A Permanent Pain

For four days, I’ve been nursing a spasm in my right arm—a dull, constant pain that would occasionally spike, reminding me not to move my arm this way… that way… or even that way. The pain dictated every aspect of my day—how I walked, how I slept, how I wore my t-shirt, how I sat at work, how I played with my daughter, how I drove. I tried managing it with massages and hot fomentation. But after a while, I realised I was starting to make peace with the pain.

I began restricting my movements, expecting the next painful reminder. I started sitting differently, eating differently, sleeping differently, even walking differently. That’s when I knew I needed help. It wasn’t anything complicated—just a visit to the doctor, followed by a course of painkillers, muscle relaxants, and heat therapy.

Today, I woke up feeling different. Confident that I could go for a walk, if not a run. And I did. It felt so good that it almost felt better than before.

I guess that’s the thing about pain—it feels permanent, crippling, and all-encompassing until it’s not. The key is knowing when to bear through it and when to seek help.