It is painful. An inch here and an inch there is more herculean than one had imagined during the normal days. Something as easy washing your ass becomes this fight of will and grit that one suddenly falls into a rapture of laughter while grimacing in the pain of getting at the butthole. Then, after days and weeks. Months even. The body and mind adjust. The mind wades through the sea of sensory data flooding in from the pain areas and takes a call the data that is worth supressing. The body on the hand understands what hurts and makes small adjustments. Not that the pills will eve go away but washing your ass becomes a tad bit easier.
Writing and a writer's block too is like washing your ass with a injured back. With persistent practice and determination, the ass does become washable.
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