I'm kind of an established wimp when it comes to matters of pain, but I really need to know on the spectrum where charlie horses fit in. Because, this morning as I was gripped with lightening agony that left me writhing and biting my pillow, I can say that was a 8.5, 9. I will save the 10 for a possible future of decapitation . . . wouldn't want to be left with nowhere to go, ya know?
But my husband came to my rescue almost instantaneously, figuring out the problem in his 6 am haze, and massaging on either side of my calf muscle exactly how I needed it to get the muscle to stop spasming. This was good, because I could do little other to explain than a few high-pitched grunts. Thanks, husband. I forgive you for the ant thing.
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