I am sitting here in my kitchen in pain. My leg is on fire, a burning, searing endless fire that seems to have no end. _ A large portion of my thigh got burned when on Christmas Day I went up to give my husband a kiss on his motorcycle. I’ve done it a thousand time and never gotten burned. In that instant my life changed for the foreseeable future. I’m not going to lie. It sucks. It has impacted so many things! I can’t sleep on my right side so Tim and I had to change sides of the bed. Nothing can touch the area so I can’t wear leggings or pants or long dresses. I can’t expose the area to sun so no beach for me. This is especially painful BC the one place I’ve felt total peace after my father passed was at the beach. I also cant go outside or go for walks. I can’t sit comfortably or drive without the effected part of my thigh rubbing painfully on something. I’m looking at the exposed whitish flesh and horrified at the prospect of a giant scar. My practice is difficult but I’m managing to modify. I can’t go to class and I’m afraid of when I have to teach BC when it gets hot it hurts even more. My house has turned into a burn care unit as I treat and wrap the area. When anything touches the burn I whimper like a hurt dog—and I have a high pain threshold. If this is what burn victims experience on vast swaths of their bodies, my heart goes out to you. This is awful, almost unbearable. Not only is the physical side of the loss hard to deal with, but the psychological element is tough as well. I’ve gone through waves of anger, sadness, self-pity, loss and mourning. The moment my leg got burned I knew it was bad and I lost it. I cried that ugly cry and haven’t really been able to pull myself fully together since. While this is a truly small thing and one day I’ll be back to normal, it’s all just a bit much right now. One day I’ll learn to love this scar that’s forming on my thigh. One day I’m sure I’ll laugh about this, but right now I am not ok—I’m pretty fucking far from ok. _ Pain is a teacher. Not a friendly one, but a deeply profound one. It takes one moment to destroy and days, months or more likely years to heal.

kinoyogaさん(@kinoyoga)が投稿した動画 -

キノ・マクレガ―のインスタグラム(kinoyoga) - 12月29日 23時57分


I am sitting here in my kitchen in pain. My leg is on fire, a burning, searing endless fire that seems to have no end.
_
A large portion of my thigh got burned when on Christmas Day I went up to give my husband a kiss on his motorcycle. I’ve done it a thousand time and never gotten burned. In that instant my life changed for the foreseeable future. I’m not going to lie. It sucks. It has impacted so many things! I can’t sleep on my right side so Tim and I had to change sides of the bed. Nothing can touch the area so I can’t wear leggings or pants or long dresses. I can’t expose the area to sun so no beach for me. This is especially painful BC the one place I’ve felt total peace after my father passed was at the beach. I also cant go outside or go for walks. I can’t sit comfortably or drive without the effected part of my thigh rubbing painfully on something.
I’m looking at the exposed whitish flesh and horrified at the prospect of a giant scar. My practice is difficult but I’m managing to modify. I can’t go to class and I’m afraid of when I have to teach BC when it gets hot it hurts even more. My house has turned into a burn care unit as I treat and wrap the area. When anything touches the burn I whimper like a hurt dog—and I have a high pain threshold. If this is what burn victims experience on vast swaths of their bodies, my heart goes out to you. This is awful, almost unbearable. Not only is the physical side of the loss hard to deal with, but the psychological element is tough as well. I’ve gone through waves of anger, sadness, self-pity, loss and mourning. The moment my leg got burned I knew it was bad and I lost it. I cried that ugly cry and haven’t really been able to pull myself fully together since. While this is a truly small thing and one day I’ll be back to normal, it’s all just a bit much right now. One day I’ll learn to love this scar that’s forming on my thigh. One day I’m sure I’ll laugh about this, but right now I am not ok—I’m pretty fucking far from ok.
_
Pain is a teacher. Not a friendly one, but a deeply profound one. It takes one moment to destroy and days, months or more likely years to heal.


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