oh, you know, fine

it’s been a bit of a day.

why on earth do i say that when in fact what i mean is that if the day could have ended by 10 a.m. then it couldn’t have come soon enough.

why do we say we’re fine, when we’re not?

i asked my daughter today how was she feeling.

fine, she replied.

this from a child who had been in dreadful pain all morning.

i know she does not like talking about the pain. to admit it, brings it forwards. she pushes the pain from her. distraction is everything. small goals. etc.

i read somewhere that when it comes to chronic pain, those who are accepting of it do better than those who are not.

acceptance goes against the grain of believing that this thing, whatever it is, might be defeated (wrong word, i’m tired, but you get my drift). or, even, vain hope, that it might just go away of its own accord.

we’re caught between strategies designed to move the pain away from her, and others that pull it right back.

so yeah, fine.

never better.


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