Written by Tom Norris
How do you describe the pain you live with?
I have lived with chronic back, groin, hips, and leg pain for almost 38 years now. What started out as a shooting pain every time I stepped up an incline has become almost full body pain (I can say “My right leg does not hurt much!”)
This pain usually starts as an ache at the base of spine where the radiation damage is worse (I received 30-days [about 4 and a half weeks) of radiation as partial treatment for testicular cancer in 1985] and where I had surgery (now dealing with ‘failed back surgery syndrome’.) During flare-ups, the pain area expands to cover my entire back (now have disc problems in every vertebra). The inferred pain expands to my abdomen, hips, and groin, affecting bone, nerves and muscles. Often, I have headaches and fatigue associated with this pain.
This pain can go from a dull ache to a full-body ache, usually without warning. I feel like I am wrestling with a flaming dragon with great claws; I experience burning and ripping pain even when I haven’t exerted myself.
One of the worst things about pain is the frequent flare-ups. Not only does the intensity of the pain become uncontrollable but I experience what I can only call “mind fog.” The pain seems to take on a life of its own, flowing around any tools I use to become a roar in my mind. This roar becomes my entire focus, drowning out all rational thought. As this intensifies, all I can do to control it is to go to bed and try to sleep. When I can finally sleep, after dedicated prayer and visualization, pain often saturates my dreams and I suffer horrendous nightmares.
I could also describe the pain as “fatiguing.” Even at the lowest intensity, I must fight bone-penetrating fatigue every day. I do not know if this fatigue is due solely from chronic pain or a combination of chronic pain, ageing and diabetes, but the fatigue has caused me to completely adjust my self-concept to the point where I know I must recover from every activity. Even showering wears me out and I must lie down to be able to do anything afterwards.
Recently, due to Marianne’s broken arm, I had to take her on the “big shop.” We went shopping for five hours. By the time I got home, I was crashing due to the physical and mental aspects of the pain. I couldn’t think enough to be able to use any of my tools for coping. I can only describe what I was feeling as more overpowering than standing next to a running aircraft engine. I felt both noise and physical buffeting!
If I did not have my faith, the love of my wife, and all the tools I have acquired over the years, I do not think I could deal with the daily trials I experience with this pain.