Pain 101

I was laying in bed, not able to sleep, with my knee throbbing (don't drive a motorcycle into a brick wall) when I started contemplating the purpose of pain.  I know there are books on it, there is entire medical specialty devoted to it, numerous therapies so that some can cope, but why?

I then let my mind wander into the different types of pain, and reasonable explanations for it.  I think, as humans, the rationalization of what we experience must be what keeps us sane.  And, to that end, there may be some explanation for why the inability to process pain in a helpful way can drive some to insanity.

Pain in my experience has two purposes, teacher and healer.  Some experiences allow for both, some only one.  Those that experience pain with no resolution are those that can never be completely alive. Let's start at the very beginning, (the one I'm most familiar with) childbirth.

I see anxious mothers every day, asking "How will I know if I'm in labor?"  I always say the same thing, "Babies don't come out without a lot of bleeding, or pain.  If you have neither, you're probably not in labor."  To that end, labor pain is probably one of the most demanding physical pains imaginable, but, manageable.  Why?  It is because is predictable and because it has a visual (or time able) endpoint.  It is when you can wrap your head around this, that you can do it.  Of course, there are modifying factors like pitocin, or a baby in an unusual position, but if we didn't have epidurals in our backs we could do it.  We just don't want to.  We are programmed to fear pain, and therefore, if we have a reasonable escape, we take it.  It doesn't make you any less human, or motherly, for that matter, (I had epidurals with all of my children) but I think that any mother that has labored can tell you that it is one of the most painful experiences of their lives.  But here's the golden nugget, epidural or not, we learned something that day.  We all learned that we can take on more pain than we could have imagined, we learned that we can, in love, create life and push it into existence.  The Father learns something too, (I'm paraphrasing from a nursery nurse on this one) that his wife is strong enough to kick his ass.

As a child, pain also serves as teacher.  You usually only shut your finger in the door once.  You fall riding your bike, but you learn balance.  You fall in the frozen over lake only once; step in a hornet's nest only once.  Additionally, you learn, that when hurt, you go for help.  When you receive the assistance that you need, then you begin to heal.  We all know that there is nothing magic in a band-aid, except for the loving person that placed it on your knee.  As time moves forward, the hurts become less visible, yet more profound. 

Some of the hardest pain to comprehend is disease or sudden death.  Often times, this pain is an infinitely deep hole within us or, it is the suffering that we do out of empathy and anger for the pain of another.  This is when we, as humans, try to comprehend the complexity of the life cycle.  I have thought about this for many years, and have no acceptable answer.  I've held 10 week old babies in my hand, with the Mother's head against my chest, both of us sobbing.  I've been to glorious celebrations of life that lasted more than 90 years, and yet, the pain is there, palpable in my throat. Even now, as I write, my chest is heavy for a 16 and 26 year old fighting cancer with their very life. The weight on my chest is for both of these girls, in the prime of their life, hoping that their physical pain is purposeful in some way, and praying that their families learn something valuable from their struggles.  And they will.

You see, there is no one on this earth that can understand the loss of baby like a mother that's lost one of her own.  Some of the most caring, compassionate people (many whom have formed organizations to help others world wide) are those who have lost someone to a chronic illness or a sudden death. Rationalization of pain in this way, and putting it to constructive use, both teaches and heals.

Sometimes, though, pain just has to be absorbed quietly, in solitude.  Sometimes it pours down your cheeks uncontrollably.  Sometimes, there's no lap, no band aid, no hand to hold but your own.  These are the times when pain teaches the greatest life lessons.  These are the times when you learn that you can go it alone, that you did all that you could, that you have to let go, that you are good enough, and that eventually, it's going to be okay.  It really is darkest just before dawn, (I promise, I've been looking out the window for a while writing this) and the sun will shine again.