Coveting a golf cart

Pain is one of those difficult things to describe. Sometimes it is electric, sometimes it is muscular. Sometimes it is pin-pointy, sometimes it is everywhere. Sometimes it is deep, sometimes it is superficial. Sometimes it is knife-jabby, sometimes it is constant. Sometimes it is just annoying, sometimes it is scary and frustrating beyond words. Almost always it is really, really boring. Blah.

Anyone who has ever been in a medical situation involving pain is all too familiar with that inane scale the people with clipboards always ask about. Pen poised and ready to collect questionably meaningful data, they ask, “On a scale of one to 10, where 10 is your worst pain, what is your pain level right now?”

I hate that question. Having had a career once in market research, I know scales. I lived scales. I made pretty bar charts based on scales. I was never a fan of a strict number scale. How can I possibly take this thing I live with daily, in varying degrees, with as many descriptions as Eskimos have for snow, and narrow it down to one number? Much better, in my opinion, to have words associated with each choice; much less grey area. In life, I am finding I kinda dig the grey area. In quantitative data, not so much. Frankly, I would really rather just “Strongly disagree” with the whole scenario.

I like the pain scale they have for kids. Instead of numbers, it is a series of drawn faces starting with a happy face and continuing to a frowny face with tears and heavy eyelids. Those faces communicate so much more than a number. A quick glance and we are all on the same page. I have found the smiley/frowny face scale useful to rate other things, too. Like attempted recipes in a cookbook and lots of wines in a tasting room.

Looking for a way to liven things up a bit and have some fun with this pain thing, I came up with my own pain scale several years ago. I find it quickly lets Rob know how I am doing without me having to scrounge up a piece of paper and a crayon.

While I have never in fact been hit by any of the vehicles listed below, I have found the progression of small to big and the optional qualifier of "hit-and-run" to "repeated bashing" to be more interesting and much more meaningful. So with that, allow me to introduce you to the “What Vehicle Hit Me?” Scale of Pain:

• Golf cart
• Prius (not the broken accelerator kind)
• SUV
• Cargo van
• Small school bus
• Airport shuttle
• Big school bus
• Fancy pants RV bus thing
• Garbage truck
• Semi-truck

It occurred to me yesterday that I need to add one other mode of transportation to my list. I believe jabby muscle spasms are best described as “3rd-grader on a pogo stick.”

Do they even make pogo sticks anymore? Egad, I might be old. At least I’m hip to the eco-friendly Prius…