What a Pain in the Neck!

One of the reasons I've been writing less these days is that school has started, so much of my computer time is spent writing class lectures or grading student papers.

The other issue has been some struggles I've been having with my neck and back. That image you see with this is not just some random picture off the internet. It's my actual X-ray.

I've been to three chiropractors, a physical therapist and an acupuncture doctor. I'm still having a fair amount of pain. Apparently I have a bit of arthritis in my neck. Beyond that I have too many years of bad posture and mega hours sitting in front of my computer working against me. Put that all together and I've got one big pain in the neck (and back). Sigh.

So I've adjusted my work stations at both my home office and at my full time job...raised the monitors to my computers several inches higher and changed the way I will sit. I'm doing some specific exercises that help increase my flexibility and strengthen my back muscles. Also I'm trying diligently to get more regular sleep.

Hopefully in the coming weeks I will be able to get a handle on the problem. But even though I do expect to see improvement, the reality is that as I age I can probably expect more aches and pains. How I choose to cope with that will be up to me.

I'm trying to be mindful about focusing more on what's RIGHT than what's uncomfortable. I truly do have a whole lot of blessing going on all around me. Still, it's just hard to be positive when you are hurting.

This is definitely giving me more compassion for those who must deal with ongoing chronic pain and/or disability. I think of my sweet husband's grandmother whose whole adult life was spent twisted and crippled with agonizing rheumatoid arthritis. All the family who knew her say she was never one to complain. Her children sometimes heard her crying in her bedroom when she was really suffering. But she never got cranky with them, no matter how badly she felt.

I want to always remember her example. I may not feel great in body right now. But I can choose to focus on all that gives me joy instead of on what hurts.

Pondering Pain

Recently I have been giving some thought to how I relate to suffering.
(My own, that of those close to me, the hurting of people on my social periphery and that of total strangers.)

I have a very, VERY dear friend who is struggling with breast cancer. I have a cousin my age who is facing a mastectomy next week for the same thing. I have a sister-in-law whose sister has ovarian cancer. And tonight at a church function I learned of a fellow parishioner who has cancer.

The big C seems to be where ever I turn.

But cancer certainly is not the only culprit. One of my uncles died a few days ago, leaving my aunt bereft and grieving. My sister's MS is escalating in new ways that are interfering with her life.

My brother's job is highly stressful, at times completely overwhelming him.
My son's lack of a job is overwhelming him.

I know people whose relationships are fractured and furious.

I know people who are feeling deep angst over other things.

There's the crisis in the economy, the casualties in the war.
There's pain of body, pain of mind, deep sorrow of the spirit. Every way I turn it seems there is struggle and hurting.



How much of that do I let seep down into my own heart?

Back when I was working in the mental health world I attended a training about "the helper's pit." The idea was for us to learn to maintain professional boundaries, recognizing that if I jump down in a pit with someone who is hurting then my increase in empathy is directly related to my reduced ability to offer any kind of meaningful support, because now I'm in the very same boat.

In a work setting that made a certain amount of sense. But what about when the one hurting in my neighbor, my sister, my friend? Does the same rule apply?

Whether in working with troubled clients or living in troubled times, how much of other people's pain do I own and how much distance from it do I retreat to? My capacity for compassion matters a lot. But if I completely take in every nuance of sorrow that surrounds me I am not able to function. My heart tumbles and turns with sorrow, dismay, disappointment, outrage. At some point I need to be able to back away from it. Yet how do I know how far to back away?

How much is enough? How do I find that balance? How do I find INTERNAL PEACE when being immersed in this very unpeaceful world??

I do not know the answers. I do not know what criteria to lean on.

All I know is that there is much hurting in this fallen mortal world.
And it is difficult indeed to watch people I love go through such struggle.
I pray long and hard for each of these people, and then for the countless others who are also suffering outside the reach of my understanding.

and I keep asking myself .... When and why does it matter to me what happens to another? What if I don't know them personally, but have SOME sort of connection (same faith, same town, same whatever...) that seems give us common ground.
Or does any of that matter? Can I allow the sorrow of others clear across the world who have nothing in common with me other than our shared humanity be significant?

How much does a total stranger's hurting touch my spirit?
How much does YOUR pain become mine?

Where is the middle ground between too much feeling caring and callousness?

And then I spin it and wonder... how much do I expect another to care about my hurt feelings, my worry, my grief?

What connects us? What stands us apart?

I admit there have been times when I've heard of some terrible thing that happened to someone else I've been grateful and relieved that it had not been anyone in my family that had to endure such a harmful blow. I was not happy the other person had to suffer. But if suffering had to come, I was just glad it was not me or mine.

I know from past experience that some of the painful things that have come my way have taught me a lot, given me new strength, fostered a deeper understanding of others. Still, I do not welcome adversity or thank it for the teaching it will bring. I cringe from it. I sometimes resent it. I flee from it if I can. When forced to stay and face it I grit my teeth and endure it as best I can. But I do not view hard times as blessings that help me grow, even though I know they are.

As I get older I recognize that pain is going to come more and more often...
pain in the form of losing people I love
pain in the form of sickness and physical limitation
pain in the form of heartache for others who are suffering
pain in all its many faces will be my companion in abundance
of that I am sure.

How I choose to respond to those opportunities will in many ways define me...

Will I hide my head in the sand or try to bolt the door when hurting comes calling? Or will I open the door and let it in with equanimity?
And what will that mean for me?

Badger Holes & Mortality

My beloved injured his ankle the other day stepping in a badger hole. His work involves agricultural field research for OSU. He was out working in one of their experiment plots preparing the ground to plant mustard seed. He had noticed some badger holes so he got a shovel and proceeded to fill them in. As he went to tamp down the loose dirt over one of the holes the ground gave way to the cavity below, causing my man's ankle to twist at a nasty angle. It's not broken, but it is severely sprained. Doctor says for him to stay off of it, keep putting ice on and to not plan on any sustained walking for at least three weeks.

We had big plans for hiking the hills around Wenatchee this weekend. We were also going to go out in search of some new geocache. There were all sorts of things we intended to do since I've got the day off Friday and could make a long weekend of it. Now he won't be able to do any of those things.

We are both disappointed. Beyond that, it has made me think a bit more about our mortality and the impact the 12 year age difference between us is likely to have on us over the course of the next decade.

Up until now it has been no big deal that he was further down the road of life's season's than I. But at age 62 already I have noticed he is beginning to slow down a bit and relish his "old man's naps" whenever he can. Watching him hobble around the house with a cane as a result of this injury served as a reminder that it may not be too many more years before health issues or limited mobility could become routine challenges. How I choose to respond if/when that happens remains to be seen.

As we've talked about what we would do this weekend it became clear I really only have three options:

1) don't do the things we had planned at all since he can't do them with me.
2) do those things by myself.
3) do them with someone else.

I'm not thrilled by any of those options. This man I am married to is my best pal, my hero, my cherished companion. Even the most mundane of activities is all the more fun when he's along for the ride. But the fact remains that he CAN'T go out hiking on this trip and won't be for some time. So I'm not entirely sure what I'll do. I'll take it as it comes and make the most of it however it plays out.

The main reason for the trip is to visit our dear friends, Chuck & Pat, who we have not seen in a couple years. They had been serving a mission in the Atalanta, GA temple and then after returning from that spent this past winter in Arizona. Finally they are home so we are very anxious to go spend some time catching up with them. I'm really looking forward to just sitting and visiting. Also there are several other friends we want to go by to see. As long as Larry is careful getting in and out of the car he certainly can still enjoy visiting.

Still, watching him hobble around with his poor gimp foot has made me pause and wonder--how will I handle it if somewhere down the road he becomes ill or infirm, dealing with pain, possible incontinence or loss of cognitive ability?

When I said "in sickness or in health" I very much meant it. I am committed to this marriage for the long haul no matter what challenges may confront us. But making those promises in my 20's when we both felt young and invincible just didn't bear the weight that facing up to them at 50 and 62 does.

Husbands of two of my long time friends have had strokes in the last year. Others I know are dealing with severe diabetes, heart failure, emphysema. As I get older more and more of my contemporaries are showing me the range of what it is like to lose hold of youth. This growing old stuff isn't for sissies.

Whether it is me or him who may face significant health challenges, chances are one or the other of us will. I hope with all my heart that I'll be able to face whatever challenges that come up for us with grace, compassion and humor.

For now I'll just bring him more ice, re-wrap his ace bandage and be grateful this particular injury was not too serious. But it has served as a bit of a wake up call for rapids down river yet to come. I hope I'm up for them.

For Your Own Good...

I've been thinking some about my values around seeking comfort and tolerating / enduring pain.

I believe there are times that it can be a positive, healthy thing to simply be present to hurting and learn from it rather that run for medication or distraction to not have to experience that difficulty. But there are also PLENTY of times when being tough and enduring pain serves no useful purpose. The trick is to figure out which is which.

In my SOC class I have a lecture I give about the functionalist view of the "sick role" where in people may be excused from ordinary expectations if they are grieving, ill, or facing some major challenge. However there are some very particular rules that each culture dictates as to how long we are willing to be sympathetic of someone going through a rough time and what we expect them to do on their own behalf to get better.

In the class we talk some about the social nuances of how we respond to someone with a chronic condition that will not get better, why we react differently to people with physical conditions than we do to those with emotional/psychological ills, and how the force of profit and commercialism in western medicine has trained us to seek to avoid pain of any kind.

I've thought some about what things make me whine or seek comfort from others and what things I stoically endure in silence. I've explored some issues around what sorts of resources I'm willing to spend on self care and what seems silly, excessive and self indulgent. I'm still coming together with some thoughts on this stuff that I may write more about later. But then I came across this:

"Theravada Buddhism is often portrayed as a self- centered doctrine, the Buddha teaches that there are two types of good that we have to take into account. One's own good and the good of others. He says that there are four types of people:

1. There is the person concerned with neither his own good nor the good of others.
2. The person concerned with the good of others but not his own good.
3. The person who is concerned with his own good but not with the good of others.
4. The person who is concerned with both his own good and the good of others.

The Buddha pronounces the fourth person to be the most excellent. But he goes further to say that concern for the welfare of others has to be tempered by the recognition that we can only benefit others truly to the extent that we have benefited ourselves. A person who is himself stuck in the mud cannot help others to get out of the mud. If he tries to do so, both will sink down. Hence in order to assist others effectively we first have to establish ourselves on firm ground; that is, we have to first develop in ourselves pure spiritual qualities." (Foundations of Buddhist Social Thought.)

Maybe it was Buddha who wrote the script for airline attendants about why we should put on our own mask in the event that the cabin depressurizes before helping our traveling companion?

Where does it make sense to make personal sacrifice to help my family? My neighbors? The world? Where does it make sense to look out for number one?