Palliativity 101: in medias res

Chronic pain is not merely a physical condition— it’s a state of mind.

October, 1998

I wake up to the sound of helicopters. I find myself in bed, lying on my back as my mind aches from what I would later come to know as the morphine/opioid afterburn; where dreams and memories fight the demons of consciousness somewhere behind my throbbing eyes. I turn to find the source of the roaring rotors as the strings and horns join in. “Saigon… it’s Miss Saigon,” on top of my radiator, a My-First-Sony tapedeck/soundmachine plays on as only analog plastic 90’s tech could provide.

I look down to survey the salvage operation performed on my re-located shoulder three-thousand eons ago. The battlefield is quiet and and bandaged. White gauze can be very reassuring sometimes. I drop my head back down as my drawn-and-quartered tendons seem only to remember what pain feels like. I’m in no place to argue with them.

I’m 13 years old and these are the first few minutes of my new life.

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