The word fuck never crossed my lips until I got sick. Until I got vertigo, to be exact. I had just started my first grown-up (i.e. non academic) job (Public Relations) in June 2000. I even had my own cubicle and business cards. Then I woke up the day after Independence Day with everything spinning. When the doctor diagnosed me with labyrinthitis, telling me there was nothing that he could do and I just had to wait up to 6 weeks for it to leave on its own, I walked to the bus stop across the street from my clinic and let out a torrent of Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Turns out, it may have been a good coping mechanism. Indeed this study shows that swearing actually can help reduce the intensity of pain -- something else that increased a great deal once I got sick. And needless to say, I swear like a sailor now. Though according to the psychologist who did the study, the more you swear, the less effective it may be.
A new, more substantive post is forthcoming. Illness and other events have conspired to limit my blogging of late, but not my thinking. Hopefully I'll be sharing some of those thoughts I've been itching to blog about in the next day or so.
[Cross-posted at Behind the Surface]
Turns out, it may have been a good coping mechanism. Indeed this study shows that swearing actually can help reduce the intensity of pain -- something else that increased a great deal once I got sick. And needless to say, I swear like a sailor now. Though according to the psychologist who did the study, the more you swear, the less effective it may be.
A new, more substantive post is forthcoming. Illness and other events have conspired to limit my blogging of late, but not my thinking. Hopefully I'll be sharing some of those thoughts I've been itching to blog about in the next day or so.
[Cross-posted at Behind the Surface]