In the hallowed  halls of literary academia, few topics are debated with such ferocity and intellectual vigor as the arcane origin of phrases such as, "time to pay the piper"; except, perhaps, whether to go out for lunch or order in.  Yes, believe it or not, the debate over this particular phrase has been raging unabated for more than a century with no end in sight. 

On one side, there are those who put forth that the phrase is a reference to the rather morbid story/legend of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.  The Pied Piper was working a gig in a 13th century village, where he was tasked with leading all the rats out of the village with his sweet sounds.  After accomplishing this feat, the villagers refused to pay him.  In answer to this outrage, the Pied Piper played again, but this time he led all the children out of the village with his music and they were never seen again.  Thus, the phrase implies that you have to pay the piper one way or another.

Pitted against this figurative explanation are those who favor a more literal interpretation of the phrase.  At one time street musicians were common - including pipers - and it was customary to pay them for their entertainment services.  In support of this argument, the practical camp points out that proverbs emerged about this very subject, including, "He that dances should always pay the fiddler."  The practical camp believes the phrase is a simple derivation of one of these proverbs.

In the end history will decide who is right; but regardless of the outcome, in the here and now, many Chiari patients understand the meaning of the phrase "pay the piper" at a more visceral level.  For those who live with Chiari every day, paying the piper means that if you overdo it one day, you will pay for it the next.

This is simply a reality of living with Chiari.  Does it mean we should always take it easy and never take a chance?  In my opinion, no.  Two Sundays ago, my wife and I took our three kids to a local attraction, a Science Center.  We arrived before it opened and didn't leave until 7 hours later when it closed.  Seven hours on my feet, walking, chasing the kids, but most importantly, having a great time.  It was a special day, but in the back of my mind, I knew there would be a price to pay.

When we got home that night, my legs were aching like they hadn't in years and my neck felt like a knife had been stuck into it.  I barely answered the bell the next morning, but did manage to drag myself out of bed and somehow get through the day.  I skipped my usual workouts for the first part of the week as my legs didn't start to feel better until much later in the week.  It was a tough recovery, but I felt victorious.  Five years ago, even two years ago, I wouldn't have thought I would be able to make it though a day like that, much less enjoy it.

My point is this, for those who are struggling and trying to live with what Chiari and syringomyelia have dealt you, don't be afraid to enjoy the music sometimes, just be ready to pay the piper when he comes calling.

-- Rick Labuda