{"id":2701,"date":"2018-02-26T12:00:16","date_gmt":"2018-02-26T12:00:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wp.lancs.ac.uk\/translatingpain\/?p=2701"},"modified":"2018-02-26T12:00:16","modified_gmt":"2018-02-26T12:00:16","slug":"an-everyday-battle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp.lancs.ac.uk\/a-bel-abroad\/an-everyday-battle\/","title":{"rendered":"‘An Everyday Battle’, by Sophie Powell"},"content":{"rendered":"

Just a little twist, a sideways step to dodge out of the path of an eyes-forward businessman on a mission. My hip twists with the sideways step, then ankle and finally, knee. It\u2019s a searing pain, stabs straight through the joint like a missile and there\u2019s a battle taking place in there. My face is blank, a natural reaction to sudden, unbearable pain: a state of brief shock, no matter how many times it happens. No one would know, especially not the businessman with his dead eyes and umbrella wielded like a weapon. A friend notices my misstep and grabs my arm to speed up \u2013 the knee won\u2019t buckle, never does, so I carry on with clenched teeth and hands and eyes. Good little soldier, that knee. We walk on, the debris of dead bone \u2013 dead men \u2013 in that ordinary-looking joint waging war silently beneath my skin.<\/span><\/p>\n