only what i can do.

On days like today, I hurt. I can't turn my head to the left or right. I can't take a breathe without wincing. I can't cook pancakes for my boys, I can't go for my jog, I can't stand, can't sit, can't lay. I am bursting with agony and discomfort. There is not a thing anyone can do.

After a while--maybe because of the immense fatigue that comes with high amount of physical pain--the stabbing feeling just IS. It is there. It is huge. It is not leaving. I accept this, though I don't know how. It's amazing what the human body can physically adapt to. I hurt therefore I am.

There is only what I can do: sit and hurt. Lay and hurt. And watch my boy play blocks. That is all I can do, right now, in this moment. Watch. Notice that his hair is turning the exact same shade mine was when I was small. Notice that he can now write the word "the". Notice that he can get himself a yogurt from the fridge or a pear from the fruit bowl.

I cry. Sometimes in privacy, sometimes out in the open. Pain will lay waste to inhibition, will devastate pride. I have no pride anymore.