No pain, no gain.

Today, I would not like to talk about something.  Seriously.  I wish I could not talk about a specific subject, but I’m afraid I’m going to talk about it anyway.  And that subject is …

Pain.

Yeah, I know: It doesn’t do any good to talk about pain.  It does not relieve the pain, and information about pain is not necessarily welcomed by the receiver.  Knowing someone else is in pain causes pain. A certain amount, anyway.  So, in a way, it’s impolite to talk about it.  If you have any empathy for others, you’ll think twice about disclosing anything about your pain. 

Still, pain is persistent in our consciousness, and it is often a function of age.  The older you get, the more pain, both in cumulative terms and in the proliferation of overall pain.  It’s that proliferation that gets to me in my 68^th year.  I’ve developed an image of pain that I think serves me and others well. That image is …

The Carousel of Pain.

That’s what pain is to me. It’s a ride at the fair.  It’s a contraption that goes around and around and that has many objects or elements used for conveying the rider around in circles. By objects, I mean things like fake horses and carriages and maybe a zebra over here and a hippopotamus over there. You’ve probably been on a carousel at some point in your life, and it seems equivalent to my experience of pain.

If you’re older, I think you know what I’m talking about. 

I’ll wake up one morning … and I’ll learn that my ankle hurt so bad, I can’t walk on it.  This is shocking because I didn’t do anything to injure myself!  The pain is undeniable, and I mentally calculate the down time for a sprained ankle.  Only to discover … that the pain was temporary, lasting as little as 24 hours. The next morning, I woke up and the ankle is fine—but now I’ve got a sore elbow!  That keeps happening in succession, so to me, it’s like riding the carousel and rather than wooden horses there are various infirmities that can claim your awareness.  Every day is like getting up and getting on the carousel and riding it around. 

Only it’s not a fun experience, like state fair carousels.  The objects to ride are distressing and debilitating.  And … innumerable.  I’ll get intense feelings of pain in the tips of my fingers, like a needle being jabbed into the digit.  I guess they call that neuropathy. Another of the objects to ride on the Carousel of Pain.

And I’m not including the psychosomatic levels of pain I’m plagued with. For real, if someone starts talking about a pain they have? I start feeling that same pain.  If you tell me a story about a cousin who got a brain tumor?  I get a headache.  It’s unnatural and absurd, but it happens to me.  I can’t read articles about physical pain, can’t watch visual media describing painful situations, or I spin off into a weird physical experience that defies explanation. 

There’s also the chronic pain that is part of the calculus. The hips that have been replaced.  The shoulder that’s bone on bone.  I personally I’m lined up for three surgical procedures to close out the year.  That scares me.  I worry the surgeries will only exaggerate feelings of being old, perhaps even slow me down, more than I’ve already slowed.  I don’t like to think about being feeble.  I don’t like being stuck on the Carousel. 

But, as they say … it is what it is.

So, if you’re experiencing your own Carousel, I say turn up the music.  Music transports you to another dimension, maybe not a complete escape from pain, but enough to provide that tiny shot of relief that enables us to keep going.  Music is soothing, so use it. Abuse it!  You can’t overdose on music, so consume it voraciously.

I have one other image regarding pain that I use to ease the intensity of the feeling. And that is poster of a guy with a beer gut, sitting on a beer keg, and the words, “No pain, no pain” emblazoned on it.

Ultimately, I know pain serves a vital function in the maintenance of this vehicle we ride around in. I just wish the phantom pains weren't so prolific, the real stuff is hard enough to contend with. What there is to gain from pain is absolutely relative.

That’s all I’m not talking about today.