| The goggles they do nothing! |
[Jul. 25th, 2006|10:27 pm] |
/begin trans
God DAMN I hurt.
Okay, wait. Some back story first.
I am a martial artist. I am an aikidoka. I am used to pain and degrees of trauma that most people regard as disabling or traumatizing. My knees don't work well at all, my right shoulder will have about 70% of it's full movement for the rest of my existence, and I live with aches in my shins, feet, back, hands and wrists that would send most folks to the pill-pushing, white coat-wearing, fixit-and-forgetit physician wannabes.
I am good with pain. I have to be. Pain lets me know that I'm still alive.
But tonight I have tried Tiger Balm for the first time, and with no assistance on the label, I have apparently overdosed. I tried the stuff for my right shoulder, the bad one. I spread it on, I rub it in. And I burn.
I burn with the fiery heat of a thousand suns, as though just-used motor oil has been spilled, nay FLOODED upon my shoulder. Those who have worked on their own vehicles can attest that having hot motor oil spill on you hurts like few burns in all the world. I can now attest that having Tiger Balm on you feels like someone got busy with a portable sunlamp, burned my shoulder to the bone, then spread some premium habanero oil on the burned flesh.
I burn, and I am filled with regret, fear and anticipation.
Because I'll be back here again, burning and cursing and smelling of camphor, because it makes my shoulder not hurt.
/end trans |
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