Pain is a sneaky foe; my personal threshold for it varies wildly. To claim I can handle more than the next person reads well, but it is a lie. Brand me average, momma. I’m straight C’s in the pain tolerance department.

When and where pain erupts, matters more to me than the actual discomfort. Context is also the primary factor in triage, and determines whether any corrective action is necessary. A Charley horse at five AM merits instant treatment. It gets my attention because that sort of ailment interrupts sleep. Like a eight-year-old cranked on refined sugar, a severe muscle pull will not be ignored.

However, a sore throat that runs twelve days – growing more intense daily – a ringing in both ears, and a constant state of dizziness, I ignore. Or, for those bound by grammar, I ignored. I denied those symptoms existed. At least until the ringing reached a point where eavesdropping on nearby tables in restaurants became impossible. Actually, hearing people seated at my table was difficult. I smiled and laughed my way through the rough patches. Perhaps, I said something appropriate. Maybe not, though.

And so, I visited a local Doc-in-a-Box. She discovered fluid in both ears and a bacterial infection. A very unglamorous diagnosis. She scribbled a prescription for antibiotics, anti-histamines and ear drops, and wished me luck. Excellent work for ninety-seconds.

Well, one side benefit of the treatment, concentrating at the keyboard is much easier.