I used to be a pain in the neck. Let me explain.
My neck is chock full of hardware. Neurosurgery combined with two cervical fusions have left me with 2 titanium rods, 15 screws, bone grafts, some wire and a metal cage supporting my head. It hurts. All the time. Sitting on an airplane, being bumped around on a long car ride, or even looking down for too long can provoke mind-numbing agony.
Even so, I enjoy an absolutely extraordinary quality of life. Mastering "Mood Over Pain" has been the lynchpin of my recovery. Specifically, I'd like to share 5 tactics that have worked for me, in the hopes that others living with chronic pain might find a nugget or two they can use in their own journey toward a full and happy life.
- Understand the Journey: Most of all, understand that it IS a journey. Things will get better. Life will seem normal again. Dealing with long-term physical therapy and rehab can wear you down and have you believing that this is what your new life looks like. Always remember that this is a stage - as painful, long and tough as it may be. Someday it will settle into a new "normal" that you can not only live with, but thrive within.
- Consider the Alternative: As difficult as these surgeries can be, imagine for a moment what an incredible gift they are. Consider the alternative: Living with (or dying from) your condition because you didn't have access to a good surgeon. The level of healthcare we enjoy in this country today is unprecedented in human history, and you and I were just lucky enough to be born at the right time and in the right place to benefit from it. How incredibly blessed we are!
- Re-Condition Your Thinking: Every time you hear yourself think, "I used to be able to (fill-in-the-blank), now I can't even (fill-in-the-blank)", STOP. Immediately replace the thought with "I can still . . ." and fill in the blank with something else, no matter how small. "I can still read stories to my grandchildren" leaves you in an entirely different frame of mind than, "I'll never be able to water ski again."
I was amazed when I started re-focusing on all the things I still could do; not only at how long the list was, but at how rich it was. It included those things that have always mattered the most, even pre-injury. Things like time with my family, visiting friends, and doing fulfilling work where I can contribute and be challenged. Conversely, there was not one thing on my Can't Anymore list that was truly going to matter on my last day. This epiphany gave me a deep sense of comfort which enabled me to let go of the Can't Anymores with far less angst. I was still 100% able to be there for my family and friends, to support and love them and to extend kindness to others, even to enjoy my work and continue to grow and learn. In the end, aren't those the things that really matter anyway? - Prioritize: What does your family need from you - not according to you, but according to them?
I always thought that being Superwoman meant making dinner every night after working a 12-hr day, keeping the house clean and baking homemade birthday cakes for loved ones ("Store bought?? Perish the thought!"). My condition left me feeling like a useless failure because I could no longer "take care of my family" in the same manner I had before.
After countless tearful rants about how "I can't do ANYTHING anymore without ending up flat on my back in pain", my wise husband sat me down, looked me in the eye and said, "Honey, I didn't marry you to cook my dinner or clean the house. I married you because you're my best friend. All I really need is for you to be my friend." The irony is that my stubborn determination to push through the pain in order to "provide" was actually undermining my ability to provide the one thing my husband really needed from me.
It's taken a long time, but I've finally come to the realization that being my best, happy self is a serious responsibility and that I owe it to my marriage to do whatever I have to do to protect and maintain that state. If that means not cleaning the bathroom on a given day, so be it.
Another way to think of it is this: You have a finite number of comfortable, productive moments in a day (I call it "neck-quity"!) Once it's all used up you're unable to move around the way you'd like and get things done. So being very intentional about how you spend your pain equity will help you make the most of every day. - It's Not All About You: Severe and sustained pain is horrible. It's all-consuming. It pinches us where it hurts - right in the heart - and leaves us feeling dark and small and alone. When you're in that state it's nearly impossible to think of others. However, if you're able to force yourself out of your "pain place" the effect can be downright transformational. Doing for others opens your heart and lets in the light. It pushes away feelings of isolation and despair, even if just for a little while. And remember, Doing for Others doesn't need to be anything earth-shaking. Think of a friend who's going through a hard time and pick up the phone to say hello and offer an ear. Tell a lady at the grocery store how pretty her coat is. Any little thing that brightens someone's day or puts a smile on their face will usually do the trick. I've developed a keen radar over the last few years for my own self-absorption. I know when it's bubbled up too far and needs to be dealt with. That's when I turn my thoughts to Doing for Others and look for opportunities to be there for someone else.
A variation on the theme is this: whether you're at work, the mall, the grocery store or the ballpark - take a look around. Every last person you see is dealing with something, guaranteed. A lost loved one, aging parents, sick children, job loss, bankruptcy, illness, substance abuse - the list goes on forever. Being acutely aware of this is humbling, and I find that it helps me avoid getting too absorbed in my own discomfort.
Practicing these 5 basic rules helps me remember that I cannot allow my pain to define me. I am NOT a pain in the neck. I HAVE a pain in the neck, and you know what? I can live with that.