The Price We Pay to Stay in the Game
“Pain teaches its own lessons. If I've lost track of time and forgotten to take my next pain pill, when I cough I can feel the difference in the pain if the last pill has worn off. I know something's different.”
It's sort of amazing how fast we all adapt to new lifestyles, how quickly we learn new habits. When I used to go to bad places as a journalist, I'd always count the number of stairs in the hotel stairwell, so I could go down fast in the dark if we lost power. I'd move my bed away from the window. "If there are soldiers on the street, where are their trigger fingers?" I'd ask myself. "Inside the trigger guard, or outside? Ready to shoot, or a little more relaxed?"
Those same habits have come with me into cancer world. On chemo, you learn the warning signs when a fit of nausea is about to come on. Spearmint gum would end those for me, so I had it stashed everywhere: in my car, in my jackets, in my office. That way it was always handy. When I was feeling the worst of the side effects, I'd make sure I knew the best routes to walk wherever I was going: level, no hills. My wind power just wasn't up to it. And I learned to recognize those times when I just couldn't fight it, when it was time to sleep.
I've learned a whole new range of habits in this last week's bout with the collapsed lung. First off, you cannot suppress a cough forever. At some point, even though you know it's going to be excruciating, you're going to have to cough. So go ahead and get it over with. I was on oxygen most of the time I was in the hospital. If I went to blow my nose, I had to remember to take out the oxygen hose. It's funny, even after being at home a couple of days, I find myself checking that before I reach for a tissue.
Pain teaches its own lessons. If I've lost track of time and forgotten to take my next pain pill, when I cough I can feel the difference in the pain if the last pill has worn off. I know something's different. I've learned that even when you find a comfortable position, it will only be comfortable for so long, and then it will become painful, too. The trick is to keep moving. I learned that I was an idiot, as many of you pointed out, and rightly so, for not going into the hospital immediately. My pain pump allowed a dose every 10 minutes. I pretty much learned to time that out in my head, and also to keep an eye on the clock, so I could get my dose every 10 minutes on the dot and not lose any time.
But as with all the new things we've had to learn, the ways we've had to adjust our lives, more than anything I relearned the most important lesson of all: The pain will pass. And almost all the time, it's worth it. It's the price we pay to stay in the game.
6:09 PM ET | 02-27-2007 | permalink
