Tag Archives for death

Can Pain Kill You?

Can pain kill you? According to the responses from my Google search, yes, it can.

Can Pain Kill You

Some days, like today, I feel like my pain might kill me. I know that might sound over-the-top, but if you’ve never experienced debilitating pain, there’s no other way for me to describe it. When I used to get frequent blinding migraines or my monthly menstrual cramps made it impossible for me to get out of bed, I always took comfort in knowing that those pains would eventually end. Now, with this pain, there is never any relief. There is no day on the calendar or time frame after taking medication that I can look forward to because they mean there will be an end to the pain threatening to split my skull open or implode my reproductive organs. The pain radiating from deep in the right side of my pelvis, out towards both hips, down both legs, and up my back has no schedule or half-life to which I can look forward in anticipation of relief.

Some days, like today, the pain is so unbearable; walking, standing, or even sitting still, hurt so badly I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know what to do with this anxious energy racing through me that probably adds to the frenetic activity within my nervous system and amps up the pain. I don’t know how to make myself comfortable when I sit because no surface can ever be soft enough against my aching tender skin. While just the thought of trying to rub and massage the hurting parts of myself makes me cringe and nauseated to the point of wanting to vomit.

If the pain, like the type of pain I feel, can kill a person by pushing them to suicide, I can understand why. I’m not, by any means, contemplating ending my life, but I’m uncertain about how long – it’s been three years already – I can live like this not knowing when or if I will get any pain relief. How long can I continue to accept being characterized as a “mystery patient” by my doctors who can’t pinpoint why my body is still reacting, to a growth that is no longer in my pelvis, before it becomes too much to bear? A psychological episode most likely will not be what brings my life to its end. It could very well be the stress of constant pain on my body that makes my blood pressure boil over, causing a stroke, or my blood could become poisoned by the copious amount of opioid pain medications I take, leading my organs to start to fail. Que sera sera…

I know none of this is helpful or optimistic, but this is where my pain sends my mind on days like today when I hurt so badly I don’t know what to do with myself.

 

I Understand Wanting To Die

During my first appointment at the pain clinic, the pain specialist completed a very detailed intake questionnaire with me. Some of the questions on the questionnaire were designed to gauge a patient’s mood. One specific question asked if I had thoughts about taking my life. I said no, but jokingly added that I had enough pain medication on hand if I ever considered it. The pain specialist stopped writing and looked me straight in the eyes with deep concern. Her concern surprised me. I had to assure her that it was only a joke and that I would never make such a joke again, and more importantly never try to take my life.

I thought about that meeting this morning because in addition to this blog I recently started a gratitude journal, and this morning I wrote about being grateful that I was never successful at my past attempts to take my life. That’s right, I said attempts; meaning more than one. I tried to kill myself more than once in my youth because of unspeakable things I had lived through that I felt I couldn’t and shouldn’t have survived. Unknowingly, I was also suffering from undiagnosed depression – or more accurately PTSD – which caused me a tremendous amount of psychological and emotional pain and made me believe that death was my only cure. At the bottom of some very dark valleys, I decided it would be better if I never climbed out. So, I swallowed lots of pills but I didn’t die.

I wrote in my gratitude journal that I am grateful I didn’t die for many reasons. Because I didn’t die I had the opportunity to obtain higher education – in academic settings, in the workforce, and just by being part of the world. I have traveled to many places (there are many more I want to see), and in each of those places I met wonderful people. I have seen many beautiful sunrises and sunsets, and as cliché as that sounds there is nothing more incredible than watching the sun set the sky on fire with colours you never imagined before. I have swum in the salt water of oceans and seas. I have skied down mountains. I have learned foreign languages – sometimes just small bits so I could communicate with strangers – and I have shared delicious food with some of those strangers who later became friends. But I am most grateful I didn’t die because I have received many blessings, most of which have come to me from unexpected places at times when I was ready to give up.

Although I am grateful, I understand wanting to die because I understand feeling hopeless, defeated and unloved. Thankfully my illness has not reduced me to feeling any of those things. Maybe it’s because of the antidepressants I’m taking. Early on when it became clear that getting me better would be difficult and could take a long time, my doctors started me on a low dose of antidepressants. Antidepressants are commonly prescribed for chronic pain patients to manage mood. When I started taking them I was concerned that they would dull my mind, but considering the amount of pain medication I’m taking any dulling a mild antidepressant could do is negligible. I also believe those feelings are being kept at bay because I have to be my own advocate, which means I have to be alert to understand and research information about my condition, and participate in all decision-making about my health and daily life.

Nonetheless, since my illness arrived I have not wanted to die. Even though the unbearable pain sometimes makes me feel like I might die. Sometimes I feel like I might die as I lay alone in the dimmed lighting in my apartment in the middle of the night. I have felt like I might die when just trying to get out of bed sends lightning hot pain through my body. I feel like I might die when I stand, weakly, at my kitchen sink to wash my dishes; and I felt like I might die when I fell in the shower a few months ago because my strength gave out while I was standing in the shower washing my pain riddled body. And, I have felt afraid that I might die while riding in the back of a taxi on the way to the hospital emergency room to get help to reduce my pain when my pain medications failed to manage it.

Still, as much as I understand wanting to die and feeling that I might die, today I am grateful that I did not.

 

Josh Groban – You Are Loved (Don’t Give Up)