For the past six months, I’ve been favouring one of my bottom left molars. Intense searing pain drills into my brain if anything hot or cold touches it. Or if I inadvertently chew on it.
It throbs at night. ALL night.
I’m existing on heavy-duty painkillers and anti-inflammatory pills - diclofenac, extra strength. Antibiotics.
If I was back in the dark ages, a village healer would have numbed it with cloves or some other herbs, a mind-numbing concoction imbibed and the tooth yanked out. I dream of this scenario.
PULL IT OUT… PLEASE!
It’s the 21st century.
There are options — although when I visited my dentist six months ago he did say,
“We could pull it out?”
I’m too vain to have a big, gaping hole evident in my mouth when I smile. Not an option.
So, a chunk of cash later, I received a new filling to see if my tooth would settle down.
It hasn’t.
My life has become about my tooth, or specifically, the PAIN
in my tooth.
When I wake up, what or when I eat is determined by how many painkillers I need. I have an upset tummy and diarrhoea due to all the pills I’m taking.
I wish I could get a big shot of morphine!
Luckily I’m booked in for a root canal treatment in six days. It has to be done and hopefully, I’ll be pain-free after.
My natural exuberance and joy for life will return.
Life will be a lot
easier.
Whenever I have an experience with ongoing, chronic pain, I reflect upon the people who live like this continually.
How do they keep going?
How do they cope with persistent physical pain?
How do they manage some of the terrible side effects of painkilling medications?
I bow down before any person enduring daily, constant, debilitating pain.
I am in awe of those people who survive this never-ending pain with a calm countenance, good humour and patient attitude.
I massage a young man who lives with immense courage. An ex snowboard coach and high-level competitor — his life was full of action and adventure.
A few years ago he misjudged a snowboard jump, landed badly and shattered the bones in his right lower leg. This wasn’t the biggest problem though. He developed Compartmental Syndrome and was left with permanent muscle and nerve damage.
Now he lives with constant high levels of pain due to the injury. He exists on a cocktail of medications. To be completely pain-free messes with his mind and he feels like a zombie. Too little pain relief and he doesn’t sleep.
He’s decided on the middle ground — a certain amount of consistent pain but with a relatively clear mind.
He is NEVER
completely pain-free.
Massage helps him relax. It doesn’t take away his pain.
It soothes his mind.
Some days he struggles to cope — to find the strength to keep being positive. He has a 7-year-old son, a loving wife, a business he manages from home. The pain is always
there.
He swims most days. He uses crutches or a wheelchair to move around. He has learnt to use a sit-ski and hits the slopes in winter.
He says,
“I know when I do something physical like sit-skiing, my pain will be much worse for a few days after. But my mind needs the freedom I receive from doing it.”
Living with physical pain takes a lot of energy.
Sometimes it must get too
much.
If you know someone who lives with pain — be supportive. Don’t assume anything.
Ask them if they’re coping and if they need some help.
I know my tooth will come right. If the root canal doesn’t work and there’s still pain — I’ll get it pulled.
What if this was it though?
What if for the rest of my life I had to endure this level of pain?
I would hate it. I would find it hard to live my life with enthusiasm.
I might wish I was dead.
Be mindful of your friends who might be dealing with physical pain. Believe them when they say they’re suffering. They’re not being wimpy or pathetic. Their pain is real.
Offer them your support. Be there for them. Be aware of their mental state.
Do they need more help? A professional counsellor? Different medication? Alternative approaches — massage, acupuncture, hypnotherapy?
If it’s you, and your life is framed by the physical pain you experience, everyday, ongoing, unrelenting — my
heart goes out to you.
My hope is you find support and you can keep going as you seek to live a life of meaning for yourself.