Say Uncle
I have a very high pain threshold. That was a good thing in my childhood when I was having "Say Uncle" fights with my sadistic brother. And in my very athletic youth it probably saved me from an addiction to pain meds. Following my ski accident it saved me from melting my liver or ruining my kidneys with NCIDs. But I had a kidney stone for a year and a half and never convinced anyone I was in pain until I passed out at the civic light opera performance. My nurse sister, who also has a high pain threshold, tells me I should learn to yell and scream and roll on the floor more. But I just refuse to act like a whiny girl. Cowgirls don't cry. You get up, dust yourself off, and get back on the horse. Recovery from my various injuries incurred as a victim of a hit and run on the ski slope (actually he didn't run but it sounds so dramatic) I became very acquainted with pain scale charts. Though I had a very hard time identifying with the numbers. The smiley faces help...