We've all had interesting conversations with people about our pain. Some of the conversations are a gift, some of them drive us batty, and some drive them batty. Recently, I had a quick chat with someone about my experience with an invisible illness...and, as if on cue in a bad script, came the twist in the seemingly peaceful plot when he said...Him: "Oh come on, it's not like you're an invalid or anything."
Me: Blank stare
Here is where I nearly turned into a super hero, punched him in the testicles, shoved my ice down his throat, broke his ribs, and ran off with his french fries. Volatile? Yes. Chuckle worthy in my head? Double Yes. But I resisted my urge to beat up the Ding Dong. Good for me...and bummer for super hero story telling.
-)
Lucky dude- still has all of his appendages.
-)
Lucky dude- still has all of his appendages.
Ok given that title I did at least expect a photo of you in a Batman costume with a big KAPOW over your head. I admire your restraint though I am fascinated by the fact that the desire to "punch the junk" is apparently a universal reaction to insensitivity. It's all a bit like Jung and the collective unconscious. Though in my psych class they discussed this in light of the existence of mandalas in all cultures. For some reason the prof never mentioned junk punching. Hmmmmm.....
ReplyDeleteI hope he had the good sense to appreciate how lucky he was not to be walking around a eunuch.
Cheers
Rusty Hoe :)
"Punch the Junk" LOVE IT! haha...your so right, it's universal!
ReplyDeleteBy not mentioning it, your prof probably was trying to get junk punching to die out for all the male species. But alas, it lives!...well, in my head.
-)