January 20, 2020
What a Pain
Rudy started to protest, but the woman smiled at him, and he
moved away.
She stuck out a bony hand for me to shake. “Rudy’s not a bad
guy,” she said, “He just needs a lot of attention. I’m MaryJo.”
“I’m Ken,” I said. The meeting started and we turned our
attention to the short man in a blue suit leaning on a cane. He propped his cane
against the table beside him, and gripped the podium with both hands. The microphone picked up his sharp intake of
breath as he winced in pain.
“Two tours in Iraq – not a scratch,” he said, shaking a mane
of shoulder length, gray hair. His name was Phil, and he added, “A week after I got home, I swerved to miss a
groundhog, rolled over an embankment and broke just about everything.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the
other and back again. The chairman
offered to put the microphone on a table, but Phil waived him off. “I’ll pay for this tomorrow, but tonight I won’t
let pain rule me.”
Phil had taken painkillers as prescribed for almost a year,
not mixing them with alcohol. At a friend’s wedding he discovered vodka and
opiates took away all his pain, be it physical, psychological, or spiritual. He
spiraled downward for five years, losing his job, wife, car, health insurance,
and house. Phil got sober in a homeless shelter.
His neck hurt whenever he turned his head. His hip bone hadn’t
healed right, which made walking painful.
His missing right toes itched. The
throbbing in his shoulder never stopped. Most painful of all, his ex and his
kids wanted nothing to do with him.
He ended his lead by saying, “I’ve been sober a little over
five years.” I wondered if I could manage to stay sober despite chronic pain. I
was grateful I didn’t have to.
Today I’ll be grateful for whatever doesn’t hurt.
2020 Vision ©2017 by Ken Montrose
2020 Vision is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the
characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.
Other works by Ken
Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com
https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/
No comments:
Post a Comment