A Proportional Response

My two wonderful friends got married on Saturday, creating a day full of fun and beautiful memories. I spent the day with my amazing group of friends: we drank, we danced, we laughed, we sang, we ate more than we should have and we created memories that will last a life time. On Sunday Chris and myself went to visit two of my closest friends (who now lives in Birmingham) in Donegal. We spent the evening catching up, reminiscing and enjoying a few glasses prosecco. On Monday, as soon as i got home, I collapsed into bed in the fetal position.

Now Frank's (my right ovary) retaliation is not an unprovoked random act of violence, oh no, Frank demonstrating a proportional response. Proportional to the time spent in high heels, proportional to the alcohol consumed, proportional the duration and intensity of the dancing, proportional to the time spent sitting in the car, proportional to the lack of rest and sleep awarded to him. 

So this evening as I lay in bed, nauseated by the strength and quantity of pain relief taken to survive work, clutching my heat pad and watching the clock to see when i can take more pain relief, I am not mad at Frank. I am not angry at Frank, I am not at war with Frank, for his response is proportional to the assault I committed on him.

And despite the pain, I regret nothing, I would change nothing, I would do it all again in a heartbeat. Weekends like that make the bad days worthwhile, weekends like that make me smile when I'm in pain, the memories created with my friends give me hope that better days happen. X


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