I just finished reading a book called "The Thirteenth Tale" and found a paragraph in it that made me think of us. This woman is dying of cancer, I think, but she made a statement about her pain that I think we can all relate to and want to share it with you. Ron refers to pain as "The Beast" and this is much like what he talks about.
"The Wolf - yes. That black beast that gnaws at my bones whenever he gets a chance. He loiters in corners and behind doors most of the time, because he's afraid of these." She indicated the white pills on the table beside her. "But they don't last forever. It's nearly twelve and they are wearing off. He is sniffing at my neck. By half past he will be digging his teeth and claws in. Until one, when I can take another tablet and he will have to return to his corner. We are always clockwatching, he and I. He pounces five minutes earlier every day. But I cannot take my tablets five minutes earlier. That stays the same.
"Once a week, or once every ten days, the doctor adjusts the dose. Only never quite enough. He does not want to be the one to kill me, you see. And so when it comes, it must be the wolf that finishes me off."
Very expressive, don't you think? Can you relate?