Wednesday, July 15, 2015

On The Suffering...

On extreme suffering...
Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life, and I'm still in it. Allergic reaction that I will never forget. 
Where the sun doesn't shine. 
Where you can't sit. 
Where you can't fathom the thought of even the softest fabric touching your skin. Where your skin looks like a chemical burn has almost removed your skin. 
Where the sun doesn't shine. 
It feels even worse than it looks. And it looks horrific. 
I don't know why my skin is so sensitive and reacts to normal products that people use every single day. For whatever reason, I know suffering in ways I wish no one did. 

I wish this was the first horrible allergic reaction I've ever had, but it's not. It is definitely the worst location I've experienced. Add it to the list of eyes swelling shut, lips the size of balloons, throat closing up, skin being burned off by tape. 

My only goal in life today, and until it's gone, is to not let the Norco wear off. Ever. 
Forever and ever.
Until red skin is back to white.
Because when it wears off, all I can do is scream through my teeth.

Tell me to choose between 1-10 on a pain scale. 
"I'll take a 12." With zero dramatic exaggerations.
I'd rather have unmedicated birth every day of this suffering instead of this. Really.
The only other time I've known pain like this is when I woke up from a knee replacement and thought my leg had been amputated, screaming into my oxygen mask until they quickly knocked me back out with pain meds. 

Suffering.

It's all relative and so many people suffer unimaginable pains. To those who have thus-far dodged the bullet of understanding pain that you aren't quite sure you'll live through- be thankful. 
And when you experience it for the first time, I'll be there. 
With understanding.

Unfortunately, my brain has a file folder marked suffering and it cannot be removed. Thankfully, after some days of steroids, pain meds, and (hopefully, please God, hopefully) healing-the file will slowly close and get pushed to the back of my brain. Hopefully to remain closed for years to come. Until I encounter the next thing that my highly allergic body labels a threat, and threatens my sanity and existence. 

To those who suffer, I'm sorry. So, so sorry. You are not alone. Allow the burn of the pain to change you, but not harden you. To open up new rooms of compassion in your heart. And when you are well enough, give. 
Always give.
Pass out hope, help, and kindness like it's going out of style.
It will never go out of style.
Even when the suffering say no.
Especially when they say no.
And chocolate. 
Pass out chocolate.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so sorry you're going through this, Jaime. Praying it clears up soon!

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