Its 4:15pm on Friday, almost the end of the week. It hasn’t been a particularly long week as far as my workload. Nothing more than usual.
My right ankle if it could speak (weird huh, ankles with mouths), would probably say otherwise. It hurts. It has been gradually getting worse and worse. Started out as an occasional pain, every couple of weeks, now it’s everyday. It doesn’t help, that I spend 40+hours on my feet, wearing steel toed boots.
Yeah yeah yeah I hear you “You need to go get it checked out”, I have and I will be. The Doc told me it looks like arthritis is setting in, and it’s going to get worse.
Somehow me thinking about going to the Doctor brought up thoughts of my Daddy and his drug use. I have no idea how that happens or why. Can you see a connection between pain in my ankle and my Father being a junkie?
Yeah its the pain. Whenever I experience pain or expect pain, the memories of enduring a drug riddled childhood and the subsequent death of my parents always brings thoughts of the losing them. That explains why I was always so quick to avoid pain at all cost even if that meant walking away from something good because of the potential of possible pain…..