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living with chronic pain – someone else’s: part 2
My husband walks in the door from work. I’m in the kitchen chopping vegetables. He kisses me and asks how I am. I shrug and then place the tips of my three middle fingers over my right eye – the sign that I have a migraine. “Oh no,” he says. “I’m so sorry.” And he does look sorry though I wonder how he can keep feeling sorry when it’s such a frequent occurrence. But even more than that, I wonder, why do I do this to him? Why do I need to tell him?It’s easier for me to answer why I shouldn’t tell him than why I do. I shouldn’t tell him because I assume that the hardest part of living with someone with a painful medical condition is the feeling of helplessness. I know how I feel when he’s suffering from any malady, large or small, especially if there’s nothing I can do to make him better. When you love someone, you want to alleviate his or her suffering and when you can’t, it’s terrible. And when you can’t alleviate the suffering, over and over and over again, it must be terrible over and over and over again. So, I repeat, why do I tell him? If I love him, why don’t I spare him this ordeal?
I’m quite sure that my motivation is not to render the pain less intense. Telling him doesn’t render it less intense. I can’t deny that I want his sympathy but more than his sympathy, I want his respect. For what? For being resilient enough to soldier on in spite of the pain. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I want credit. If I don’t tell him I have a migraine, how will he know that I’m being a good sport? How will he know that sometimes I’m even a tiny bit brave?
But is it fair? It must be so deflating for him to come home from work and instead of being greeted by a kiss and a spirited account of my day, he’s greeted by a kiss and three fingers over my right eye. Or maybe it isn’t so terrible for him. Maybe when he says, “I’m so sorry” he is sorry but he isn’t devastated, the way I would be. In fact, maybe that’s the secret to the success of our marriage is that he isn’t thrown. He may feel helpless. He is thrown when I have a 10 on my personal migraine Richter scale but I can’t soldier-on with a 10 and I don’t need to tell him. The symptoms do that for me. But 10’s are rare. More common are 7’s. With a 7, I can manage. I can keep chopping. Get credit. Maybe a gold star. But only if he knows.
Hi Nikki,
You know me as “Laurie Farthing,” fellow migraine sufferer and friend of Anne and Elizabeth. Elizabeth recently told me about your blog. I loved reading your wonderful descriptions of the desert and looking at your fabulous photos. I was migraine free for about seven years until I contracted Lyme four years ago and they returned. They are not, however, of the “killer” variety I had for some thirty years. In fact, if I lie down and put an ice pack on my head, I can usually recover. I am so sorry to know that you are still suffering. I was especially touched by your remakrks about tring to spare your husband from your chronic pain. That has been an ongoing issue for us.
I was married ten years ago this month to a wonderful man, Clay Howard.
We lost our house in San Rafael five years ago, moved to Cotati for a short time (big mistake), and have been very happy renting a small house in Fairfax for the past three years. The cost of my Lyme treatment is astronomical, which has forced us to find housing in a senior building,”Rotary Manor” at Fifth and H in San Rafael. We move on the 22nd.
Clay is eighty and in excellent health. My disease is chronic. I have frequent courses of IV antibiotics. Insurance covers very little of the cost of treatment. I get so tired of being an invalid and see the strain that it imposes on Clay. You are probably aware of the political controversy surrounding this illness. Connnecticut passed a bill making insurance companies cover the costs and there is a bill for the same before the NY Legislature. Fingers crossed that “progressive” California will not be far behind, although there is far more awareness of Lyme on the East Coast.
I’m looking forward to enjoying more of your’s and Catie’s comments.
But it would be so unfair not to tell him. He’d be mad if you didn’t. Sort of like having gourmet dinners delivered every day and not telling the husband you didn’t make them. Dishonest. So I’m sure any credit you get for soldiering on is Extra Credit, not your real motivation.