I thought to write here today. Even though I don’t really want to.
It’s the topic
everyone works hard to avoid bringing into conversation.
PAIN: Chronic and
severe and endless.
With the result that
there is a loneliness that seeps over the sufferer. She knows no one
wants to hear the same old, same old. So she lies, or covers up or
uses a selection of old tropes.
Q How are you?
(1)Oh, you know.
(2)Much better than
yesterday. (Lie)
Q What does the
doctor say?
(1)We don’t say:
Well (s)he too is sick of my calls.
(2)We mumble a
selection of vagaries.
(3)Waiting for a
call.
(4)Will call them
today.
Along with the
loneliness there’s the exhaustion of just plain dealing with life.
Or not dealing.
There’s lack of
sleep for one. There’s the ongoing decision of:
(1) suffering and
being alert or
(2) ingesting
painkillers and becoming a zombie.
Friends and
relatives get impatient. I understand that.
But it really makes
things far, far worse when they ask for details of the pain and it’s
offered, only to be met with deadly silence or the clicks of an
escape hatch being opened ("gotta run, talk soon!") and the listener
vanishing.
So chronic pain is
isolating for multiple reasons. We are not looking for solutions. We
know all the solutions, we’ve explored many avenues, some involving
more pain we can’t endure.
Out tears are in
isolation along with frustration and a sense of hopelessness. And
loneliness.
We are the brave.
We learn to let very
few in to what is really going on. We forego, with longing, the things we used to do
in our health that we would simply take for granted. For example, I see someone walking on the street or in a movie and I go "look at that! they're walking with a smile!"
My big job today was
sorting my weekly pills. A job I detest with all the fires of hell.
It takes 30 minutes. If I don’t drop pills on the floor.
My helper comes
tomorrow so I don’t have to do dishes which is excruciating,
standing at the sink.
It’s over two
weeks since I slept in a bed as the recliner is the only place I can
do a series of catnaps through the night with some small semblance of comfort.
I can see why some
go insane from this kind of existence.
And so very few that
understand it.
I know I never did.
And I realize one of the greatest gifts in life we can offer each other is to listen.