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Day 90 on the Gravanok
It’s been three months today since we set sail with Captain TAT. The boys-a are becoming men-ya. There have been no fistfights in over a week, and we’ve had no deaths, despite the two who went overboard in shark-filled waters.
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Rescue is Coming for Those Who Suffer with Chronic Pain
To the young woman, utterly lost and sore-afraid, imprisoned in the Underground, I say, “Hold on!” To the old man, desperate with pain and blinded by the darkness, I say, “I am coming.” Listen for my voice and follow me. I am heading out of this wicked place in due time.
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No Ifs, Ands, or Butts
There’s a part of the human anatomy, much maligned, ever since Forrest Gump got shot in the hind quarters, which he referred to plainly as his “but-tocks.”
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Dying Well on Thanksgiving Day
Mrs. Esther Wholesum died on a Thanksgiving afternoon in the mid-to-late 1990’s, surrounded by her family and full of years. I remember it well.
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The Coiling Snake of Tension Headache
I am Theseus. How long I’ve been in the Underground I cannot say. Already I have lost my way. The muscles in my back have become like knotted ropes. Sleep eludes me.
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Theseus Descending
There must be 101 ways to hurt. All of them are rotten. Some of them change us. Even tiny things can pack a wallop. Consider these five: a hornet sting on the hand; a scratch across the eye; a kidney stone on its journey; a gout flare in the toe; and a burned finger on a child.
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