When entering the bus for catching the local train to the mainstation and taking a seat, suddenly remembered how it hurt while sitting there some time ago.
When it doesn't rain cats and dogs, usually go for trains etc. by bike. So guess in order to see the surgeon I'd been riding the bus more than the last two years (or even more) before, so probably no wonder the memory keeps sticking every once in a while I do so again.
There are still two small spots that haven't healed completely yet. Still with scabs on, also used to suppurate a little bit virtually all the time. Though not really painful, more a bit annoying. And again the memories, seeing the stains on the pillow every morning.
Ouch! Still the most painful 3 weeks of my life so far.
Well, more to come pretty soon, though hopefully not like that again. Trying to brace myself, but probably not doing too well. Been in a bad mood sometimes these last days. Still doing my workouts bravely, though.
Funny, how earlier I always used to rather welcome physical pain and seldom flinching from it. Though far from being 'indolent' (still think that's a funny one). But more cause of the obvious reason, related to what I used to call 'the secret nature of pain'.
Which boils down to that the worst and most hurtful pain there is, is the pain of the soul. No physical pain I ever experienced can reach it by far. (And, though having known and seen people experiencing way other levels of physical pain and also dying from it rsp. its cause, still would say I've had my fair share of it long before this recent mishap at the beauty-farm, like broken bones not healing as they should, pissing blood, and a rather thorough collection of scars from various cuts, burns, open contusions and so on, to name but a few.)
However, and here comes the secret, despite the pain of the soul being the worst, you can always drown it in physical pain no sweat. Something I eventually learned on a conscious level at 18, soon after having lost my faith etc., thinking I just couldn't go on without.
Then suddenly remembering about 10 years earlier, lying in hospital after the first round of surgery cause of my broken arm, for some days with the needle of the drip still in the back of my hand, just in case. Till one gloriuos morning enter this nurse, starting to remove the bandage and then just ripping the needle out. Business as usual I guess, or at least that's what she probably thought before suddenly just kinda freaking out, cause with every heartbeat of mine, out of that tiny little hole came spurts of blood about a yard long, dripping over myself, the sheets, the floor and her, till eventually another nurse came running and stopped it. While I, as I have to confess, I was just having a ball, grinning and giggling at her still gasping for air. Probably even aiming at her discretely. Hey, beat the dull hospital routine every day.
Decided exactly this spot and vein would have to be it. So just went for it layer after layer, like I had learned in biology class dissecting rats. Though witha pair of scissors probably a bit blunt for this special task, but still grinding on just fine.
(to be continued)