The pain scale is 0-11:
0, feels good, no aches and pains, I vaguely recall this sense from my early teens.
1-5 is the wimp zone, where women, pussies and wussies and other postmodern abominations reach for advil, aspirin, etc. 5 is basically where non-combatants fold, a punch that breaks the nose or causes a concussion. This is the combatant threshold. If you do not thrive beyond this pain point then God did not design you to survive anything more pressing than modernity.
6 is where a fighter needs to pay attention, when something that he does hurts more than what usually gets done to him by proficient opponents. This like getting kicked in the ribs.
7 hurts twice as bad as 6 and is an indication that worse things are to come. 7 is like getting kicked in the kidneys.
8 feels worse than 7 marginally, but is accompanied by some kind of weakness—your body caving in. This is like taking a kick to the liver.
9 fells markedly worse than 8, but nothing like the jump from 6-7. It is taking your body sensory system to the brink, to that last wicked step, like having a bone broken. Nine is "I want to die" territory.
10 is sensory overload, essentially like having a good Muay Thai man slam his shin into your groin and paste your nuts against your pelvis. This is kind of a nirvana state if you can maintain consciousness. There is usually a need to relive pressure, to collapse, go to your knees, curl up, moan, hiss, groan or growl depending on the level of hatred you hold for those around you. Around my lady I might moan—at work I hiss, on the street I growl.
11 is when the pain has gotten so bad your ability to appreciate it is dulled. You are probably unconscious, but if not, you have an opportunity to appreciate life from the viewpoint of an oyster at the bottom of the sea, looking up into a hazy, uncaring realm that still brings information your way. I found this state quite pleasing as a fighter, with referees standing over me discussing my condition as if I weren't there.
Pain and Writing
6. I write best in pain, with six being optimal. I began writing in those times when I was disabled from working due to back injuries.
7. At this point I have a hard time with literary reviews and writing history.
8. At this phase of the pain progression I struggle to keep out of 9 and beyond by alternating writing positions and exercise. At this point I'm no longer able to write instructional material or develop written discussion points.
9. I can only read at this point, standing or sitting now agonizing efforts that will take me over the edge and beyond.
10. At 10 I seek sleep and usually find it. However, If the pain gets worse at this point I find myself enjoying an altered state at 11.
11. I write fiction in my head while in this delirious state.
Medication
I do not use pain pills, but alcohol, because it is something that I can buy without bothering my doctor friend for an appointment. Over the counter pain medication only address those levels of pain that I do not recognize and are therefore useless.
I have primarily arthritic and soft tissue problems due to my extreme levels of activity in the past, so do benefit from the occasional muscle relaxer, which, like alcohol, loose potency with use. For instance, I have not had a beer for three days for the reason that I really depend on Sunday morning writing to clear my mind of social toxins, so kept my alcohol tolerance as low as possible so I could get drunk enough this morning to be able to sit and write for four hours.
Vomiting from nausea, sometimes brought on by sickening levels of pain can cause humiliation—which I am allergic to—and also yank out a disc or tear an intercostal muscle. For this reason, when facing long bouts of life over the 8 mark, I get a prescription for an anti-nausea pill.
Gimp
Since retiring from competition in stick-fighting my every moment is spent between a 7-11, with 8-9 the norm. The years being beaten with a stick have helped me develop a level of pain tolerance I did not have at age 32, when I was crippled by this same level of pain. From age 36-52 I competed in boxing, stick-fighting and machete dueling and developed the pain tolerance and body awareness to remain functional beyond the norm. In the two following installments I will discuss the methods I am using to continue in the occupation that originally injured my body and in the combat art that saved my soul.
Winter of a Fighting Life
Weed is a better pain reliever than alcohol but it tends to make me paranoid. I'm already paranoid so weed is no good for me. I have read that many people with back pain get enormous relief from yoga. The problem being doing the yoga at first hurts. The pain relief is delayed so people stop.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night from pain and had my whole right back muscles in my leg, calf and thigh, in a total brain thumping cramp. I have no idea why. You know the kind of cramp where the muscle is totally contracted and the only way to stop the pain is pull and massage the muscle, which makes it hurt worse while your doing it.
If I felt like that all the time I don't know if I could survive it. The pain you're in I'm not so sure I could live with it. Especially without some kind of drug.