"I'm going to be a firetruck!"
Yesterday was a bad pain day. Admittedly, I could very easily be a drug addict, I take morphine for breakthrough pain which, these days, is happening more and more. I've never abused my drug privileges mostly because of the terrifying fear that one misstep with any narcotic will suddenly cause my brain to warp into a large fungal covered sponge with droopy green jell-O-like soup in which for it to stew. That fear, along with the whole 'losing-control-of-my-life' fear, have combined to make me very cautious with my medication, even on days when I wake up and just know that it's going to be a bad pain day. I can always tell, something doesn't feel right. That normal humpitude sensation on my right side somehow feels more pronounced, like a small armadillo has attached itself to my back and then died. Meanwhile that delicate area of my entire spine just aches, plain old aches, aches like an old leather shoe. I mean, metaphorically if this shoe had an entire nervous sy...