Saber-toothed Tiger

There is a pain management desensitization technique where I am supposed to identify pain triggers and apply some sort of positive connection to those triggers. A clever story, aromatherapy, music, you know woo-woo kinds of stuff to use as foreplay for the mindfuck that is CRPS.

I do it (I’ll do anything to try to ease this condition), and it actually does help to relax my mind just a little bit.

So, right. We have been without electricity since Sunday evening because of hurricane Irma. The stress, the heat, the stench of rotten food penetrating the door to the garage (can’t put it outside because bears. because Florida…), the fact that the only available food comes from the only place with electricity: McDonalds. It has taken a severe toll and I am in a full-fledged flare.

But wait, there’s more. The factor that is making this horrific staycation absolutely unbearably miserable is that the neighbors have a generator.

Good for them. They can shut their windows and have AC and refrigerated food.

The blasted thing has been blasting 24/7 since the neighborhood lost power. My bedroom window faces the generator’s location, about 200 feet away. But the sound… It carries. It never stops. It sounds like a giant fired up his giant-sized 30 year old push lawnmower.

The nerves in my leg are now resonating at the same unrelenting, deafening frequency as the noise coming from this goddamned generator.

How the fuck am I supposed to find something positive here? All of my scented candles (conveniently doubling as a light source) are already ablaze. My noise canceling headphones, play soft and sweet music.

But holy fiery hellballs! The flesh of my leg feels like it is being torn apart by a large, possibly prehistoric predator.

Then, the necessary imagery came to me. I am now imagining the sound of the generator is the sound of a saber-toothed tiger purring as it shreds and devours my lower right leg.


Cycling Series: Goals

Yesterday, I rode my bike three times around the neighborhood. Eight point seven miles. I posted a screenshot of my Strava on my Instagram, and in the caption I said that I hoped to break 10 miles on my next ride.


Today, I was feeling pretty good, so I took my bike out again. I went around three times, and considered a fourth. I was still contemplating when I rolled past my parents’ street.

“Well, I guess I’m doing this,” I said aloud to myself.

And then followed with a tentative “I can do this.”

And then followed with an assertive, “I can do this.”

And then I did it. Eleven point six miles.

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I set goals. I attain a goals. That’s how I roll.