The Personality of Pain

Pain is a recurrent companion of most people with chronic illness. It isn't a friendly, nice companion one desires to keep by one's side... it's one of those forced companions that travels with you whether you want it to or not. Maybe "companion" isn't the right word, but it'll have to do for now.

Does pain have a personality? I like to think it might. I sometimes think about the intestinal pain I experience because of my Crohn's Disease, and I amuse myself by personifying it.

Pain is very loud, and lets me know when it is here. Never one to announce its entrance it barges in unheralded. "Pay attention to me", it screams. "I am here, whether you want me to be or not". "So you thought you got rid of me, did you? Haha!"

Pain can also be selfish and refuses to share me with others. It wants me all to itself. When I try to explain how I feel to others, I can never quite do that effectively. Neither can anyone enter into my experience of pain. I am alone with pain, despite being surrounded by a multitude of people, and at times, when I am already feeling like a wallflower, pain practically glues me to the wall.

In the early days of my illness, prior to diagnosis, I used to curl up at night and cry myself to sleep. I didn't know what was wrong with me, why I was in pain, and I couldn't quite explain it to anyone. My loved ones were bewildered, I was mystified and frankly, depressed, and quite miserable. I had two young sons then, and getting out of bed everyday was a major challenge. Leaving home was something I rarely did, though I was a regular fixture at the playground. Close enough to home in case I needed a toilet or to rest.

Diagnosis helped me tremendously. It took 3 years of symptoms before I was diagnosed. While it came as an utter shock to be diagnosed with a chronic and incurable disease, I was relieved that finally I knew what it was and there was some kind of treatment for it. The first benefit was that I experienced far less pain. Of course the medicines had side effects, and they were awful, but the lessening of pain was simply wonderful.

I didn't miss pain... it didn't let me. It came back. It still does from time to time. But I feel differently about it now. I don't cry as much as I used to and I know that there are ways and means to manage it, and that it is part of my life. I know I will feel better soon enough as I have in the past, and so I wait for that time to come. I have come to accept pain as a visiting "companion". I don't hate it, neither do I expect to be totally rid of it but I certainly don't embrace it either.

Over the years, I realise that pain has changed me. I used to be able to take a fair bit of a pain. My classic example being the fact that I gave birth to 4 children without pain relief. Really, I did! I wonder why now, in retrospect, but that's another story! :) I do know that I have become fragile and my emotions are so brittle that now a little pain seems magnified to me.

My child's scraped knee from falling off a bicycle makes me gag, my stomach clenches, and I cannot bear to look at it. I go to the dentist and am paralysed by fear and nausea, and cry... until the jabs of anaesthesia kick in and I can manage a root canal... I watch suffering and pain on tv or read about it in the papers and I weep. I am weakened internally in some way, but I cannot explain why. I think that years of pain have taken their toll, and in some way they have sensitised me, not to make me insensitive to pain, but to give me a heightened sensitivity.

Most importantly, I have come to accept that no one can share my pain, no matter how much they may want to, or how much they love me, and my suffering is unbearable to them. They simply can't. Pain is very personal. Fortunately, I have come to a place where I no longer suffer in silence but I am able to tell the people in my life that I am in pain and they understand what I mean by that and what I need. I surround myself with the people who love me and accept me with not only my own failings, but with the added burdens of chronic illness and accompanying pain.

So, pain, that old companion of the chronically ill, when you come again I will be prepared, and I know your visit won't be long and I know I can cope because I understand our "relationship", and have the comfort of those who help me manage your visits.

Just pack a small bag for the next visit. After 12 years you've really overstayed your welcome :)

pav