A Catalogue of Pain

When a friend recently posted a picture of her injury, it got me thinking about the large database of injury-related pictures I have … not because I’m an EMT (it would violate my code of ethics to take a picture of a patient, I’ve even had them offer to send me the picture with their own phone, but I decline), but because sometimes my family’s first reaction to an injury is “wait, lemme get my camera”. My mom used to do it … and I do it. But these days I’m more apt to share it with everyone on my Facebook page.


Why do we feel the need to catalogue our pain?

Fell off the kitchen chair at gramma’s.
Right in front of me.

Do we need sympathy?

Stupid Stupid Stupid.
My first summer with red hair and fair skin or what?

Do we just want to feel better?

Attack by “friendly” neighbourhood cat.
Left scars.

Do we need to know others make stupid mistakes, too?

Never try fast, high-impact wheelchair sports your first day in a wheelchair.

Does it bring our pain closer to the forefront so it doesn’t stay buried?

Army feet. Not mine.
Good thing she was rooming with two medics.
“Uh, yeah, it looks broken.”

When we share, do we excise the pain like a tumor?

How exactly does one injure one’s self gardening?

Does it make us feel more human, more fallible, more real?

Head + Window Sill = Glue

Do we need others to know we’re clumsy?

Head + Door = Glue

Is everyone this clumsy?

Head + Round Coffee Table = Stitches

Or does everyone feel like a bad parent when their kid gets hurt?

A horse used me as a springboard.
It hurt.
I learned not to fall off.

Can we protect our kids from every injury?

Teaching my son to ride and *I* get hurt.

Or can we just hope to learn from them?

What do you think?

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