It must be harder to lose your mind than I thought. From the moment I woke up from a few hours of being less conscious to when I couldn't stay awake any longer, I was in agony. I know how it works. As soon as the pain subsides (since it never truly stops), the brain goes into full scale denial. It couldn't possibly have hurt that much. You're making this up. You've always been like that. One of these days, I'm going to repair that damage that tears me up so badly. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that it doesn't really hurt, I might own this house. Wait! I do own this house so I guess abuse can be an investment strategy.
I'm feeling bitter today in case you haven't noticed. No, I'm not truly feeling bitter toward my mother and father despite the bit of humor at their expense. (Literally?) Today's bitterness is all about the pain. For months, I was getting by because I had gone on a schedule with my breakthrough meds like everyone with an opinion suggested. That left me with nothing to fall back on when the waves of pain hit last week. The worst part is that I believe quite honestly that stress has left me in tooth pain. It isn't constant and doesn't react to sugary foods like simple tooth decay should but seems to be the result of years spent trying to hold off the "care" of an orthodontist and then from gritting my teeth in pain.
Have ever been told that your jaw didn't sit right and contributed to how funny looking you are? I was told pretty much exactly that except the people involved weren't talking to me. I was trapped in one of those dental chairs while they talked over me. The symbolism is pretty frightening when you think about it. Kid is trapped with expectations of good behavior strapping him down while the adults decide that he isn't up to specs and needs to be modified. I had to wear this "appliance" in my mouth during the height of the cruelty years of the kids around me. The only reason that I escaped a second year of a second more painful device was that I practiced setting my jaw where they wanted it to go. By the time they got around to looking at it, the new position felt natural.
The only way to gain any pain relief these days is to find the original position that I was born in and try to copy it. I remember your name, Doctor, but I'm smart enough to not publish it. At the time, I was grateful that you decided to not put braces on me for fear of a shunt infection. Yes. I remember all the details.
And time passes...
Would you like to venture a guess what got me away from huddling with the pain and back to (semi-) productive living? I felt the overwhelming urge to write something and so I looked at the project that had most recently graced my desktop. The urge got stronger so I returned to the passengers and crew of the SS Zephyr. It was time to fill in what was going on with others while the heretofore main characters enjoyed the spotlight. How do human boys find the alien girls they met while boarding? They find them completely mystifying, of course, and enjoy being mystified. What about their father? He's the most shocking of all when he approves of his daughters' romantic decisions.
I know. It would never happen in real life which is part of what makes writing fiction so much fun. SF is fun because I enjoy taking the exotic and showing just how normal it can be. Would you say that the lives of children and adolescents have changed in the last 150 years? That's a trick question because adolescence as we know it is a product of expanded car use in the 20s and, more importantly, the 50s when TV added another layer of confusion to the question by inventing the teenager. 150 years ago, teenagers were adults working long hours dulling their brains in the factories and fields. They were also having children of their own. Children having children is nothing new.
As you might have guessed from the cynicism, the pain levels are creeping back up. I just wanted you guys to know that I'm not dead yet. (Thank you, Bek Oberin/Ricky Buchanan. I very much hope you're still "Not Dead Yet.")
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