One Night of Incredible Pain

My eyes followed hers. Looking me in the face, then my body. Taking me in. Evaluating me. 

Judging me.

Her eyes lingered on my legs, specifically my calves. The part of my body I’d hated all my life. I was born with bigger legs, with bigger calves. Generally I wasn’t a heavy guy. Not too tall, slightly stocky I guess. I considered myself above average looking. I took good care of myself. Ate well. No gaudy tattoos. Toned arms, strong biceps. Not too much of a belly. Generally a good looking guy.

But her eyes lingered on those damn calf muscles. 

Then I was swiftly and rudely dismissed. Donning shorts and a polo, fruity cruise drink in my hand, I’d tried approaching her at the bar. Offering to buy her a drink. Introducing myself as Kyle.

But the calves did me in. I’d struck out. Big time. 

That’s how I found myself forty minutes later on Deck 11 of the ship, nursing a cocktail and gazing out over the water. The sky had gone dark, and the water was a mass of black waves rolling over each other, fighting for prominence. The moon was bright, and the stars were emerging. I honed in on the first one I saw, and - okay, this is silly and childish - but I made a wish.

“Star light, star bright,” I said softly to myself, mortified at the thought of anyone overhearing me. “First star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

I closed my eyes, recounting my embarrassing encounter with that woman earlier.

“I wish for skinny calves.”

I finished my drink and returned to my state room.

—

The pain started shortly after I tried laying down for the night. I’d been in the hospital for a minor surgery a few years back, and the nurses had used a pain scale of 1 to 10. At that moment I was probably about a 3. Definitely some pain in my legs, but nothing unmanageable. 

I tried to sleep through it. I closed my eyes and tried some of my usual tricks to fall asleep. No, I’m not talking about counting sheep, but I did try to recount the Baltimore Orioles lineups from the 1990s in my head. Shortstop was easy - Ripken. Now, when did they get Alomar again? Usually by the time I hit about 1996 I was zonked out. But not tonight.

I tossed and turned for an hour or so. No sleep. I looked at my phone. It was past midnight. The pain was no longer a 3. By this point it was a solid 5. My legs - my calf muscles in particular - felt like they were being twisted like a god damn pretzel. Like the worst Charley Horse I’d ever suffered through.

I didn’t see myself sleeping anytime soon. I threw on some sweat pants and grabbed my room key, making my way up to the pool deck. 

I’d splurged on the unlimited drink plan, and I was glad I had. I approached the bar and ordered a rum and Coke. Make it strong, I requested. I pounded the drink and went for a walk - slowly and gingerly. With each step I felt a searing pain in my calves. 

What the hell was going on?

I wandered the deck for a while, eventually stopping to chat with a group of smokers. I’d quit years ago, and while I craved one now I held off. I didn’t want the nicotine buzz keeping me up. 

I chatted with an older couple about their grown children, who’d left their parents in Florida and moved to California and DC, respectively. The kids called once every two weeks, one on Sunday afternoons and the other on Monday evenings. These two were nearing retirement, and enjoying being empty nesters.

Not a scintillating conversation by any means, but it helped keep me distracted from the pain. At various points I wondered if my face gave away my discomfort. Could they tell this strange man they were talking to was on the verge of doubling over in pain?

I wrapped up the conversation and made my way back to the bar. Another rum and Coke.

I’d love to say the drinks helped, either to relieve the pain or to make me drowsy… but they did neither.

—

The pain was now around a 7, maybe 7 and a half. I made my way back to my room, where I tried laying down once more. Again I rested my head on the pillow, this time watching old reruns on my iPad. 

My legs felt like they were on fire. 

I thought back to my younger years. These damn calves. I’d first noticed they were larger than most when I was a freshman in high school. I was in gym class, wearing my athletic shorts and playing team handball. A kid, some asshole named Darren, started poking fun of my legs. He got a few laughs at my expense, and the rest of the year I wore sweat pants in gym class. His comments - and the other kids’ laughter - stuck with me.

I shouldn’t complain though - my younger sister has it worse. She’s cursed with large calves as well, and she’s told me that it’s even harder being a girl with this particular trait. Girls are supposed to be small and dainty. Not look like they can kick your skull in. Even now, in her twenties, she avoids wearing shorts or skirts. 

Holy crap, my legs were hurting… Could this ACTUALLY be because of my wish? I had serious doubts. I’ve never been one to believe in magic. I’d only made the wish because… well, I was just frustrated and feeling down. It was all just a lark. 

I never expected my calves to actually shrink. Was this pain my body responding to my wish, and I was going through the excruciating process of my muscles shrinking? No. Come on. This was just a coincidence. Right?

It was nearly 3 in the morning. Sleep wasn’t coming. I again left my room, now walking even more gingerly, down to deck 6. The casino.

—

Who knows, maybe magic and wishes and stuff like that actually were real? I debated this, hunched over and trying to massage my calves, as I approached a slot machine. Maybe there were some unexplainable cosmic forces at play tonight? Maybe it would also be my lucky night? Maybe I’d put in a dollar and win thousands?

No. Definitely not. 

I lost that first dollar. Then forty more, all in a matter of minutes.

I walked over to the casino bar and ordered a beer. As I sipped my drink, I watched the people around me.

I started off examining the legs, particularly the calves, of my fellow gamblers. No, I wasn’t the only person with larger legs. Why the hell did this bother me so much? Was I too soft, too sensitive? Or was I just hearing my dad’s voice in my head telling me to toughen up? 

As my people-watching continued, I began really looking closer at those around me. Not a single person was without their flaws. Sure, I knew this already, that people come in all shapes and sizes. And yet as I took in the room, it didn’t seem like anyone else’s flaws were actively bothering them. So why me?

I finished my beer and stood up. The pain, now at a solid 9, was overwhelming. I nearly fell over. If anyone nearby noticed this, they didn’t let on. Hell, it was nearly 4 AM, anyone would likely just assume I’m drunk. Oddly, the alcohol seemed to have no effect though. Not only did I not feel intoxicated in any way, but I didn’t feel tired either. And the booze certainly was not numbing the pain.

How long would this last? 

I slowly walked back to my state room. I debated going to the medical center. Maybe they’d have some pain killers or something. But I couldn’t explain it - I knew there was no point. There would be nothing they’d be able to do for me.

And if this was in fact my body transforming itself, dragging me through a gauntlet of pain in the process, maybe I just needed to let it run its course.

I also had this feeling that this was something I needed to go through alone.

In my room, I rummaged through my bag and found some melatonin. Normally I’d take just one or two. I took four. 

I laid back down in bed, and tried reading a paperback I’d picked up at the airport. The latest legal thriller. Honestly it wasn’t very good. Too slow. Boring. But maybe boring would do the trick?

The pain… the pain hit a 10. Holy shit this hurt. Was this like what childbirth felt like? If it was, I’d never been so glad to be a man. 

My vision became blurry, and the room around me started spinning. I’d left the lamp on, and the light seemed to swirl around me. The pain, while concentrated in my calves, now enveloped my entire body. I fought the urge to scream, not wanting to wake my fellow cruisers.

The pain… such… terrible… pain… it…

—

I don’t know how long I was out. When I woke up the sun was out, peaking in past my curtains and brightening the room. My phone was dead, so I had no idea what time it was.

The pain was gone, thank god. 

I laid my head back down on the pillow, as tears slid down my face. I’d made it through the night. No more pain.

Then I considered my calves. Were they… Could it… 

I was scared to check. I lay paralyzed for nearly a minute.

Then I tossed the blanket aside, and looked down at my legs.

What the hell…?