Pain is a simple message received from the nerves as a warning sign when something is truly wrong. Experiencing pain is something I have spent copious time fearing, yet it is inescapable. Pain visits everyone at some point in life, but not all pain is bad. Sometimes it is a useful warning sign, a bothersome but important message to the recipient.
I developed a severe blood clot at the age of 17 that could have taken my life, and because I experienced pain, I knew to go to the hospital. As an adult, I have spent days in my bed dealing with conditions that cause chronic pain. Instead of allowing pain to rule my life, I’ve found that experiencing it has let me loosen my attempts at control and acknowledge the gifts each day provides. In letting go, I can feel more love and joy than previously imaginable.
In my teen years, I learned that not all pain is a warning that something is wrong. Around that time, I started experiencing migraines. While the sparkling lights of the aura that accompanied the pain were rather pretty, the pain alerted me to nothing. A migraine is a falsely pulled fire alarm in your brain at its own choosing. I tried to control this pain by finding its triggers—what causes the migraine to occur. If I knew the source of the pain, I could stop it. Some people stop drinking wine, for instance, while others can’t consume chocolate. My triggers happen to be weather pressure changes and hormonal fluctuations. Everything is left out of my control.
My migraines and cluster headaches feel as though every bone in my face is being crushed. I cannot function, I cannot think, I cannot speak. I have been in such severe pain from these headaches that I’ve passed out. But I’ve discovered my pain is better managed if I take a few deep breaths and meditate. I breathe in the pain; I breathe out the pain. I work with the discomfort rather than fight it. Once I release the control I try to have over the situation, I am able to reach the calm.
As soon as the migraines were under control, with the help of my doctors and plenty of patience during the trial and error of medications, I was diagnosed with cervical dystonia. What I thought was a simple pulled muscle turned into the right side of my neck becoming completely immobile. I began experiencing pain each day from the dystonia, which, unlike my migraines, never had a point of relief I could count on. I now get Botox injected into my neck, in addition to the treatment I was already receiving for my migraines, so I can regain range of motion in my neck—in total, about 50 injections. I will continue to require these injections every 12 weeks to keep my neck moving, but there are many for whom this treatment is ineffective. One thing this new challenge has taught me is to not lose hope.
When faced with daily pain, it is easy to focus on its never-ending nature. I found myself wondering how I could still manage to be in that level of pain a week out, a month out, a year out. At that point I allowed myself to pause and pull myself back into the current moment. That’s when I realized that because I experienced something so raw and gripping, I’d also learned to experience the beauty of things at a much deeper level. The warmth of the sun shining on my face has more meaning because it is such a stark contrast to the throes of anguish my body goes through. The kiss from another is more tender and relished in comparison to the brash nature of pain that permeates my bones.
I recently developed a vascular condition that causes pain that rivals my migraines and neck issues. The valves in my leg veins do not pump blood back to my heart correctly. If I am on my feet or sitting for too long, it congests in my legs, creating swelling and pain. At its worst, I feel like I’m walking on broken legs. The pain in my hip came on very suddenly while driving. Within two weeks, I went from slight pain to barely being able to sit up straight or bear weight on my leg. Eventually I needed a cane for assistance. As a single young woman trying to put together a social life, I can admit that needing assistance with walking is dismaying. I picked out the brightest-colored cane I could find with pink rose print. I wanted to make a statement on how I choose to see my circumstances. With the pain, I found myself waiting patiently for the 4-hour mark to come, so I could once again take medication that only ripples the surface of the deep discomfort. Luckily, days of rest and wearing full-leg compression stockings daily eased the need for this. However, the compression stockings encroach a bit on any “young and fashionable” vibe.
While I always try to be honest with my loved ones, I cannot help but try to hide the effects of my chronic pain and illnesses. My recent leg issues have made having a 20-something’s social life challenging. To those who know me, this does not matter. If I can only manage to watch movies in bed, I know I can count on them to watch with me. I have learned to trust my bond with others, to keep an open heart, and to know that I am enough. Even though I can’t always be where they are, their loving and kind words give me fortitude through the toughest challenge.
On a day-to-day basis, pain does not have as much control over my life if I find reasons to smile or laugh. Yes, in life, we will experience pain at some point, but it is up to each and every person to decide how he or she will welcome it. Pain does not have to mean suffering. While I cannot control the circumstances that have presented my chronic pain, I can decide to grow and learn from how I live each day with it.