The sound of the pain is so loud. Loud? Yes, the sound of the pain is so loud. Pain isn't only something I feel in a physical sense, it's also something that blots out my other senses. Things don't taste as good when I'm in pain. I definitely notice how loud the pain is at night.
I lay in bed and the sound of the white noise machine is soothing and my baby girl shuffling and sighing in her sleep in the crib in the corner of the room. I try to focus on these noises. I try to hone in on these sounds and use them to relax, to un-tense my body, to lull myself to sleep. But the pain in louder, and before I know, it's all that I can hear in my mind. The pain creates a buzzing sensation in my body- and it's also a buzzing sound in my mind. It's a humming that I can't ignore. The throbbing and hammering as I feel the bone pain setting in - like some twisted little elf has decided to hammer away on my metatarsals, slamming my feet with a jack hammer. The muscle spasms won't be far behind, which means that my achiles tendon will be throbbing and feeling as though it's getting pulled out by a fish hook in the very near future. Suddenly my ears are swamped and flooded as though I've been sucked underwater. As my pain shoots ahead to another level, my blood pressure surges and takes off even though I try to imagine my pain in a bubble, try to imagine it drifted off and capsulated away from me. I fight to stay calm, but I lose the battle. My heart is off to the races in an effort worthy of the Triple Crown.
Suddenly it's overwhelmingly loud in my room and I'm overtaken by the wave of pain. I feel the blood dripping down my legs and I reach down to try to wipe it off, to try to see how bad it is out of habit, before I can remember that it's just the nerves playing a nasty trick on me. There is no blood dripping down, just the feeling that it is. I gently massage my calves and my arches to keep the muscles spasms as bay. I focus on my breathing and try to match it to my baby girls. I think of the places I want to visit before I die and put them in alphabetical order, and then reverse alphabetical order. By the time I do this, the whooshing and hammering and flooding and buzzing noises have subsided somewhat. I exhale slowly one more time. I purse my lips tightly as I blow out a long even breath. I am strong. I can handle this.
The night has shifted back to its normal calmness. It's quiet and peaceful. I think of my list and remember that after watching tv with my husband on Friday, I mentioned that I want to see Prague one day with him. I will have to add that to my list when I am calming myself. The only debate, do I list it by city or country? All the better to decide while I am trying to distract myself from the pain.
And now, now I'm going to lie down and start this whole process.
I lay in bed and the sound of the white noise machine is soothing and my baby girl shuffling and sighing in her sleep in the crib in the corner of the room. I try to focus on these noises. I try to hone in on these sounds and use them to relax, to un-tense my body, to lull myself to sleep. But the pain in louder, and before I know, it's all that I can hear in my mind. The pain creates a buzzing sensation in my body- and it's also a buzzing sound in my mind. It's a humming that I can't ignore. The throbbing and hammering as I feel the bone pain setting in - like some twisted little elf has decided to hammer away on my metatarsals, slamming my feet with a jack hammer. The muscle spasms won't be far behind, which means that my achiles tendon will be throbbing and feeling as though it's getting pulled out by a fish hook in the very near future. Suddenly my ears are swamped and flooded as though I've been sucked underwater. As my pain shoots ahead to another level, my blood pressure surges and takes off even though I try to imagine my pain in a bubble, try to imagine it drifted off and capsulated away from me. I fight to stay calm, but I lose the battle. My heart is off to the races in an effort worthy of the Triple Crown.
Suddenly it's overwhelmingly loud in my room and I'm overtaken by the wave of pain. I feel the blood dripping down my legs and I reach down to try to wipe it off, to try to see how bad it is out of habit, before I can remember that it's just the nerves playing a nasty trick on me. There is no blood dripping down, just the feeling that it is. I gently massage my calves and my arches to keep the muscles spasms as bay. I focus on my breathing and try to match it to my baby girls. I think of the places I want to visit before I die and put them in alphabetical order, and then reverse alphabetical order. By the time I do this, the whooshing and hammering and flooding and buzzing noises have subsided somewhat. I exhale slowly one more time. I purse my lips tightly as I blow out a long even breath. I am strong. I can handle this.
The night has shifted back to its normal calmness. It's quiet and peaceful. I think of my list and remember that after watching tv with my husband on Friday, I mentioned that I want to see Prague one day with him. I will have to add that to my list when I am calming myself. The only debate, do I list it by city or country? All the better to decide while I am trying to distract myself from the pain.
And now, now I'm going to lie down and start this whole process.
In the City the Lion sleeps
Pray to Sony my soul to keep
Were you ever so bright and sweet
Did you ever look so nice
And all the sounds
Dream for me
Semisonic - Singing in my Sleep
