Labour pain was like fire.
Tooth pain strikes all the way down to my toes.
Hitting a nerve during my infusions takes my breath away.
Aseptic meningitis is the most horrific thing I’ve ever felt.
But my most common pain is the ache of Myasthenia Gravis.
Most medical articles on the internet say that there is no pain caused by MG but ask any myasthenic and they’ll tell you otherwise.
That skeleton-in-jello/listing-barn feeling isn’t comfortable. I feel my bones floating in the goo and the joints are unsupported. I bend over and every piece of my spine clicks into place as I move. My muscles strain to hold it there so I don’t end up on the floor, a pile of odd angles.
The joint pain is sharp, the muscle ache is dull, but neither is that strong.
So it’s not severe but what gets me is the pervasiveness and persistence of the pain.
It is all of me, it is relentless, and it is exhausting.
I’m physically fragile. I move slowly and minimally. I wince with each bend and reach. I breathe deep to move through the pain.
I’m fragile emotionally. Days of this put me constantly on the verge of tears, except for the few moments when they spill over. I’m disappointed at not being able to bear this better, to push through it more smoothly, to overcome it.
Because it’s not so bad, objectively. I’ve had worse and worn it better.
But life is not experienced objectively. The constant affront wears me down.
So I switch from regular life mode to recovery mode. I stay in, cancel engagements, slow down.
My daughter and I read library books in bed rather than play games. I rely on my husband for even more of the household chores.
I lay on the floor and stretch. I take hot baths and read. I increase the frequency of my medication, setting alarms so I never forget. I add extra painkillers into my routine.
I make appointments for chiropractic treatment and massage.
I take care of this old house that is my home, and I know that the pain will pass. It always does.