(Post originally written 7/20/14 – three days after leaving Training Camp)
Pain is relative, pain is personal, and pain is complicated. There’s never one set way to treat it or a set of steps to follow, which can make it unbelievably hard to deal with.
Around halfway through my freshman year of college it seemed like I was experiencing headaches 24/7. Then these headaches evolved into pain radiating throughout my entire face, to the point where it was impacting my singing, sleeping, and focusing on schoolwork. It got worse as time went on, eventually spreading through my neck and torso. One day I was standing on a stepstool reaching for something on the top shelf of my closet, I felt the bolt of pain shoot from the top of my head all the way down my right arm. I lost my balance and barely stepped down in time to keep myself from falling – I’ve never passed out or fainted in my life, but I thought that in that moment I just might.
So I started taking painkillers, then stronger painkillers, and then antacids when the stronger painkillers started to give me heartburn, but the temporary relief just wasn’t enough, on the rare occasions when it provided relief at all. Eventually I got fed up and went to my doctor, who sent me to get an MRI and then referred to me to a specialist.
What was my problem? Over the past year or so I had developed TMJ disorder, which at its simplest is a chronic jaw issue. I won’t go into all of the technical aspects because quite frankly I don’t remember them all, but it hurt, and the treatment plan went way beyond just taking a few advil tablets a day. I had to get fitted for a nighttime mouth guard, consistently remind myself to relax my face and jaw, and quit playing the saxophone, among a few other changes.
The pain medications were only treating the symptoms – I had to go to the actual root of my pain to effectively resolve it. Although I occasionally wake up tense and with a little bit of discomfort (as a singer, that’s an occupational hazard with something like this), it doesn’t interfered with my life anymore and rarely makes much of a difference.
So why am I telling you this boring story about my medical issues you never asked to hear about? My point: pain is HARD to treat effectively, because it’s easier to reach for a brief relief of symptoms than to actually take the time and ride out the pain while you search for its cause. And let me tell you, since coming back from Training Camp much earlier than I’d planned has resulted in a lot of pain, emotional, spiritual, and even physical, and the latter was quite a surprise.
I severely underestimated the physical pain that appears alongside emotional – I knew it happened the other way around, but this is different. This deep, resounding ache in my chest that feels like someone has a deathgrip on my heart and won’t let go. The sinking feeling in my stomach that makes we want to climb into bed and never leave. The fatigue that I have to push through just to sit up straight. The last time something emotional had manifested itself this way, it was because someone had died. And although this isn’t exactly the same thing, there is a loss to deal with, and a grief process to go through. I lost something I’d been looking forward to for months, I lost certainty in what I’ll be doing for the next year, and I lost my place within the family that I had just become part of. (Love you, I Squad).
The blessing and curse of this pain is that I know that I can’t self-medicate and expect to be better. This has rocked my world in ways that aren’t going to be fixed by a sincere conversation, a good cup of coffee, or an exhilarating workout. (Nothing wrong with those three things, but you see where I’m going with this).
Okay, that’s the curse but where’s the blessing? Here it is: I already know that these little forms of relief aren’t going to do squat. As much as I may want to distract myself for a little while, I know deep down I must run to my heavenly father in my time of confusion, transition, and of course, pain.
(I stopped writing here, and I feel I should leave the post in its original state rather than add onto it. There may be a follow-up/reflection in the future).
