Friday, January 30, 2009

Pain, Pain, Go Away: Dealing with Chronic Pain

I knew last week when I mentioned I live with chronic pain, I would receive a lot of inquiries. I heard from several fibromyalgia sufferers, people like myself, who seriously need the support of others who deal with this mysterious ailment and desperately want the compassion of others.

I also heard from the curious, the stoic, and, the cynical, those who believe fibromylagia is just the syndrome du jour of yuppie middle-aged women. And so it is when you reveal an uncomfortable truth about yourself. People have questions. Some have doubts. All need information.

So this week, I am going to address the innocent, yet frustrating, refrain: "You don't look like you are in pain."  Earlier this evening, I went in search of a pictorial depiction of pain. I wanted to see that which I obviously do not resemble. Here is what I found...the ubiquitous pain chart many hospitals give patients after surgery or other painful procedures to assist us in describing the undescribable.

Okay, so we all can agree, there is no resemblance between YaYa and the happy faces gone awry above.

The faces actually have some credibility; its the verbal descriptions that are an insult to anyone struggling to function with pain. Who is going to take seriously: "I hurt a little bit"? Who is going to prescribe a pain killer for: "It hurts a little more"? When does "It hurts even more" become "It hurts a whole lot"?

Years ago, my Mom, a nurse, taught her children certain words to help explain unpleasant body sensations. We learned terms to describe degrees of discomfort. I seem to remember words like: "soar, achey, throbbing pain, burning pain, and stabbing pain." All of which, by the way, can describe fibromyalgia, along with the phrase "electric shocking pain" which is my term for the neural pain that can accompany this disorder.

Pain is such a subjective phenomenon, and there does not exist a universally accepted chart that accurately depicts everyone's experience. I did discover a verbal explanation that sufferers could find helpful. This pain scale, designed by Andrea Mankoski, is considered useful in describing the severity, if not the quality, of pain.

(Whenever a medical professional  asks you to rate your pain from 1 - 10, ask for a pain scale so you can be sure you're speaking the same language.)
 
0 - Pain free
1 - Very minor annoyance - occasional minor twinges.
2 - Minor annoyance - occasional strong twinges.
3 - Annoying enough to be distracting.
4 - Can be ignored if you are really involved in your work, but still distracting.
5 - Can't be ignored for more than 30 minutes.
6 - Can't be ignored for any length of time, but you can still go to work and participate in social activities.
7 - Makes it difficult to concentrate, interferes with sleep You can still function with effort.
8 - Physical activity severely limited. You can read and converse with effort. Nausea and dizziness set in as factors of pain.
9 - Unable to speak. Crying out or moaning uncontrollably - near delirium.
10 - Unconscious. Pain makes you pass out.

Throughout the year, depending on such things as the weather, my workload, my level of physical activity, my weight, my mental health, the stress in my life, and the quality of my sleep, I fluctuate between six and eight on this scale. 

Since so many people are visual learners, I have made an effort to show you my pain levels. To do so, I solicited the help of a familiar cartoon character: Wile E. Coyote(WEC).

1. WEC reading a book = I feel fine.


2. WEC holding a  help sign = My head, neck, and shoulders are aching and burning; I am waking up frequently during the night due to the discomfort.







3. WEC with mousetraps attached to his
extremities = I am hurting everywhere;
sleep is painful and sporadic. I know my pain
will increase because the quality of my sleep is decreasing.

 

4. Boulder crashing down on WEC's head = Heavy fatigue has set in. I am experiencing "fibrofog"--difficulty thinking and concentrating.



5. WEC is crashing = So is YaYa. My hips and legs throb; I feel dizzy and nauseous from the fatigue and pain. A fibromylagic flare-up is in effect.



6. WEC experiences a complete crash and burn =  Unfortunately, once I have a full-fledged flare-up, I   do not know how long it will last--sometimes weeks, sometimes months.  Luckily, with a multi-pronged approach to treatment, I am able to keep my fibromyalgia in check most of the time. Some  patients must stop working if their flare-ups persist and worsen.  
                                                                               

Next week: Dancing to the beat of a different drummer.








              










Friday, January 23, 2009

A Delicate Balance

A visitor recently questioned me about the stacks of river rocks he saw throughout my home and on the balconies.

"What are these," he asked in a curious little boy kind of way.

"They're rocks," I replied.

"Yeah, but what are they for?"

For a moment I was stumped.

I have used these smooth stones to adorn my space over the past few years, after once seeing an impressive number of them along the perimeter wall of a local beach. Stones, washed up from the sea, not of uniform size, placed precariously one on  top of another. They spoke to me then; they speak to me now.

Each stack is a testimony to aspects of life: the startling beauty of nature in its nakedness; the power of turbulence to shape, smooth, and polish the rough and rugged; and the harmony present in simplicity.

 Lately, these rock altars have reminded me of the balance which has become the essential tempo of my life; for, I live with a chronic illness that drains me of energy in a minute, visits me with pain for hours, and can rob me of sleep for nights on end. I am one of 10 million Americans who suffer from fibromyalgia, a chronic pain disorder characterized by:
                                                    
                                                too little energy
                                                    on top of
                                       impaired memory and concentration
                                                     on top of
                                        not enough restorative sleep
                                                    on top of
                                   widespread musculoskeletal aches and pain
                                                    on top of
                                              soft tissue tenderness
                                                     on top of
                                     too many mental and physical demands

Each day, I must strike a workable balance between these asymmetrical elements of my physical world and the desires of my spirit for inner peace, love, joy, and acceptance.

My stone altars are a testament to what a delicate balance that is!



  
                              

Friday, January 16, 2009

The Inauguration Is Set to Rock

All week I have been seeking the official word on who will perform at the inaugural events next week. Today, a list of names was published including such luminaries as Stevie Wonder, James Taylor, Bruce Springsteen, Herbie Hancock, Sheryl Crow, Garth Brooks, Mary J. Blige, Usher, and Beyonce, amongst others. So now that I know to whom the Obamas and the rest of the nation will be be rockin', I want to know what songs will be droppin'.  But I have to tell you, this seems like a closely held secret.
Rumor has it Bruce Springsteen will be singing "This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land." If this is so, we all might benefit from reviewing the lyrics.  'Ya wanna know them? Here they go:
This Land is Your Land
 by Woody Guthrie, 1940
 Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

As I was walkin'  -  I saw a sign there
And that sign said - no tress passin'
But on the other side  .... it didn't say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!

Chorus

In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin' and some are wonderin'
If this land's still made for you and me.
 
 On Another Note
Don't get me wrong, I'm down with a good old American folk song, 
but, since I am a child of the '60s, I want to hear a song from the 
civil rights era. No, I am not hankering for "Lift Every Voice and Sing," or "We Shall Overcome."
Rather, I want to hear the song my parents played repeatedly for my brother and 
me after we integrated New Jersey private schools in 1965 and 
1967, respectively. 
Ya wanna see the lyrics? Here they go: 
 
To Be Young, Gifted and Black 
by Ms. Nina Simone, 1969 
 
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean

In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And that’s a fact!

You are young, gifted and black
We must begin to tell our young
There’s a world waiting for you
This is a quest that’s just begun

When you feel really low
Yeah, there’s a great truth you should know
When you’re young, gifted and black
Your soul’s intact

Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth

Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where it’s at.
 
 
What songs would you like to hear performed during the inaugural celebration? 
 
 
 
  

Friday, January 9, 2009

Take the Time to Write

Do you remember the last time you penned a personal letter? Not an email, not a text message, but an old fashioned, hand-written letter, bearing a first class stamp?

Do you remember the last time you waited to receive such a letter, one identified by the penmanship and the faint scent of a loved one?

We have replaced the anticipation of a personal missive with the instantaneous receipt of an email; the sweet excitement of a message dressed in the personal style of another's script for the efficiency of a message written in multiple abbreviations.

We have lost the art of letter writing, and with it, a crucial vehicle for communicating appreciation, celebration, creativity, and love.

I am contemplating this loss of expression because I just discovered that January 8-14 is Universal Letter Writing Week.

I expected that the cynical among us might say that this event is just another transparent attempt of greedy greeting card companies to separate us from our thinning funds. But, I am not talking about buy a card that will say it for us. I'm imploring us to slow down, get a cup of tea, take out a lovely sheet of paper, an ink pen that scrolls,  and put our feelings and thoughts into words, and our words onto papier.

I'm suggesting we reinstitute time for reflection, introspection, feeling, and expression by making space in our lives for the entire intimate experience of letter-writing. This week, honor your relationship with a loved one by writing a personal letter. These days a letter is a priceless gift.

Friday, January 2, 2009

The "R" word

January 1: I recite my New Year's resolutions.


February 1: I renege upon my New Year's resolutions.


March 1: I reconsider the New Year's resolutions.










April1: I reword the New Year's resolutions.


May 1: I ratchet up my energy to kick some raunchy resolution-ass.


June 1: I ridicule myself for not making steady progress on the resolutions.












July 1: I renounce myself.


August 1: I reject my resolutions.


September 1: I resolve to try again.















October 1: I resuscitate my New Year's resolutions.  

November 1: I renew my commitment to my New Year's resolutions.

December 1: I romanticize the efforts I made to accomplish my resolutions.


Wow, YaYa: That's really rucked up!