The audio version of this post can be found here.
One thing that's always bothered me about how people who don't suffer from chronic illnesses talk to those of us who do is the way that the 'Don'ts' talk about pain. Specifically, learning to ignore it.
I could never truly figure out why, or at least put words to it, until one night about 5 or 6 years ago when I ended up in the emergency room.
I'd been out at my favorite dive bar, and my back had been hurting all night. Every few minutes I would run to the bathroom. I was annoyed, and sore, and had never experienced anything quite like it before- a pain that grows almost so gradually that you don't notice until it's excruciating. I remember a family member picking me up and driving me to the hospital, trying to drive as gently as possible because every single bump or jostle made me scream in pain.
I was taken back pretty quickly- at least, I think I was- everything was pretty foggy thanks to the horrible pain. I wanted someone to knock me out- anything to make it stop. Finally, they put an IV into my arm and injected me with Some sort of painkiller. Almost immediately, the pain eased- and just as quickly I was out like a light.
That instance made something crystal clear to me that I had, on some level, always known:
Pain is really fucking exhausting.
I'm talking truly, mentally and physically exhausting.
So when people talk about getting over the pain or ignoring it, I always end up wanting to yell at them. Because, while it's true that pain IS a neural response- sensory receptors in our body send a message to our brains which process the sensation which we perceive as pain- it's not a voluntary one.
Think about it this way- pain is a way that the body has developed to tell you that something is wrong. But it's not like a comprehensive system you can just override with a few simple commands. The pain response is more like the anti-theft alarm on an older model car. Whatever sets it off- be it someone kicking the bumper or actually breaking in- the ultimate response is the same: the alarm sounds. Now, there are only a few ways that the alarm stops. You can damage the car, you can temporarily disable the alarm, or you can wait for it to reset (or speed up the process yourself).
Leaving off the car alarm analogy, my point is that the body's pain response CANNOT actually be ignored- if you are in pain, it takes up some of your mental capacity. YOU may not be thinking about it constantly, but it is constantly running in the background- that response triggering those receptors over and over and over, making your brain work a bit harder. Making you use more mental energy.
I recently tried to explain the premise of this blog post to someone. "But that's not really true," he argued "Because some people can get over it." For 'proof' of his concept he cited a football player famous for getting hurt- a lot - and getting right back in the game. Comparatively, he drew my attention to another player famous for getting a relatively minor hand injury, who was out of the game for a few weeks.
There are several problems with this comparison- but it, itself, brings me to my other point: Not everyone deals with pain the same way. The wonky and wonderfully frustrating thing about the human body is that there are subtle differences in the way we experience pain- and in the level of energy it takes to process it.
In fact, the comparison between those two players highlights the very problem of disregarding that fact- one person is not 'lesser' than the other because their pain tolerance is perceived to be lower. You cannot, and should not, compare the way one person performs while in pain to the way another does.
It comes down to a technique that we learn early in our lives as a way to relate to each other: comparing our perception and experiences with those of another person in order to establish a connection with them. It's a crucial lesson for a child because it introduces the basic concept of empathy. "You are like me, so I can relate and should act accordingly- I should treat you the way I want to be treated because you are the same as me."
But the important thing to remember is that that is a very simplistic version of empathy.
The advanced version that we must use in order to form full fledged adult connections with each other which are not harmful or dismissive is this:
"You are like me, and, even though we are not the same, I will respect what you are going through without judgement by comparison."
To people who don't suffer from chronic pain: Please be mindful of how you speak to the people in your lives who do. Exercise empathy. Pain isn't voluntary, and turning it off isn't a choice. Overall, remember that telling someone who is in pain to get over it or ignore it is unhelpful. All pain is valid, and everyone is different. Stop telling us how we should deal with it.
