Tooth Fairy

I have not lived through death to say with any authority that there are things worse than death. But I can tell you with a certain measure of authority that there are some pains in this life, physical and otherwise that make you wish for death, or something close enough to death - only on the understanding that with death comes the end of the pain.

For this entire week I have had visions of Tom Hanks in Cast Away struggling through a toothache - till he succumbs and finally resorts to knocking his tooth out with the blade of a skating shoe. There is a pulse in my mouth, stronger than regular; it feels like my heart has been relocated to my mouth. The heavy steady thumping in my mouth, the pain, debilitating, immobilising my basic thought processes.

Last night, sorry, yesterday, was bad - really bad. I kept popping pain pills reminiscent of my favourite MD, House. The pain was so excruciating I lost track of how many pills I had popped, all that was important was it brought me relief, but by evening my body was convulsing in shivers - my skin like asphalt on a hot day. I got home and was only able to remove my shoes, the warmth of the covers was all I wanted - I could not care for anything else; not even the fact that my temperature was over 100.

The thought of being hungry was just that, a thought, with no action behind it, sought of like the empty promises of politicians. I eventually ate. If you have never known the pain of cold, brought on by a fever, then you should consider yourself lucky. I undressed quickly to take a shower in an attempt to reduce my fever, as the clothes came off my skin, as my body folded into itself, searching for warmth from its constituent parts. No such reprieve would come.

I took a shower in warm water - or at least that is what I thought, because every drop of water on my skin sent chills to my core - it felt like cold compressed air being let out in a continuous stream onto my bones. It hurts. My body folded more into a fetal position, my lips trembled, the pain came in uncontrollable waves - and all I could do was scream, then cry, then beg silently in what was left of my conscious mind for the pain to stop.

Last night the elements were my enemy. The water chilled me to the bone and if I thought I would receive clemency when I stepped out the shower, those thoughts were quickly dispensed. The coldness of the air last night sent me cowering and quivering in the corner - begging for deliverance from this bully.

My toothache kicked it up more than a few notches last night and brought this otherwise strong man to his knees - or rather to his side in a fetal position, begging for an end to the pain, any end, just an end.

In all this there was a bright moment. My sun, damn! He came to my side while I shook and cried, the warm tears streaming down my cheek - and gently, rubbed my head, then he kissed my head and said "papa". He did that a number of times until he too was ready to be comforted and whisked away by the sand man. My sun felt my pain and I felt his compassion.

I can't yet decide which pain is easier to deal with, physical, emotional, mental or spiritual - but admittedly at some point in our lives we must deal with one or all.