JOB!

As time went on, by my 30s, I was in brain numbing pain most of the time. And along the way I alienated people, or did things that led them to think I was a whiny little entitled caricature from some novel, because people in pain are often, despite the best of intentions, not very nice to be around. It's not an excuse--it's just a fact.

And then my womb tried to kill me. And we made it GO AWAY.

And my back got better.

It's now no worse than it was in my teens and 20s. Which means it hurts every day. Which means I'm doing a careful balancing act between the pain in my back and the pain in my stomach from the NSAIDS. It means sitting hurts, and bending is a challenge. And walking is a careful piece of stagecraft where I try to give an appearance of normalcy to my locomotion, when in fact I don't walk like other people do since I'm partially paralyzed from the hip down on the right, and have been since 1973. But all the world's a stage, you see, and we are merely players, who strut and fret our hour and are gone, so the acting isn't really all that special.

Pain isn't all that special. I really can't imagine life without it. Perhaps it's a failure of imagination.

(And now you know why I'm only doing one at a time--hell, I've got the other varieties of pain to get through yet!;-))

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Comments

( 16 comments — Leave a comment )
papaboris
Jun. 5th, 2012 03:50 pm (UTC)
wow ,I had no clue. Thank you for sharing, you have given me a lot to think about. I knew that you were going through some pain from time to time. I could see it in your eyes , and you did not like to be touched when you were in pain.I really had no idea. I wish I could handle my pain with the grace and strength that you handle yours. You are a amazing woman.
Thank you for being my friend
ladybriant
Jun. 5th, 2012 09:04 pm (UTC)
I agree with Papa Boris! You move with such stately grace that I had no idea! I have always aspired to move with such grace as you do. You just seem to float across the floor or field.
ladybriant
Jun. 5th, 2012 09:04 pm (UTC)
oh, and may I have a list? please?
meirwen
Jun. 5th, 2012 10:51 pm (UTC)
dogs
family
bravery
creativity
trust
pasta
discipline
dagonell
Jun. 6th, 2012 08:18 am (UTC)
I had no idea. You're getting a back-rub the next time I see you. :) And a list whenever you're up to it. -- Dagonell
meirwen
Jun. 6th, 2012 09:20 am (UTC)
Thank you for the thought. But, NO ONE touches my back--the consequences are dire (as in, I collapse to the floor since the brain gets overloaded with pain input), and then the household squires/former squires get together and...well,...they do take into account whether or not the person was ever warned...honestly, since I'm usually in a pain induced fugue state at that point, I don't know exactly what it is they DO, but I've been told "It isn't pretty, and don't you bother yourself about it." When they talk like that, I usually do as they suggest. ;-)
dagonell
Jun. 6th, 2012 11:58 am (UTC)
Apologies, it sounds like you're far past the point where they do any good. Offer withdrawn. -- Dagonell
dicea
Jun. 7th, 2012 11:26 am (UTC)
Dire consequences. I've yet to meet anybody who didn't respond well to a quiet and gentle explanation of why certain choices in life are unfortunate and lead to feelings of disappointment. The key is to stop after the crying starts but before the blubbering gets going too strong.

Thank you for composing and sharing this post. I can see how easy it would be for you to focus on those who have occasionally assigned personal motivation to pain behavior, but from my point of view it is so much easier to see how many people you have taught and shown that nobility and grace aren't just things that we do when we feel good but choices that we make that allow us to function regardless of our own feelings.

When you get a chance or some thinks, I'd love some words to write from, please.
meirwen
Jun. 7th, 2012 11:15 pm (UTC)
For 'dicea
fur-babies
vegetables
song
brothers
bonding
Christ
chosen



Edited at 2012-06-08 03:24 am (UTC)
meirwen
Jun. 7th, 2012 11:23 pm (UTC)
For Dagonell
restaurant
patience
beauty
humor
home
rock
mystery

Edited at 2012-06-08 03:24 am (UTC)
(Deleted comment)
meirwen
Jun. 7th, 2012 11:17 pm (UTC)
honor
scent
leather
numbers
courage
partner
cat
anglesandlight
Jun. 6th, 2012 07:59 pm (UTC)
Humm. I am curious enough (and actually have a bit of time) to ask for topics.

When you are ready...
meirwen
Jun. 7th, 2012 11:20 pm (UTC)
texture
child
bread
build
change
football
music
(Deleted comment)
meirwen
Jul. 1st, 2012 01:07 pm (UTC)
home
Bill
music
nom
making
gaming
tomorrow
baronessekat
Jun. 9th, 2012 08:33 pm (UTC)
may I have some words please?
meirwen
Jul. 1st, 2012 01:06 pm (UTC)
puppies
Methos
photographer
food
housework
sisters
shiny
( 16 comments — Leave a comment )