Mis-step Mishap...

Almost two weeks ago, Tuesday, Oct. 30^th, at 4:20 pm to be exact, I fell coming up this short, steep flight of stairs, landing on the tile floor at the top.  It was one of those strange mis-haps.  I wasn’t carrying anything, wasn’t rushing.  I merely mis-stepped.  Meaning, I couldn’t remember whether I had one more step to take or not, and in that flash of a moment, looking down at my right foot to check where it was, I stumbled, twisted to my right and landed on my left side with my left arm tucked neatly underneath me.  Slam dunk, there I was, surprised to be on the floor.

I knew I was falling, I just didn’t realize HOW I was going to land in the split-second fall.  It was the sudden blow to the ribcage, the weight of my body compressing my arm into the ribcage that startled me.  I heard myself make that exhaling ooff noise when one has received a blow to the ribs.   I sat up quickly and assessed.  No severe pain, just a funny feeling in that spot on the left side.  After standing there was no real “pain” either. I moved every which way I could to test it, and thought maybe I’d gotten through my mishap unscathed.  But not so.  The next day the pain began, that unrelentless hot pain of injured ribs being splayed open by a swift compressing blow that radiated across the left chest.  Thunk…  And there began a nearly two week sojourn (so far) with pain, unable to find a comfortable position, the spine jammed up.  

I managed the pain pretty well for the first week with over the counter pain killers, energy work, rescue remedy, sitting in chairs part of some nights to sleep, being cautious with my movement, sitting in Silence *with* the pain, breathing into it, feeling like I could make it through this.  But after a week another, worse pain caught me by surprise on the right lower rib cage, and across the back. A kind of hold your breath pain.  I could feel its stuckness.  I tried a few things I knew to do, but nothing relieved it.  I was reduced…

I was brought to my knees, reduced to a puddle of pain, losing all perspective – aware that I had lost it - forgetting to turn to the Source of my beingness, unable to meditate, forgetting about “energy work” to get the flow going again. I needed a handy Shaman to pull out of thin air! J There was no reasoning mind that said, this is only your body, which really does not exist.   All I wanted was freedom *from* the pain.  And in that desperation I went to the medical profession for help, and thus started the Russian Roulette game with medication.  When one is desperate for relief, one is tempted to try anything. I am very sensitive to medications. And have many “sensitivities” making it stressful to try new meds, as I have had many “reactions.”  I only need the lower dosages, usually.  I was given a muscle relaxant – 800 mgs worth.  I broke it in half, and still it knocked me out for more than 3 hours, but did not relieve the pain.  So another night of pain, another call to the doctor, asking for a simple pain killer.  I was reduced.  Pain does that – reduces us to a primal state, our rawness, nakedness and vulnerability, and in some instances emotionalism – which spawned the “A Week of Pain” post – empathizing with those in pain, needing someone to help us to relieve the pain, to be there for us, to take care of us, to support us in our vulnerable state.  At least that’s how I experienced it.  I was given a low dose, strong pain medication.  Ahhhh – relief from severe pain, which still took a couple of days to achieve – and only 3 pills. J I was cautious in taking it, as it too tended to knock me out and make me durffy – but it also brought relief.

And then yesterday, finally, I called out – to the Unknown – surrendering as I paced with the pain – fearful that it had gone on for so long.  It was a good conversation – a release of emotion and fear – a re-establishing of the awareness of the ever-present Source of Being.

And when I awoke this morning – not using the strong medication last night – it was the first morning that I awoke without severe, limiting, reducing pain.  I am still quite sore, levels of intensity of pain come and go, and am still limited in movement, but I can feel the fluidity in the spine returning.  And I am grateful.  Tentative, but relieved – cautiously moving through my day, surrendered to and surrounded by grace…

"There is a secret medicine
given only to those who hurt so hard
they can't hope...

Give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave
till it gets to shore.

I need more grace than I thought..."

Rumi

Photo: Blinds (?ribs) with sheer curtain draped over them
Photo is on its side…