the sound of traffic

i'm taking a course of antibiotics in case 'the thing' is an infection and not my nervous system. 2 days in and it wasn't looking good. last night the pain arrived and stayed. not as severe, but it wouldn't retreat. painkillers and all. it had somehow moved from my jaw to my front upper teeth. this morning i cut my toast into small pieces because i couldn't bite. lunchtime it was a little less tender and i could tear at (but not bite) my sandwich. eating, once again, was hard work. a delicate, eye-watering procession.

but tonight something strange happened. my pain was gone. and i believe it's not coming back because my head is clear. i haven't felt like this in some time. it's like when your eardrum pops and all the sounds return to how they should be. all senses fall into place. there's no dull ache, no pressure, no between-pain numbness. just empty and gone. and it's amazingly good.

i want to remember this feeling. i want to draw upon it when i next think that all is shit. because it isn't. and maybe my head can feel like this forever.

it's hard to write this without sounding naff. i'm quite abuzz. i'm hearing the traffic outside. i'm noticing sensations in other body parts. for the last month or longer i've been little more than my head. it felt huge, explosive, unmanageable. everything (not just eating) happened in and around my head. there's the conversations with others where i had to pretend that i wasn't throbbing; the reading on the bus where i would try to ignore its arrival; the slow metered breathing at night, waiting for it to ease. which it did, but it never died. it never felt like now.

a lot of the work i did was in trying to forget it. thinking and talking about it brought it back. when telling people it would stir as though i was shining a torch on it. i was deeply troubled by the potential of this future and thought about how death might be the end point of my pain. but then tonight happened. i ate ice-cream, i drank tea, and nothing made me shiver or close my eyes. no reason to put my hand to my face (not on my face, but just hovering near it) and breathe slowly (my general response).

now i go to sleep. and tomorrow i think of other things.