So I didn't treat myself to any of the biskuttelli, and I'm still no better. In sickness stakes, I guess there are so many people worse off than me. Mater Dei is probably full. But I'm hurting just the same. Although I would gladly trade this type of hurting for another type of hurting. This type makes me visit the bathroom very often, I think now I know the exact number of bathroom tiles because I've been in there so often. But that's ok, because it's amazing, once I'm in there the pain subsides. That is easy pain, although pain nonetheless. And at least the time between one visit and another is increasing steadily, it has now got to fifteen minutes instead of ten. That's progress.
But at times like this I think of all the other people I know and all the other people whom I don't know who are in pain; pain as in real real pain. Mostly head pain. Not headaches, but psychological pain, brain pain. And I am so thankful that my only discomfort can be cured every 15 minutes just by going into the next room. For other people it's not so easy. For them, pain is a journey, and it sucks. And they will be put on one medication, then another, then yet another, until it becomes a cocktail of medications and they're still not any better. And their only relief is pain, that is when they can actually sleep, because then insomnia becomes a very good friend. I am not anti-meds, I really believe meds can help. But with brain pain, it's trial and error. And that's not easy to live with. And it has no tangible signs, so very few people will understand. They will just utter the famous 'cheer up' which should be punishable by law. Cheer up? It's not so simple. It's not as if you've lost some hundreds or even thousands of Euro down some kind of money-sucking drain. That would be simple, so simple. But not the brain kind of pain. And although I look the other way when I come next to the psychiatric sign when I'm just in for a simple routine blood test at Mater Dei, it still stays there. And although I'm bound to get a heavy traffic penalty for looking very far the other way when I come close the most coveted chic Attard area, it's still there. And although I think that looking the other way somewhat makes it disappear, it doesn't. And I have nothing against the area, it's just that it makes me think of things so painful. And I'm so sorry although I know that being sorry is not going to help anybody.
Have to go to the next room again. What a small price to pay though.
But at times like this I think of all the other people I know and all the other people whom I don't know who are in pain; pain as in real real pain. Mostly head pain. Not headaches, but psychological pain, brain pain. And I am so thankful that my only discomfort can be cured every 15 minutes just by going into the next room. For other people it's not so easy. For them, pain is a journey, and it sucks. And they will be put on one medication, then another, then yet another, until it becomes a cocktail of medications and they're still not any better. And their only relief is pain, that is when they can actually sleep, because then insomnia becomes a very good friend. I am not anti-meds, I really believe meds can help. But with brain pain, it's trial and error. And that's not easy to live with. And it has no tangible signs, so very few people will understand. They will just utter the famous 'cheer up' which should be punishable by law. Cheer up? It's not so simple. It's not as if you've lost some hundreds or even thousands of Euro down some kind of money-sucking drain. That would be simple, so simple. But not the brain kind of pain. And although I look the other way when I come next to the psychiatric sign when I'm just in for a simple routine blood test at Mater Dei, it still stays there. And although I'm bound to get a heavy traffic penalty for looking very far the other way when I come close the most coveted chic Attard area, it's still there. And although I think that looking the other way somewhat makes it disappear, it doesn't. And I have nothing against the area, it's just that it makes me think of things so painful. And I'm so sorry although I know that being sorry is not going to help anybody.
Have to go to the next room again. What a small price to pay though.
