One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and… I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire. The nurse asked me to rate the pain, though I couldn’t speak I held up nine fingers. Later, when I start to feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. "You know how I know?" she said, "you called a 10 a 9." But that wasn’t the truth. I didn’t called it a 9 ‘cause I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10.
And this was it. This was the great and terrible 10.
“I would always tell her where my hands were going to be, ‘Girl, I’m going to touch your thigh, then your chest.’ Pretty soon [Schilling] was like, ‘I don’t care where your hands are going to be, I trust you, touch me wherever the hell you want.’”