If Pain Was Purple

[markkur]

Since this place is inhabited by some other mere-mortals; thought I put this up here in case it may be a small benefit to someone.

"If Pain Was Purple"

The single most difficult challenge that I have faced in my long war fighting chronic pain is the heart-breaking loss of my most valued relationships. It is terrible enough, that words such as loss or horror cannot adequately describe how difficult it is to endure constant suffering. However. far worse for me, has been the slow and torturous drifting away of my loved ones.

Like any long term illness that people must face, my struggle has been a flowing flood of questions. The list of the thoughts that center on finding answers is a long and tiresome one, that covers a multitude of topics. Personal doubts, which include; How am I dealing with this disease? Have I received proper medical care? Is there any new option? Am I a hopeless case? And the most common, the cry of despair; “Why me?”

I have lost my previous life, it is as simple as that. Mine were years of loving the sweat of my labors, making things by my own hands, being there for someone else and creating things that last. These are what I call earthy-pursuits. The same nature of efforts that men have always pursued since the dawn of time.

Losing my abilities to arthritic joints, that stab and ache in great pains has been a very trying experience. My pain-levels are so bad at times, that it sometimes feels I have a giant standing on my chest and I am now too weary to have a chance of wriggling free. As bad as that reality is, at times it is nothing compared to being discarded and forgotten by those I dearly love.

That is all I will say on my present experience. What concerns me presently is knowing I am not alone in this dilemma. As a person who is charitable to others I've sooner or later turned my attentions to the bigger picture. In the case of the difficulty of bearing a nasty disease; I know I'm not alone and also that others are experiencing all of the loss and grief I have observed and even more. It is also likely that other poor souls are in worse circumstance because they have not the strength and faith in which I have been blessed.

Now to the heart of the matter; Why are we that find ourselves living a tragedy of constant pain, so easily cast aside and forgotten by those we would never dream?
After various internal arguments surrounding my emotional struggles, I believe the best answer is, that they cannot see our monster.

During my healthy years I often saw this situation and I'm sure you have too. Someone enters a room, doesn't matter what sort. Say it's an office at work and this person strides in Monday morning sporting a cast. Quickly, compassion flows from his or her peers and is met by questions and concerns. For the purpose of this example. the accident victim gained a broken leg by skiing. I've seen this scene play out many ways; patches over an eye, a bandage etc. The most often is the very visible expression that something is really wrong is when the person is walking with crutches.

Another aspect of compassion, though it is not as common now, is the awareness given to the elderly as they navigate their world with a cane. At least some folks will open a door, grab running children or some other gesture of care and concern. I'd even call that form of awareness, respect.

My reason for thinking about all of the above is a simple one; I've have wanted to understand the decisions and resulting actions of those around me. Those unfortunates that have had to witness my demise and have been forced to do so without nearly the my detailed view of my calamity. Instead, they are on the outside and cannot see more than what emerges from me, whatever that turns out to be. My sadness, my grief, or my anger has been projected and even I have not always understood my current state.

If pain was purple, I believe that my loved ones would handle me very differently. Especially if the more wicked the pain, the darker the purple. Like a visible cast, bandage or sling they would see a strong indicator that something is very wrong. However, the curse of Chronic diseases of all types, they are invisible and because they are so, they are sometimes not even given the compassion of a crutch. But the difficulty does not end there, for there is also a time factor. The longer the illness lasts the more the invisible illness is doubted. I may be a fool but I do not suspect that the doubt rests on convictions but only on the long and weary experience if seeing their loved one slide away from the character they treasured. I hope it is that anyway.

I’ve bothered with this for one reason only; I figured if I disengaged my "woe is me” thought of others and took the time to share this hard-won insight, that maybe it would be a good idea for me to emerge into the sunlight of the public arena, share these facts and hope that both the victim of illness and those that must look on, receive some small help. It is both the least and the most I can do.

markkur