I frequently meet people who want to share their pain with a
stranger. But the problem is, when they
see me, they don’t realize that they’ve chosen the wrong person to share pain
with if they're looking for sympathy from a stranger. It's not that I don't sympathize with people and pain they're going through, it's just that I kind of feel like they're repeating the story of my life. I've heard that one before, yep.
After my foot
surgery, I was walking in a store with my boot on, and I was looking at
something on the shelves. A lady came by
and saw my boot and just started gushing about how she sympathized with me
because she had a knee replacement (probably years ago), and she knows just how
I feel… I have learned to keep my mouth
shut at moments like these when I really want to say, “Oh, you’ve had a knee
replacement? Well, honey, I’ve had TWO
knee replacements! A week apart from
each other! And I’ve had BOTH hips
replaced!! One of them 4 months after my
knee replacements!! And this latest
surgery was a joint fusion in my foot that has been an extremely painful
recovery for me. And!... I will need to
have both shoulders replaced someday, and my knees replaced AGAIN, someday, and
more fusions in my feet and hands. Wait,
what were we talking about? Oh yes, tell
me again how you know exactly how I feel?”
 |
| Photo credit: Petite Magique |
I don't want to be "that person" that always one ups the "two wisdom tooth tale." But sometimes I just want to let everyone know exactly what I think of their "tale."
I recently read a book called David and Goliath by Malcom Gladwell. It’s a collection of true
people, events, and studies that have been conducted that show how underdogs
and misfits have overcome adversities to defeat “giants”.
There’s one story in particular that really struck me as
fascinating. It follows a man named Emil
“Jay” Freireich, a doctor who helped develop successful modern chemotherapy
treatments by using unconventional and (then) dangerous practices and testing
them on children undergoing treatments for leukemia. He grew up in a rough immigrant home. His father passed away when he was very young
and after 7 years of being raised by an Irish nanny whom he loved, his mother
remarried, left work in a sweatshop, and returned home to “raise” her two
children and one stepchild. His mother
was very distant, though. He doesn’t
recall any affection given to him as a child.
He spent a lot of time on the streets.
Back then, physicians were typically from upper-middle-class
backgrounds. They were gentle people who
were able to sympathize with patients.
Freireich came from a very poor background, and he was a large man who
spoke loudly and had a bad temper.
Defying many odds, he became a physician and was assigned to the children’s
leukemia ward at the National Cancer Institute in 1955. It was a terrible place filled with children
with a terrible disease that many of them bled to death from. The doctors were supposed to cure the
children, but their time was spent cleaning up and trying to prevent the kids
from bleeding to death.
Dr Freireich made several discoveries and advancements
trying to find cures for leukemia, including blood transfusions using silicone
needles and plastic bags instead of metal needles and glass bottles, which gave
the kids blood platelets to help stop bleeding.
This was a groundbreaking discovery, because now the doctors could focus
on curing the disease, instead of trying to stop the bleeding. He also found that combining several
medications together, instead of using them one at a time, worked better and
was able to treat and heal the patients.
In the 1960’s, this type of treatment was considered extremely dangerous
and irresponsible. At the time, they
would give dangerous medication (methotrexate, 6-MP, and prednisode) one at a
time and in small doses. Freireich
thought that combining the medications and giving them in higher doses would
kill the cancer cells more effectively.
Other people thought that the drug combinations would kill the
patients. Freireich figured why not try
something different to see if we can get different results, and if they die,
they were going to die anyway, so it’s really not his problem. Heartless?
Yes, but there’s more…
After the doctors could focus on treating the leukemia, Freireich
was seeing a problem of children being “cured” of leukemia under his care
become sick again because the chemotherapy treatments hadn’t killed every
single cancer cell. He realized that he
couldn’t completely tell if a patient was cancer free by looking at blood
cells, he had to look at bone marrow.
The way he extracted bone marrow was to grab the child’s leg and stick
an 18-gauge needle right into the shinbone with nurses and parents holding the
child down. The procedure was quick, and
it was very painful, but Freireich knew that the kids could handle the pain,
because he himself, had been through pain and darkness. He knew that the children would get over it.
Freireich was boisterous and pushy in his medical
career. He was fired from his job
several times because he went against what others felt was safe and normal
practices. Because of his defiance, he
helped develop treatments and practices that are used today to save thousands
of lives. But he was rough and
unyielding on this road to medical success.
Why am I writing a book report on my blog? It’s because this story struck me right in
the heart. Not only do I personally
benefit from Dr Freireich’s accomplishments (with using chemotherapy drugs to
treat RA), but I can relate to him as someone who is emerging through tough
times to (hopefully) help someone else.
I don’t mean to sound self-serving and vain, but I have been through a
very long grieving process with my Rheumatoid Arthritis, and I feel like I am
able to be in a position to help others who may be just starting their grieving
period (more on that to come).
I can remember something my mother said about pain several
years ago. My brother had surgery to
remove his wisdom teeth when I was 8 or 9 years old and had kind of a tough
time recovering from it. One day, my mom
and I were just getting out of church when we came across a member of our
congregation who had been through brain surgery. I don’t remember the details of his situation,
but I remember seeing him with his fresh scar and his hair shaved off the side
of his head. He asked my mom how my
brother was doing. She said that he was
having kind of a tough time. The man
told her that if my brother wanted to know what pain was like, he should come
talk to him and he would explain what real pain is. That bothered my mom. Afterwards, she explained that just because
he has been through a lot of pain, doesn’t mean that no one else ever
experiences pain.
I am here to combine these two thoughts. I have a lot of pain in my life. Just because I have a lot of pain that many
other people don’t and won’t ever experience, doesn’t mean that no one else
ever experiences pain. A stubbed toe is
still painful for someone who doesn’t have RA.
Recovery from knee replacement surgery is still hard and painful for
someone who doesn’t have RA, and I sympathize with those people. Having said that, I do know that it’s
possible to recover from and “get over” painful situations. I have gone through knee replacement surgery,
twice. I know that if I meet someone
going in for a knee replacement, I know that person is going to be fine and
recover from that surgery (barring any mishaps and assuming the person performs
physical therapy as he/she should). So,
I may sympathize, but probably not for long because I personally know what pain
is, under normal and extreme conditions.
If you would like to tell me about your pain and suffering,
I would be extremely happy to lend an ear and possibly help you get over any
fears you may have. But don’t expect me
to tell you what a strong person you are to be going through this trial and hold your hand every step of the way, because now you know that I already know that you are a strong
person. You don't need me to tell you that. You need to realize that you're a strong person and you need to find your own ways to handle the pain you
experience. Your way of dealing with things may be different than mine. I had to find my way, now
let’s find yours.
Riley
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