Matthew describes the feeling like "a boa constrictor tightening around your foot while it is being stabbed with a knife from the inside and simultaneously set on fire." I have witnessed his agony firsthand, because Matthew is my son.
We rarely communicate a thought that isn't contaminated in one way or another by some form of pain. Our thought and social life has been compromised by our imperfect interactions, which are grounded in latent animosities.
Long ago I learned that not all doctors are healers. But this man was a destroyer. I do not remember leaving his office, or walking over a mile home in the bitter cold. I do remember vomiting at a street curb.