Last night something happened to me that seldom
happens. I was sick, painfully sick.
I was going to say sick as a dog but I’ve noticed that dogs are hardly
ever sick. They can eat a decaying hotdog out of the garbage, lick some
slurpy liquid off the sidewalk and still dance around and chase a stick until
your arm comes out of its socket.
I was in such discomfort that I begged God to
help me. I writhed in pain - how
do you writhe in pain? You turn hither
and yon and rub where it hurts and stretch out and do it all again - and then I
said, “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Help me.”
Why would I think that after months, maybe years of no direct
communication, God would drop everything at 2 a.m. on a Friday night and say,
“Rise, take up your pallet and walk” But you know what? God did help me. I took three sequential baths and walked
around and got out my hot water bottle and did a few other things that are too
gross to mention. Finally, soaking wet
from my third bath, I wrapped myself in a big towel and got in bed. I
tried my breathing technique and finally fell asleep. When I woke up four hours later, the pain was
gone. I still felt very tentative about
my stomach but I could manage it and I could walk around without wishing I was
dead.
The takeaway here (besides God) is that sound,
as in SOUND, even whining sound is very helpful when you are in pain.
Feel free to talk out loud about how much it hurts. Oh, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Groan and
say oh, no, oh, no. oh, no. Fortunately, I live alone.
I thought I should write this all down in case
you are ever in that situation.
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