Tag Archives: infected

Cross to Bear

Cross to bear: burden or trial one must put up with

It’s not about how much you’re carrying; it’s about how much you’re grunting and complaining.

From an honest heart, I will tell you:

Many of the things we feel we suffer are self-inflicted wounds we’ve refused to treat and therefore, they’ve become infected.

Then we bitch about the infection, failing to notice that we’ve ignored the open wound.

Although there may be validity to the notion that each one of us bears a cross, much of the burden that is upon us is self-induced, self-prescribed and self-contained.

How do we know the difference between a difficulty that requires perseverance and one that is waiting for us to drop it off at the emotional dump heap?

Two quick questions should help a lot:

  1. Have solutions been offered that I’ve rejected because I’ve decided I’m stuck with my predicament?

Because if I get caught in a fire, rather than acting doomed, I’m at least going to try to piss on it to put it out.

It is ridiculous to accept our lot—especially if we believe it’s been divinely thrust upon us by an interfering deity.

  1. Is there any way I can share the weight of a particular responsibility with another person without hurting him or her, or coming across as a complete wimp?

Very often in my life, the box that needs to be carried into the house is much lighter when I ask a friend to help—but often I don’t, Because otherwise, how could I stumble into the room, breathless, screaming for someone to find a table where I can put it down?

There is great drama in believing that we are so important that some tribulation has purposely targeted us.

But for me, I’d rather sit on my big fat ass and think things through to a conclusion than try to find nobility in suffering.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

B Movie

B movie: (n) a low-budget movie

Dictionary B

I have written twenty feature-length screenplays.

Thirteen of them have been made into independent films.

Let me explain something: no one sets out to make a bad movie. No one wants their movie to slip to “Letter B” in the alphabet.

There are four things that determine the fate of a movie.

1. Since it is definitely over-written, as all scripts are, picking and choosing what to cut out is similar to deciding whether you’ll cut off your hand or your foot. Yet if one is infected, the amputation is certainly necessary.

2. Bad actors can turn good sentences into question marks.

3. Editing a movie is similar to using a hatchet to trim your fingernails. In other words, if you try to speed up, there will be some blood loss.

4. The public is picky. If you shoot for a particular emotion or feeling, that reaction may not be presently available in the audiences provided.

So many movies that planned on being A rated ended up sliding from their lofty goals, further confirming–perhaps without our knowledge or permission–whatever will B will B.

Donate ButtonThank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

Click here to get your copy now!

PoHymn cover jon

 

 

Abscess

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abscess: n. a swollen area within body tissue, containing an accumulation of pus.

I was trying to figure out an acceptable–dare I say pleasant?–way to present the concept of pus. Absent any constructive idea, I was reminded of a time when I was infected with the nasty goo.

I was twenty-two years old, traveling around the country without very much money and no health insurance. One day my face started to swell up. It is a frightening thing when you are fairly homely, to realize that it is possible to become even more unattractive. At first I didn’t worry about it, which was stupid, but then on top of the swelling came great pain, light-headedness, a sensation that I had been beaten up and humiliated by a gang of aggressive nuns, and a little nausea.

I was sick.

I went to a doctor who was gracious enough to offer free service. It was good that it was free, because he thought I had a “cold in my jaw” and suggested antihistamines. I am sure that the medication did kill all my histamines, but they did not seem to be the source of the great swelling.

Finally, near the point of passing out from my affliction, my friends drove me to a dentist in Jacksonville, Florida, who looked inside my mouth, and with a bit of horror etched across his face, announced, “You have a severely abscessed tooth.”

No part of that sounded good. He suggested a treatment of antibiotics for two weeks to reduce the swelling, and then he would pull the troublesome tooth. I laughed through my pain and explained that I would not be in town in two weeks, and that I needed something done today.

He paused. I don’t know what was crossing his mind, but I imagine it had something to do with disposing the body in the Atlantic Ocean if the big, fat boy sitting in his chair died from the treatment given in his office. Actually, I will never know why he did it, but on the spot he chose to give me oral surgery, which included five shots of Novocaine, which did not deaden the anguish. Then he cut inside my mouth and squeezed out all the poison and pus from the swelling.

It was gross, sickening, painful, ugly and all the time he was doing it, he was saying little oaths and curses under his breath because he realized that he was in the midst of a great malpractice suit.

He squeezed and he squeezed, and I cringed and I cringed. After about fifteen minutes, he was satisfied that he had drained the well. He sewed me up, handed me some antibiotics and after about a week, I was well again.

Oh, did I mention that in the same sitting, he reached in and yanked out the tooth? I think he was convinced that if I left his office, I would never try to get help again.

That was my experience with an abscess. Sometimes you just have to cut into it and squeeze out the guck.

It is never pleasant, but if you don’t, all the poison ends up winning.