More truth...

Back in my high school Honours English class, Miss Kendrick did her damnedest to get us to dig into the deeper levels of literature, from Beowulf to Faulkner. It's the former that's on my mind today, a leap from the Harrumpher's comment.

Anyone who has encountered Beowulf, whether in translation or in Anglo-Saxon, has also encountered its literary studies. Chief among those is the debate over the symbolism that goes with slaying Grendel only to be attacked by Grendel's mother. I found it odd that my friend chose that particular analogy, because living with many forms of chronic pain is a lot like that. (Not to say that Anglo-Saxon literary studies are a chronic pain, but never mind.)

People with chronic pain have to choose among the options of:

• Feeding a warrior or two to the monster every night and having an otherwise normal kingdom
• Bringing in a hero to kill the creature without thinking out the possible consequences
• Then killing the progenitor of the monster, again without contemplating the outcome.

It's a three-way Hobson's choice.I think I'll revisit this when I've had a chance to poke around those literary studies and draw clearer parallels, but there is something there.

Just when I thought my beast was off on a new tack, I had my usual sort of visitation last evening, up to Mankoski level 7 or more. Trust me: if you're going to deal with a chronic pain episode at that level, by choice you do want to do it just before bed, so that your heavy meds plus the distraction don't make you a danger to yourself and others. This was the first really intense one of this season, and I had to refocus on management tactics I'd neglected for a few months. I did fall asleep (I think, as opposed to passing out) and by the time I woke up, three or four hours later, things were under control.

I believe I've mentioned here before that the sole blessing of TN is that it seldom interferes with sleep. That's seldom: when it does creep in, stab you and wake you up, the experience feels like a real cheat.