Wow! Here we are. Blog number three. This is happening. I’m excited. Hopefully, this post is not the Bad Things Come in Threes equivalent of finding someone else’s hair in your soup.
Yep. I’m that girl. The one who gets the soup hair. Every. Single. Time. I’m not even looking for it. I’m just THAT lucky.
Oh, God! Now I’m gagging. Soup hair is gross. Trust me.
When you’re the genetic equivalent of a walking, talking bag of pain, sometimes life sucks.
There’s no sugar coating it.
Scratch that. Yes, there is. I stumbled along that road for the last 24 years. I’m fine. Things are great! Never better, how about you? Oh, this limp? Just a little hip malfunction, no big deal.
Well, yes. YES, IT IS a big deal.
In fact, it’s Ankylosing fucking Spondylitis and I’ve been walking around undiagnosed and in physical freaking pain for freaking ever. How you doin’, eh?
Why? Why? WHY do we downplay or symptoms and suffering? Who are we trying to impress with our stoicism in the face of debilitating pain? Who are we trying to protect from the aches that accompany us daily? Or, has it simply been drilled into our malfunctioning brains that – I’m great, thanks for asking – is the standard (read polite) response to the question, how are you?
No matter the reason. It needs to stop. I need to stop. Or maybe, we need to stop asking the question if we don’t necessarily want to hear the real answer.
Oh, hey! You-hoo, Edith. Hi! *Quick hug that hurts the Fibro tender points in my shoulders. Oh, my God, it’s been too long. How are you?
Well, I’m about to pass out from the effort it’s taking to stand upright on my shitty-ass pins to talk to you, but other than that, I’m great. How are you doing? How’s it going with your Avocado Life blog?
*Insert sound of crickets here.
Personally, I think it would be fucking hilarious if chronic pain sufferers went around telling the truth.
Friends, family, and near acquaintances on the receiving end…probably, not so much.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, there’s definitely a way to be more graceful about expressing our thoughts, feelings, and pain levels in a way that doesn’t elicit shocked looks and blank stares.
But where’s the fun in that?
And besides, I’m done pussy footing around, damn it. I’m in pain. Full stop.
So the next time we meet in the Walmart parking lot and I have a cart full of crap I didn’t need, but the price was right, and this and that was super cute, and no fifteen black sweaters is not fourteen black sweaters too many. Maybe ask me if I need a hand loading bags into my trunk. I’ll probably say, no…I’m good, but why don’t we meet for lunch later and we’ll drink margaritas, discuss the health benefits of eating avocado, and talk trash about our significant others.
Now that sounds like a rockin’ good time.
How do you handle the well intentioned how are you questions? Have a great line to share? Drop it in the comments below. As you can see…I need all the help I can get!
Until the next blog – peace out pain sufferers.
Current pain level 8/10.