It's almost a blur. There were three days of excrutiating pain during Hurricane Sandy. Next, we had a pain doc appointment that moved on to the DMV the same day. That was killer. Finally, we had my terror of Republican policies and my need to be relevant combine to force me into three straight days of volunteering to get out the vote on the phones. That all blends into one mass memory of pain. Well, pain and working with like minded people toward a common goal.
It all culminated last night in a moment (before the big moment) when I thought I would pass out. I was crowded into a theater with a few thousand of my closest friends. (Some of them recognized me but that's the uniform. I walk around with long unkept hair, a beard that seems curlier every day, slippers to help remind people how badly I walk if the cane isn't enough and then there's my "overshirt" worn to keep my arms extra warm and sweaty to cut down on RLS/fibromyalgia pain. I call it my disabily uniform.) In any case, a very large gentleman came up right behind me screaming obscenities at the stage where the state party chairman was giving a bad and boring speech. He was screaming these right over my shoulder which was painful and he was looking like someone who wanted to incite a riot. For both reasons, I tuned up my reasonable voice and asked him to stop because he was hurting me. To my shock, he stopped.
After this, a nice lady behind me who had managed to finagle a chair started asking someone to find a chair for me. The previous gentleman insisted on making up his outbursts to me by finding me a chair. Less than a minute later, I was seated happily.
I plan on writing about all these events in detail and getting back to writing fiction (like I ever stopped completely) but I need to rest first. These dream moments can turn into nightmares for those of us with chronic pain if we can't get the brakes to work. Another storm is on its way today so I really need to stop. It's time for some herbal tea and Pearl Jam music.
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