"Are you still in pain?"

I love my family. Sometimes this journey is so close to me and I have become so expert at hiding the effort that I am surprised when they are unaware of how much this tumor and surgery have impacted my life.  A loved one recently asked me if I was still in pain? Does my body still physically hurt from the trauma it has gone through. The answer that immediately came to mind, the answer I wanted to give, "Every damn day."

Every day is an effort to get out of bed. Every night is an exercise of faith that I can get up the next morning. Because of the intensity of the pain medication available in most states, I am also at risk for developing dependence, so I try to keep things as low and even as possible. I avoid too much sugar, too much exertion. I eat foods known for reducing inflammation and work to use breathing techniques when it gets really bad. I use Epsom salt baths, hydrate frequently and practice simple techniques like yoga to keep my mind off of the pain and keep moving forward.

On the bad days, the days when nothing works, my mind is so overwhelmed that I fall uncontrollably asleep. I can't get up, my mind shuts down. I sleep and when I wake it's a journey to start moving all over again. But I do. I stretch, put a smile on and greet the day with everything I have. It's all I have. If I stop to think about it I am overwhelmed with the hurt and loss. So, I don't always let myself think about it. I focus on small things, simple things. I move my feet, stretch my arms and start my physical therapy.

I have neck stretches I start with, they hurt like hell. The relief when the muscles are more limber is wonderful. Then it's up and with slow moments get the rest of my body going. I review my plans for the day, I rewrite the day as needed and keep moving. I take breaks, reset and use my shut-down techniques through out the day. I don't think about the pain, I accept it, but it is simply my body telling me that it has gone through a traumatic event.

In quiet moments I am grateful and I sometimes grieve. I think of what could have been, but wasn't. I think of what is and how I will build my life around the accommodations I need to take now. I know I am here for a reason. Every day I find purpose in that. I don't let the pain win, but I listen to it's message.

"Slow down. Take it easy. Rushing won't get you there any faster. Look around. See what matters now."

In the quiet, accepting but not encompassed by the pain, we are gifted with the opportunity to both embrace and learn and also to see past. To look to the future with glory and health. There is another side. One day my body will be healed completely. Muscles repaired, limber, and healthy.  Brain fully functioning and engaged. Bone regrown. One day I won't hurt all the time. For now;

"Yeah, I still have pain. Thank you for asking. How are you?"