I thought I knew the meaning of pain. I actually believed for a small, now insignificant, portion of my life that I had experienced events that gave me the undeniable right to claim that I know what pain is. In one single 16 our duration, my thoughts preceding this present moment have been destroyed.
I shall share a brief history of my pained experiences, for comparison to my currently standing affliction.
Case File 1: Slip n' Slide
My family lived in a small no-name town in Washington state. We stayed in the second story of a particular building of an apartment complex. I was overjoyed at the fact that in the central courtyard of the area, was a playground. It was not large, nor was it small. But it was mine to share.
As most people who have and have not been to Washington know, it tends to be rainy. There is seldom a clear sky, and this day was no exception. The dreary grey clouds rolled in weeks ago, and planned to keep an extended visit.
The clouds broke loose, dropping down upon our little town a constant drumming of downpour, creating an almost melodic tune in the head of those subconsciously listening.
My young mind found this interesting time to be the perfect time to explore my playground. In the already adventurous surroundings of limited visibility, I stuck with the spirit and committed myself to attempting feats of agility upon the wet metal frame of the play set.
The first, and last, thing I attempted was standing up on the slide. The side was in essence was a metal chute. It had the flat part to sit upon, and then the side railings rose up on the edges.
I stood at the top of the metal slide, ten feet of the ground. My rain-induced insanity drove me to stand upon the wet railing of the slide. The slippery sole of my traction-less shoes gave way beneath me as I stood for a full three seconds.
Due to the nature of how I slipped, I fell face first off the side of the slide into the wet and waiting ground below.
This set of entertainment for youth, such as myself, employed red wood mulch as the ground in the play area. My face-first contact with the flooring resulted in mulch entering every pore and hole upon my head, and then some. Some of the wood chippings stuck out at angles, puncturing my face the way cacti do in cartoons (and real life).
Case File 2: Beaten by the Heat
We lived in Arizona when I was ten. This was probably the shortest time frame in which we stayed in a state, as we only lived there for a one-month period during the 2008 Summer Olympics. Despite me not watching sports ever, I know this fact because staring at the television set was the only thing I was able to do for that period.
Genetics has "blessed" me with my mother's sensitivity to the elements. I try my hardest to ignore this fact, since I hate being the wuss in a group.
Arizona, as it is correctly stereotyped, is heated beyond belief. This isn't an issue for the people who know the correct ways to defeat it (i.e., stay inside). As a adolescent, I knew very little in the ways of using sunscreen or staying hydrated.
My carelessness resulted in a very severe sun stroke.
My body simply hated me. Any ingested liquids were waging a losing war of attempting to find residence. The culprit? My liver. It was basically the HOA, and it shut down. This caused the loss of shelter for any liquids, and evicted them with severity.
This war was fought with all kinds of pathogens, all on the battlefield of my internal system. I really wanted to simply lie down and die, because the pain was so severe.
Now that I have shared this two experiences, please try to come to terms with how bad this sun burn I have hurts.
That is all.
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