Chronic pain is the most complex and difficult
feeling to describe. It is my constant feeling. It is the same as asking
someone to describe how breathing and blinking feels. It is less of a feeling,
it is more of a state of existing.
Every time I go to the doctor or emergency
room, they ask me to rate my pain on a scale of one to 10 and describe it. It
is almost impossible to remember the last time I had a pain-free day, I have
days that are manageable but not close to pain-free. This makes it impossible to rate my pain, if I have no “one” on my
scale. I have days with less pain to compare it to but that is the extent of my
ranking ability. Chronic pain patients cannot be asked to identify their
pain the same way as people without. It is totally different. It is comparing a
child who has not had a true meal in months and is legitimately starving
to death to someone who had to fast for 12 hours. It is simply not the same.
When they ask me to describe it, I have to
hold back laughter. It feels like my life, it feels like my existence. It
feels like staying at home on a Friday night when all of my friends go out and
have fun. It feels like blinking back tears when the elevator is broken and I
have to climb six floors to go to my apartment, knowing I will move as slowly
as possible and still hurt after.
It feels like having scars from a heating pad
burn my skin from using it for hours on end. It feels like an overbearing
parents or controlling partner that I constantly have to check in with and see
if I am allowed to do something. It feels like the worst day of the flu but you
are expected to continuing living your life. Nobody cares that you have the flu
and you need to stop complaining because “everyone has aches and pains.”
My life exists in a constant state of pain. My body is constantly hurting. My mind
is constantly hurting from being held back from my dreams because of my body’s
limitations. When I am asked to describe it, I cannot express it in
words like “throbbing, aching, stabbing, or burning” because that isn’t what it
is. Those terms express a surface level pain. It is the way that you describe a
burn from a stove or a sprained ankle. This pain is constant. It feels like the
worst leg cramp of your life but lasts for hours on end. It feels like my knees
are going to give out on me at any second because I am pushing myself to be on
the same level as my peers. It feels like there is something inside of me
trying to claw its way out of my abdomen. It feels like I ran into a brick wall
repeatedly. These are feelings most people cannot fathom.
Since most people cannot fathom the idea of
being in pain all of the time, not showing it, and continuing to go about your
daily life they just chose to ignore it. Whether that is to protect themselves
against the idea that a loved one could hurt that much and they can’t help or
it is out of disbelief because they cannot see the condition causing the pain,
it is a reality for millions of people.
Understand why it is difficult to explain to
people without chronic pain. Believe people can still be hurting even if you
don’t see them struggling. Be there for them when nobody else is. Try to be
understanding when they may be short tempered with you. Understand that chronic
pain is terrifying and isolating because there is no promise that we will ever
feel better. Give us hope that even if there is no promise of a pain free day,
there is the promise of people that love and care.
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