The Pain Chronicles is a collection of short stories and essays about living with chronic pain written by medical students. This series will include four stories published over the month of September, in recognition of Pain Awareness Month. Our second installment is shared below.
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Untitled
By Rowley
From outside your ED room, I can see you are in pain. Although I am there to get a history from you, I take the time to turn off the lights, close the blinds, and grab warm blankets so you can get comfortable.
I pull up a stool next to you, and whisper “So what brings you in today?”. You tell me that you have had a migraine for many days, and nothing is working. You desperately need the pain to stop. I start asking my usual questions, but I can see you are overcome with emotion. “How can I be a good mother to my child if I am so disabled by pain?”.
So I pause. “I know it can be hard, but try to give yourself some grace. Living with chronic migraine is so incredibly hard and debilitating and I know you are doing the best you can.” At this point you start profusely crying. I hold this moment with you.
Then I say the words that changed my life, and that I too needed to hear in that moment. “I know it can feel hopeless sometimes, and I know it can be frustrating every time a medication fails you. But hang onto hope, as I know that with trial and error there is a medication combo out there that will help you live a full life”.
Unbeknownst to her, I was in her exact shoes two months prior. I had the worst status migrainosus in years. Naturally, the pain became too much on my birthday of all days. So, rather than celebrating I spent my birthday receiving IV medications in a desperate attempt to get the pain to lighten.
But in my experience, unprompted, no one turned off the lights, closed the door, or grabbed me warm blankets. No one sat with me with my pain. I felt so alone, frustrated, angry, tired. Over the pain. I too started asking questions. “How can I be a good physician if on some days I am so disabled by pain?”. But then I played those words back in my mind again. Hope. I must keep hope.
Because I am needed. I can see it from her eyes. How her pain turned into relief solely from our conversation, even if it was just for a few seconds. How she no longer felt alone in that moment.
