Waiting for Paulsen

This weekend has been a pain in the ass.

Literally.

I woke Saturday with a sharp pain in my lower back. This pain saw fit to move down to my rear end. It hurt to sit, it hurt to lie down. I just couldn’t win either way, really. Most of the time I feel like I’m fighting my own body and never coming close to winning the war.

The pain moved into my upper legs so that, very soon, it hurt to walk too. I could feel the tightness of my limbs as I moved and walked. Someone asked me the other day what Cerebral Palsy felt like. The only thing I can think of to compare it to is being out in a storm for a day and then living with the after effects.

Your body is sore, tired and feels as if it might break in two. Mostly it’s the frustration that bothers me. The frustration at having to fight something every day, at having to battle myself in order to take another step. Some days it pisses me off.

But I’m stubborn so I try not to let this bother me. I try to focus on the positive things: I have a wonderful husband. I have a fantastic family. I have a good job.

But on the outskirts of that, always waiting in the wings, is that twin. Cybil Paulsen waits patiently; perhaps his fingers are crossed, his hands clasped together in his lap. “Just keep going,” he says. “I’ll be here. I can wait.”

He’s always waiting.

For what, I can only guess. Mayhap he’ll find other things to do while I ignore him. A jab here, a pain in my shoulders, a stab in my legs, throbbing pain in my calves. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not the one who is always waiting; for the pain to come.

And so I wait for Palusen, like those before me waited for Godot, and wonder what will happen.

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About Jamieson Wolf

Jamieson an award winning, number-one bestselling author. He writes in many different genres. Learn more at www.jamiesonwolf.com
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