pain room blogish


Telling It Like It Is (some nights)

BEDTIME ACCOMMODATIONS Shrink sock on my stump glasses on the night table gauntlets on my wrists and forearms mouth open meds riding the water slide of my throat mouth-guard so I don’t grind all night. Richard Hines Photo There I said said, a diaper around my bottom like the cartoon of a New Year’s baby

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Pain & Death on Sunday

“Stay safe and stay positive.” So I’ve heard. Just take a look around; let’s just be, be breathing and be in any moment we choose. Tell you what. I’ll bring the darkness, you bring the candle to light. These two short poems are by Charles Bukowski. Check out my first annotation (getting its own page)here.

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excerpt form pain room

FRAGMENT Pain. My feet, up my legs, my hips, my back, my hands No longer hold, fuck the centre, when eating hot dogs fails To raise my spirits I can confirm we and that includes me Were born to die. Not soon enough for some and that includes me Unable to find a painless posture

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REPRISE: BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTER B

Some Assembly Required First Published: September 24, 2020 This video will be publicly accessible until Thursday, November 12.   MY LIFE IN PIECES is a videocast autobiography in ten minute instalments, now going up as a separate page on my website and Patreon site. Pieces is a rolling story picking up fragments of my life,

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Our Bodies, Our Pain

Showing our pain, our selves We start by showing our pain to our parents and our partners. At first, it’s easy. We take our skinned knee inside and one of our parents gets a Band-Aid for our boo boo, wipes the grit away. Some antiseptic, and the bandage will protect us, especially once we have

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Concerning Choice, Acceptance, and Disability

Author’s note: This is my story. Many people feel and think quite differently than I do. I believe it’s necessary and important to make room for diverse and multiple narratives of pain, suffering, mental illness, and disability among ourselves and visible to the public. I had a hot button pushed (of course like most I

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FLUBBING AN INTERVIEW

I was on CBC RADIO NOON, but couldn’t “find” my words. This is really frustrating and why I call the longer essay Pieces Of My Mind, as my words and my thinking feel like scattered pieces, and yes, I’m mad as hell about it. Let me see …how about a do-over.[1] Write it out.   

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My Right Foot

For one brief moment I thought my uric acid levels had regained acceptable levels, so stopped taking my Allpurinol medication. A week or so later this is what my remaining foot looked like. My uric acid levels were at acceptable levels because of my medication not because of eating more carefully and not drinking. Once

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CLOTHES GET ON MY NERVES

BEWARE THE NAKED MAN Clothes get on my nerves. My sciatic nerve particularly. My back is degenerate, like mortal and pestle grinding my cartilage to dust. The nerves make me squeal, any waistband or belt draws the pain into my groin. Be aware of the naked man, spread-eagled on 400 thread cotton sweat shop sheets,

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Welcome to my degeneration

I carry these two reports with me in case I need to persuade others, especially those in the medical profession, of my pain. Long story short, I have inherited bad cartilage genetics. These reports indicate the likelihood of disc degenerative disease, which means my discs are collapsing and pinching many nerves, including the classic sciatic

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