Bruiting About Bruises

In the shower I discovered a small, slightly yellow bruise on my right biceps.

I can't for sure recall how the bruise might have gotten there. I can't recall a bump or jostle or collision. I can't recall being hit there by anyone, not even in jest.

I, I, I.
Aye, there's the rub!

When it comes to bruised egos and bruised feelings, however, I tend to recall all the micro-details. (Don't you too?) How non-Buddhist of me.

Bruit. I like that word. I'm probably using it slightly wrong in the heading, but it's my blog and I'll blog how I want to.

And I'm surprised to learn through Merriam-Webster's pronunciation feature that the word is just one syllable.

The Topography of Pain

About six weeks ago, I slipped on black ice. I didn't fall to the ground, but my left leg went flying out from me, asunder from the mainframe, making feel as if a bullet had entered my hamstring. It was evening. I almost thought I might pass out from this breathtaking shock, or that I'd need to call from my cellphone to get help into the house. I managed to walk, got some traction, and limped through the home portal.

Several days later, in the shower, I noticed a shocking but luridly beautiful bruise running from the back of my upper thigh, near my groin, to well below my knee, down to the calf almost to my ankle. A bruise without even falling. I asked BalletDaughter, who witnesses or experiences many leg injuries, is that possible? Have you seen it? Yes. Ice it. R.I.C.E., which, I think, stands for rest, ice, compression, elevation. I iced it in Germany. The bruise more or less bled downward and dissipated. But I can still feel the tug of the pulled hamstring from certain movements.

Bruises.

They take a long time to heal. A very long time.

Especially the unseen ones, outside the domain of the physical.

What acronym, as in R.I.C.E. above, would be recommended for the healing of spiritual bruises?