Today I'll tackle writing through temporary physical pain. Last October, I looked at November and couldn't see the glimmer of a possibility of even trying Nanowrimo let alone keeping up with both of my blogs. It was the second trip to the ER where I left with no diagnosis and a new definition of a level 10 on my pain scale that I grabbed hold of my complete physical weakness and a medicated haze to realize I could still put words into story. I might not have been able to eat for a weak, and mostly slept, but I also dreamed.
In a file on my phone, I tapped out a few words here and there and dragons flew as words went together VERY SLOWLY! Just like the muscle that pulled apart and redefined how I could do everything, I had to redefine goals and success and even Nanowrimo.
I aimed for a sentence or a paragraph at a time at the outset, not the 1,667 words per day needed to hit fifty thousand words.
So I redefined it as I spent the month on my couch and getting a series of medical tests as I slowly healed. There were tablets of paper for the repeated X-rays, and that one magical day I could actually climb the stairs and was well enough to sit at my desk.
I did hit the fifty thousand word mark. I made it. My muscle did too. Well, I'm assuming it will by the time this posts because it's still healing as I write this on New Year's Eve.
This is only a post on writing through temporary pain. I can't speak to chronic pain, but I welcome comments from anyone who can. I have a much larger respect for everyone who deals with chronic pain, and my respect for how you get through every day was already huge. Whatever you're dealing with, you're amazing. Whatever you're doing, keep going, even if you have to redefine success and change your goals, keep going. If you never give up, you'll get there.