You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘pain’ tag.

This past week I fell out of a chair and into a bucket.

There was nothing extraordinary going on at the time – like I wasn’t making an attempt to test the limits of physics or anything. I simply reached back to grab a piece of paper on a table. Next thing I know I’m half-sitting in a bucket with my back and head against the wall. There were onlookers present, of course: a preschooler and the graduate student I was “supervising” (Har!). Both stopped what they were doing to gawk at me. I continued to sit in the bucket while they continued to stare at me well past the time that was comfortable for any of us.

The preschooler was the first to point out matter-of-factly, “You fell out of that chair.”

“Yes, I did.” I said with a little half-giggle.

“Are you ok?” The graduate student asked.

“Yes.” I lied, while continuing to sit in the bucket.

Truth be told, it hurt and I wasn’t ready to move yet. Plus having them stare at me was awkward, so I grabbed the piece of paper I had been reaching for and pretended to read it from my bucket perch.

When it became clear that I wouldn’t be following the bucket trick with a spectacular encore, or any further commentary, my audience went back to what they had been doing.

Eventually I got up.

I’m mostly ok, though my back has felt a bit bojangled ever since the incident.  But I’m really proud of the bruise that is spreading in sunset-hued splendor across my outter thigh.  No joke, it’s fantastic–everyday a different color. Yesterday it was mostly black with a splattering of angry red. Today it’s a splotch of midnight purple fading to a bluish-yellow haze around the periphery.

When I roll on my left side at night, the bruise wakes me with a blare of pain, shocking me in the wee hours of the morning into a sensibility that I’m injured, that something significant happened, and that it is happening still as my body forces me to be more conscious, so it can heal itself.

It’s the sort of pain that’s almost pleasant.

 

 

 

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Archives

tonysbologna : Honest. Satirical. Observations

Honest. Satirical. Observations.

Hate to Love You (Reviews)

All My Charms are Wards

Celestial Goodness

This is a space of love and positive vibrations. It is a safe space for uplifting one’s soul.

John Wreford Photographer

Words and Pictures from the Middle East & Balkans

Artistcoveries

Discovering the joy of art

OCA learning log

Carlota Betlinski

P e d r o L

storytelling the world through travel & books

Before I Forget

STORIES WITH NO BOOKS

BEN TROVATO – Durban Poison

Columns. Letters. Rants. Stuff.

Stitched in Stone

Based on True Wives Tales

THE GODDESS ATTAINABLE

The Goddess Attainable Blog is an inspirational portal for a goddess way of life.

The Druid Herbalist

An ongoing journey with the healing power of plants

The Fledgling Belly

The Adventures of a Discerning Bellydancer

It's Just Life

Finding the Extraordinary in the Ordinary

Down the Forest Path

A Journey Through Nature, its Magic and Mystery

Project: Motion Blog

Modern. MOVEment. Memphis.

The Human Rights Warrior

"There is some good in this world...and it's worth fighting for." ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

The Tragic Life of Frank

Around five minutes ago I had this sudden revelation; that my life is quite sufficiently, tragic.

zona pellucida

...blinded by the light

Donna Mejia

Dance Artist/Scholar/Cultural-Creative

Beautiful Day Traveler

It's a beautiful day to dance with words on this journey called life.

shimmymobmemphis

dancing to change the world

samrarose

Just another WordPress.com site

Peaceful Hands Reiki

Where love flows

Job & Career News

From the Memphis Public Libraries

LibrarianShipwreck

"More than machinery, we need humanity."

couldreads

I read these books and you could too?

Mark Coakley

Author of "Hidden Harvest" and "Tip and Trade"

Garden Variety

A Gardening, Outdoor Lifestyle and Organic Food & Drink Blog

CultFit

Form, Flow and Grace