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 fourth and final installment is shared below.
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By Marissa Cardinal
When my rheumatologist first told me, matter-of-factly in an appointment for completely different issues, that I have fibromyalgia, I couldn’t believe it.
Fibromyalgia was not something that had ever crossed my mind as a possible diagnosis. I thought it would have been impossible for me to not notice any symptoms or signs in myself of a condition I apparently had. Then, she pointed out that the signs had been there for a long time; I had just learned to live with them. The brain fog I’d attributed to other conditions could easily be blamed in part on fibromyalgia, as could the worsening fatigue I’d blamed on those conditions, a busy schedule, and not being twenty anymore. Most indicative of all was the fact that the tense, tight, never-ending achiness and irreparable knots I’ve had in my muscles for as long as I can remember are not normal.
The symptoms and signs had been there and I’d missed them because after a while I’d forgotten that at its core pain is an abnormality meant to draw attention to a problem. Time and time again, I’m reminded of the fact that the most unusual thing about chronic pain is how accustomed to it you become and how easy it is to forget what it was like to not be in pain. Over time, it stopped feeling abnormal because I got used to pain just being my “normal.” It no longer draws my attention, because if I let that happen, I would never be able to focus on anything else.
This part of my life has become more and more striking as I’ve progressed through my first year of clinical rotations. I argue with my school-associated health insurance who, having expected to get a bunch of young, healthy, able bodied, future medical professionals, doesn’t see why so many appointments, tests, and medications should be considered routine. I constantly stretch out my aching muscles and joints or inconspicuously clutch at my painful abdomen as I go about my day, not able to help noticing I rarely ever see my peers needing to do the same.
I visit patients who have problems that have gone on too long because they ignored them in the hopes they’d go away, and before I can even wonder how one could miss such important concerns, I realize how many problems I could miss, or have already missed, because I’d already waved off the pain it caused as nothing new.
It sometimes feels like an odd experience to be working toward a career trying to ease pain when I’ve long since accepted my own as part of my life. That’s one of my favorite things about pursuing a career in medicine, though. I get the chance to experience and understand what many of my patients will go through, all the while working towards one day hopefully helping to make things better for us all.
