I’ve been a little distracted this week. The reason for my distraction is my ankle hurts. I can read the comments now: “That’s it, that’s all you got?” Or, “Come on sissy boy toughen up, why in my day . . .”
It’s not just about the pain in my ankle. I’ve lived with pain in this ankle since 1992. Ah, the summer of 1992, the summer of pain.
Beth and I were just newlyweds. We said our “I do’s” in December of 1991 (shouldn’t I get some kind of points for knowing the date?) and not long after she got her first glimpse of that part about “for worse.”
It was a softball game, I slid into second and through second and my ankle decided to remain in front of second. I’ll spare you the rest of the details. Suffice it to say that I broke some bones and I had to have surgery. I’ve got a plate and quite a few screws as mementoes of the summer of pain.
Fast forward a few years and as the classic film suggests “I got better!” I’ve had minor ongoing soreness ever since, no big deal, get on with life.
Last Thursday I woke up and had swelling and soreness in the ankle for no obvious reason. I hobbled around a few days and Beth finally persuaded me to go see the doctor. I went to see the Doctor for an x-ray. Who knows maybe a screw is coming loose? Yes, I know, I know, more witty comments.
Now back to my distraction and my frustration. The doctor called today and said “everything looks normal.” That’s right my ankle is fine - which is why it still hurts.
Isn’t that just like our life experiences? Everyone says its normal but it still hurts. “It’s natural to feel that way after losing someone you love.” Yes, but it still hurts. “The pain you feel is normal for someone who has gone through what you’ve experienced.” Yes, but it still hurts.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not equating the nuisance of ankle pain with the crushing pain of death, loss, or other complicated life situations.
Wouldn’t it be better if in those situations we were not reminded of the normality of our pain but given a remedy? I’m thinking that one of the reasons why we remind ourselves and others that pain in life is normal is because we are not quite sure ourselves what to do about the pain.
I know I’m just one patient in who knows how many. It just would have been nice for the Doctor to have called and said “we didn’t learn why your having the problems but we’re going to try our best to learn why.”
I wonder if we have accepted, by default, that normal naturally means pain?
3 Responses to “Pain Is Normal?”
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April 22nd, 2005 at 11:36 am
Not only do I remember that softball game, but I remember how MAD I was at that game. Honestly, that was one of the angriest moments of my life. There were a number of guys who were mostly concerned with getting the hurt guy off the field so they could keep playing and…I’m not gonna lie to you…that really hacked me off. I’m sorry to hear that still flares up.
I’m having my Calculus class over in a couple of weeks because far too many of them have never seen “Holy Grail.” Look, strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.
Love you, bro.
April 22nd, 2005 at 3:11 pm
Ahh, Python.
The casual brushings off we humans give our kind when pain of any sort is mentioned is usually a ham-handed attempt to encourage said hurting person to rejoin the community of sentient beings lest depression set in and take over. Yes, pain is a problem. Pain is common. And, Randy, you’re right: care is not.
Having read ahead to the next posting about not being able to stand the quiet, I’m feeling somewhat inspired to say that we, ahem, I would do well to meet a fellow human being’s mention of pain with an understanding silence. A silence ready to listen. A silence that won’t overlook the person or the hurt in some valiant, nay, heroic effort to find a cure or solution. We can work on the healing together, later.
April 24th, 2005 at 10:59 pm
Echoing beontraveler’s seamless juxtaposition of pain and a quiet disposition in response reminds me of the immidiate reaction of Job’s friends Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar when they realized the full extent of Job’s travails. The bible records that they sat with him for seven days in silence.
Sometimes words are inadequate to transcend or assuage suffering or bring relief to pain. The congruence of silence and pain becomes even more evident later on in the account of Job when his friends began to speak.
It became apparent then how much they misapprehended what was going on. Silence it turned out after much grandstanding masquerading as eloquence (Job’s friends knew their stuff by the way. They just missed the point) was the most appropriate response.