Sandy Supposes....

I save my best screams just for me...

PROMPT: Creation Saturday! Who hears you when you scream?

         Oooh, shiver, and moan... today's prompt reads like a horror movie title... Who hears you when you scream? Bahahaha.... Um, what kinda screaming are we talking about? Unadulterated terror? Nope, I don't recall any cause for that. Frustration? Oh yes, been there, and done that. My offspring have responded to that scream. They couldn't claim deafness for that one. Pain? Most definitely yes! Oddly though, those specific screams I tend to release only when I'm alone. I believe it's the whole British stiff-upper-lip-thing. I suppose one of my immediate concerns when I've been injured is that I don't wish to unduly alarm someone. It's something like this: "why yes, yes, I do seem to have somersaulted across your front lawn. Sorry? Oh, you see splintered bone jutting from my purplish limb, and spurting blood? Don't worry. It's merely a flesh wound. Why of course it might be a good idea to phone for an ambulance. How kind of you. I'd appreciate that. No, no, I didn't strike my head. See? I'm perfectly calm, and not screaming hysterically." Probably I want to establish that I am sane, and capable of rational thought. Notice I didn't make a claim of possessing a sound mind AND body.

          I don't recall any screaming from either my spouse or myself during three separate childbirths. Blessedly they were quick episodes, and I concentrated more on vital things like breathing and pushing. There really wasn't any time to be voicing protests, and they would've been far too late anyway.

          If there is an audience, or witnesses to my pain, I become a tongue biter. I'm not ever going to admit that I'd feel a bit better with at least one blood-curdling scream. Some of my injuries have shocked and scarred enough people. All of us don't need to be traumatized. I, however, have heard my own screams when I've been sure I was alone. It helps to increase the adrenaline, and endorphins.

          Some of my best screams are accompanied by a single succinct word, 'shit.' Again, it's only me present, and in the intensity of the moment, I can excuse a little profanity. Too many times, I have stubbed a tender toe or two, and fractured it. This is a most exquisite pain. Knock on wood, but not heavy furniture which trips me up, my tootsies have been fracture-free for a few months now. I should erect a poster declaring this: fracture-free for three entire months. For a period of three years which was in my immediate past, I broke my toes regularly, and always when I was unaccompanied. You know, it's not easy to jump, or hop about then.

         Just last summer, I endured several screaming spells. First, I was the victim of a slip and fall at a local grocery store. Arriving at the emergency room, I slipped and fell again. Don't groan, it did add insult to injury. I screamed in the privacy of my vehicle while I awaited someone to arrive and transport me to the hospital. The next morning, all by my lonesome, the greater toe of my uncasted foot connected solidly with an ottoman. Oh, I screamed, cursed, and wailed. Damn, it dared to happen several more mornings! Anyway, my entire summer was stuck on that injury loop. On one occasion, I tripped and somehow launched my upper body through an open window... ah, but that time not just my toes suffered. I discovered it does hurt to scream, and later laugh with broken ribs. I missed steps, and stumbled over scant breezes.

         Now, I'm recovering from another knee surgery. Most of the screams originate from the knee itself.