Works for Me Wednesday! Pain, uh, relief!

Thanks to Farah for sharing her pain and what works for her!

F*** F*** F***ity F***! Yes, that's what I said. Yes, you heard me right.

This past week I had a run in with a girl in a hurry and a heavy metal door. I was heading to my physical therapy appointment and was entering the building from the parking garage. Miss In-A-Hurry pushed the door open with all of her strength as she rushed into the garage and BAM. I was down for the count.

Ok, I didn't fall, but I should have. It would have hurt less. Instead, when she apologized profusely while I grit my teeth in pain, I nodded and said "Oh, it's okay!" with a pain ridden smile. Clearly, she saw the pain because she asked about three times "Are you okay???" To be honest, I wanted her to just leave so I could say the expletives that were bubbling and burning a hole in my throat.

As she scurried away I walked into the stairwell and shouted "F*** F*** F***ity F***!" I look down at my toe...and there it was. Wounded in action. It hadn't done anything wrong...didn't misstep, didn't give out. The poor thing was just was at the wrong place at the wrong time. My toe nail was the real casualty. It was off of my toe...attached by only the bottom right fourth. It was bleeding profusely and spiling on to my new Dr. Scholl's sandals (so comfy, by the way). I shout a few more words that rhyme with "Brother Trucker", "Rod Slam It", and "Spit spit spit!" Oh it felt so good to just let it out! ****! ****! ARGH!!!!!! It felt so good that I was able to catch my breath, and hobble to my physical therapy appointment.

Why does swearing work for me??? Why does it feel OOOOHHHH so ****ing good? Because studies show it can distract you and makes your tolerance for pain so much higher. Perhaps if I hadn't cussed I would have cried, collapsed in pain, and passed out on the floor waiting for some good (non rushing) Samaritan to save me from my bleeding toe. Perhaps, maybe, could be. Instead a bit of **** and **** saved us all the trouble.

At the end of the day I realize that not only is my nail gone, my toe starts to swell and well....it's broken. Just in time for my Vegas trip! F***! Guess I won't be wearing those heels. Wait....I'll just throw a few "****s" in my conversations and it'll make everything feel allllll better.

To see pictures of the critically wounded toe check out my post on Mothers' Hideaway in our Cabana!

This blog has been posted on We are THAT Family's What Works For Me Wednesday