The Language of Pain

The Twin is back.

I knew he would not be able to stay away for long, that his quietness would eventually end. I did not expect it to be quite so painful.

I have had trouble walking all weekend. Almost from the moment I would start walking, my legs muscles would begin to harden, to seize up and form themselves into Elephant Man legs.

Hot licks of pain flash across the bottoms of my feet with each step I take. I can feel my feet swelling, my ankles twice their normal size. Even as I type this I can feel throbs of pain stabbing in my right shoulder which still is not right.

I wondered the other day whether or not my body was using pain to talk to me; whether or not pain was the only language that my body could communicate in.

I wondered whether my body was trying to tell me something and that, if I put the puzzle pieces together, I could understand what it was trying to tell me.

I ponder this as I take a Motrin and try to count through the pain.

1-2-3-4-5, breathe in, 1-2-3-4-5, breathe out.

Perhaps the cure for pain can be found in the beauty of breathing and contemplate my legs, hard as stone and knotted like tree trunks.

About Jamieson Wolf

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