I have strange reactions to things now. I know they didn't use to be this convoluted, but now my responses always seem inappropriate. Not in a grossly disturbing way, or even a comical way, just ... counter-intuitive I guess.
It's almost 11pm and I was downstairs watching tv. Monk to be precise about the show. Moments before I'd finished cleaning and changing the bandage on my arm. It's still healing. Although the process seems sort of slow, considering the shape it was in to the shape it's in now, it's a miraculous transformation. Anyway, I was watching tv, and stretched out my arm. I looked at my wrist, and I could see the bones around the joint. You know, that little nub that juts out just before the palm. I just stared at it for a second.
I could see where it was 2 months ago. I couldn't see that nub. My whole wrist and hand were purple and swollen. Like I was wearing leather gloves stuffed with cotton and dyed by a pervert. I hated looking at my hand, but it was always there. When I typed, or when I ate. When I tried to pick something up. There was a lot of trying to pick things up without looking at what I was doing. My arm could be hidden under a shirt, but my hand was always there to remind me.
The pressure was starting to build behind my eyes. The familiar warmth bubbling under the eyelids. Tears were on their way. Turning my wrist back and forth, watching my fingers move, I started to laugh. A chuckle, nothing loud enough to bother the roommates. Just a smile, and a chuckle at this aching reminder of my personal horror.
It happens a lot now. Not the reminders, but the chuckling. Smiles during "minor" procedures, or soon after them. When Darren saw me around my birthday, after the agonizing stiches in my arm, I was smiling and making jokes. Now, admittedly, that had a lot to do with Nixon being there, but I find it's common now. I'll wake up from an operation and joke around with the nurses. If no one's around I'll grin and laugh to myself. It's just how I react now.
My pain is funny to me.
I don't know what that says about me, but it seems odd. As I stared at my wrist, fighting back tears, and hearing myself laugh, it just seemed kind of odd.
It's almost 11pm and I was downstairs watching tv. Monk to be precise about the show. Moments before I'd finished cleaning and changing the bandage on my arm. It's still healing. Although the process seems sort of slow, considering the shape it was in to the shape it's in now, it's a miraculous transformation. Anyway, I was watching tv, and stretched out my arm. I looked at my wrist, and I could see the bones around the joint. You know, that little nub that juts out just before the palm. I just stared at it for a second.
I could see where it was 2 months ago. I couldn't see that nub. My whole wrist and hand were purple and swollen. Like I was wearing leather gloves stuffed with cotton and dyed by a pervert. I hated looking at my hand, but it was always there. When I typed, or when I ate. When I tried to pick something up. There was a lot of trying to pick things up without looking at what I was doing. My arm could be hidden under a shirt, but my hand was always there to remind me.
The pressure was starting to build behind my eyes. The familiar warmth bubbling under the eyelids. Tears were on their way. Turning my wrist back and forth, watching my fingers move, I started to laugh. A chuckle, nothing loud enough to bother the roommates. Just a smile, and a chuckle at this aching reminder of my personal horror.
It happens a lot now. Not the reminders, but the chuckling. Smiles during "minor" procedures, or soon after them. When Darren saw me around my birthday, after the agonizing stiches in my arm, I was smiling and making jokes. Now, admittedly, that had a lot to do with Nixon being there, but I find it's common now. I'll wake up from an operation and joke around with the nurses. If no one's around I'll grin and laugh to myself. It's just how I react now.
My pain is funny to me.
I don't know what that says about me, but it seems odd. As I stared at my wrist, fighting back tears, and hearing myself laugh, it just seemed kind of odd.
But mostly just for kicks