i am so sick... and the pain has no words. i am aware of how dangerous it is to have all my symptoms + kidney stones + my swollen spleen. anyone with half a brain would have gone to the hospital, but i don't see the point--they're not going to fix it, just give me a follow up appt, test, more appts, drugs, etc. screw that.
while writhing and fiesting about in agony in my bed, i felt the "be calm hand" on me and a "shhh". (my fever was ridiculous). i tried to lay calmly and as still as possible (which is hard when i am in pain). i closed my eyes, unclenched my jaw and went to my happy place. i can't really see it behind me, but it looks like the back door of a cabin. in front of me is a small beach with vast water--like an ocean. on both sides of this ocean are woods as far as the eye can see. (it looks like an ocean in the middle of the woods.)
and my wolf is there. he howls. he sings the song of a thousand wolves, it sounds like a lullaby to me--very calm and soothing.
the pain is still almost unbearable.
shhh.... and the "be calm hand".
i lay on the small beach with my feet towards the water. the tide comes in and washes me from my feet to the small of my back and to the nape of my neck. it is very cool and refreshing. the more it washes over me, the more quiet and still i become.
i feel a little less hot. i squirm and writhe less.
i don't need to look for my wolf--i can still hear him. i see him in my mind and he is in a small cage and his howling is a growl.
i am writhing harder. the pain has increased.
shh.... "be calm"
the water is cool, the tide is coming in fierce. it is so relaxing and cool. my wolf has gone back to his singing. his cage has become a jail cell, he's not as tightly kept--but he is still confined. the water is becoming toxic as it pulls away my pain. the cell door is open. my wolf waits. patience. shh...
i am asleep, i realize that i must be--but refuse to acknowledge that--lest i wake up again.
the cell disappears and my wolf sits by the shore and watches the water. he growls at it. i feel well enough to get up. he leads me to the woods where we travel around in the near dark.
i am half-awake. no. i do not want to be. wolf, take me back there, please.
shh... "be calm" i sleep once more.
where is my wolf when i need him. his howling is faint and distant.
i see him in my mind. he appears wounded and i am trying to drag him. then i realize--he is not too sick to help me--i am missing the proper keys.
to go woth my wolf to my happy place it is easiest when i am sick, in pain, and have a fever (basically--partially delirious) if i am too conscious it is hard to lead my mind back to my wolf.
my wolf hangs his head apologetically. then he sings the song of a thousand wolves. he cannot take me, i am too conscious.
i have all the keys save for the fever. where is my fever? i should have one. i am quite ill this time--as i knew i would be. the infection is bad. the pain is absolute torture. no fever--no fight. my body is doing nothing for me.
wolfie! please. take me away from this misery.
one way or another.
take me away from it.
please.
my wolf continues singing. then he fades away.