A Journey Through Chronic Pain

I don’t know how many blogs I have read with posts about chronic pain. Many. But there is this common thought in many that the experience of feeling pain can and is tempered by the situation in which we find ourselves.  If we are in a good place, happy, content, then somehow the level of pain can be diminished somewhat. If we are in a place where our lives are driven by stress, then our experience is much more intense.  I know this is very much a generalization. But I have found that for me anyhow, it is true.  Friends, family, loved ones all help keep us on an even keel. But one thing is also apparent. That there are times when nothing helps, nothing tempers the level of pain and no amount of peace or solitude or contentment will reduce the level of pain. Pure and simple.

I read this somewhere the other day and had to comment. What a ubiquitous statement this is.  Every day, millions of Americans (not to say that other cultures don’t share our problem) are written prescriptions for narcotics from everything from tooth aches to cancer pain.  And every prescription comes with the above warning, that this substance has the potential for abuse.  But how many people do you think realize the true significance of this warning? If you are doled-out a few pills to get you through an acute injury, it is likely pretty small. If this condition turns into something more, becomes chronic, then that is truly a different story.
The human condition is that we seek anything we can find to alleviate pain. Pain is an unnatural state in our bodies. It is our body’s way of telling us that something is amiss. That something is broken, stressed, damaged in some way. And the normal response is for us to look for some way to fix whatever is causing the pain. But what if there is no way to fix it? What if something simple becomes something complex and there is nothing to be done but control the pain? Then what?? Do we give in to the promise that narcotics are our friend? That their use will help us to cope with whatever is bothering us? Do we give in to the potential for escalating doses? As time passes, more is needed to achieve the same result?  And when do we say “when”?? After we have overdosed the first time? The second?

There is a story that was related to me by a physician in MO who was sent to a small town in rural Missouri to provide health care in the absence of the regular physician.  He took up residence in this small town and began seeing patients for a variety of ailments, some acute, but most of them chronic. And the procession of patients through his office had an eerily similar theme. Narcotics. Not just any narcotics but Oxycontin, Duragesic, big gun narcotics and for conditions that in many ways did not warrant the use of such powerful drugs.  He began to question the patients and the prescriptions. His hesitance was greeted with anger, even threats if he didn’t continue to prescribe these drugs.  In the end, he was able to reduce the load of narcotics flowing from his office by a huge percentage. His patients were safer, healthier, and managed their pain with methods that didn’t include powerful narcotics when lesser means were an option.

Narcotics have their place in the treatment of chronic pain. Just not as a first line of defense.  I have been there, been on them to the tenth-power. Have nearly died because of them. And finally had the good sense, the insight, the fear of a life devoid of emotion, to finally quit them for good. And the potential is there to get back to a place where they become a part of my life, at least on a temporary basis. The difference now is that I hate the feeling of being out of control of my mind and body. Of being snowed and dull and without emotion.  Pain is real. Pain is part of being human. And it does take it’s toll on our bodies as well. But at least I can make the choice, that’s more than I can say for some of the people I have encountered.  The use of narcotics has so taken over their lives that using them is no longer a choice but a necessity. The pervasive drive in their lives is to make sure they don’t run out!! The next prescription, the next refill, the next doctor who will enable their behavior.  And I hate sanctimonious people. Reformed addicts and alcoholics can be very much that way. So If I seem harsh or judgmental, it is not my intention. It is simple concern for my fellow man that drive me to write this. To offer a perspective, to offer my own story, one that is fraught with mistakes, some of which could have cost me my life.  And to offer, you the reader, the opportunity to look at your options and know that there is life after narcotics. There is life with pain, but it is life that looks so much brighter, so much more hopeful than anything you can imagine while in the grip of drugs.

And believe me, there are days when I could crawl back into a bottle of pills. When I could give in to the pain once again. But it is but for the grace of god and sheer force of will that keeps me safe from this path. And it is love and hope and the promise of a life fulfilled that keeps me safe, today, tomorrow, and hopefully for a very long time.

I keep coming back to this whole idea of sharing how I feel with those around me. I have started to make a mental note whenever someone tells me how they are feeling. And this note is intended to register whether or not I feel like I am getting an honest answer!! Guess what?? Not very often do I truly feel like there is a genuine attempt to be “real” about pain.
We all try and ” protect” those we love from our pain. We try and keep how bad we are really feeling bottled-up inside us in a futile attempt to put on a good face. To appear as though nothing is wrong and in many ways, I guess appear to be superhuman! But we aren’t fooling anyone. You can see when someone is hurting, see it in their eyes, hear it in their voice, in the often weary tone that accompanies a day of feeling miserable.

But who are we really fooling? Who are we protecting when we keep things to ourselves?? Is it our own sensibilities that need adjusting? Do we need to in the words of my generation, “let it all hang out”? I don’t know that I can answer that. Dealing with and sharing how we feel is in intensely personal thing. And when you open yourself up completely, whether it is about your pain or something else, then you are vulnerable, open to the world of criticism, advise, fixers, etc who descend upon us when we hurt.