Coffee & Writing

I would like to add an image for you about physical pain, but when I looked around none of them could describe it as well as this:

I was recently diagnosed with pneumonia but that’s not a big deal; it seems like I get pneumonia every year. My chest hurts, I take antibiotics, I substitute my coffee for orange juice (most of the time), and I’m good again. However, this time it was different.

Sure I had my pneumonia, but I also had something separate and painful beyond words happen at the same time. (Although, if it’s beyond words, technically I should’t be writing a blog about it, but I need to do something cathartic–sue me.)

My stomach felt like it was tearing, literally tearing, apart. They tried so many things in the ER before admitting me to the hospital. I won’t go into what I was doing because I don’t want to completely repulse you. I even let them give me morphine when all else failed to ease the pain and I DO NOT LIKE narcotics of any sort, not percocet, not morphine, not anything–the stories you hear about addiction, very scary. Fun fact: in case you’re in pain, an anti-histamine helps!

I had to go back to the ER I was in so much pain. They did their best, but there wasn’t much they could do for me, except give me anti-nausea medicicne and some anti-histamine.

It sort of felt like I was experiencing extreme hunger, so I asked to leave because there was nothing more they could do for me, I didn’t want to hold up a bed, and I told them I was going to try eating something. They weren’t crazy about the idea, but they said, if you eat, do bland foods like mashed potatoes, eggs, stuff like that.

I was able to eat yogurt (my cat does not like cat treats, but she loves yogurt and the vet says it is good for her health), so I stole one of my cat’s peach (her favorite) yogurts and it went down my throat which sort of felt like it was closing. The closing sensation could be a GI problem or maybe it’s related to the pneumonia? Not a doctor here.

So, I ordered some instant mashed potato cups and vanilla yogurt. I tried one of the mashed potato cups and within a few bites. The pain started again. I had to call 9-1-1 again and, again, there wasn’t much they could do for me. I was still in a lot of pain. There was a third time I called the rescue squad within 24 hours, I felt so bad.

The good news is with the three CT scans I had in total, my stomach was not tearing apart. The bad news is that it still felt that way. Between screams, I was apologizing to people treating me that I was sorry for being short with them.

It’s difficult to describe pain, mental or physical, because it’s different for everyone. The reason I have a vision of hell at the top is because this was so painful, so powerful, I could not pray. Every once in a while, there was a small window where I was able to say a very speedy Hail Mary in my head.

That’s what I figure hell must be like, the absence of prayer, the absence of God. The pain, I don’t mind (well, I do mind), but the absence of God would be a thousand daggers in my stomach. I cry as I write this, because I can’t imagine that. Knowing God, loving God, being blessed by God in the Eucharist, I can’t imagine not ever having that.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m kind of fond of God.

The only thing about all the pain I experienced is that I pray I was taking on the pain someone else would have had. Even if I wasn’t, I can at least be in solidarity with people who are in extreme physical pain. And I have also been blessed with mental pain so bad I have writhed in agony, so I can empathize with someone going through that too.

While pain may feel like a terrible monster when you are experiencing it, and I do not discount that; heck, I thought I was atoning for something terrible I had done, pain is actually a gift.

I know that sounds strange, but it teaches us how others can feel. If we know how bad we can feel, how much more have we learned about our brother or sister? We are all humans writhing in agony or doubled over in so much physical pain no medicine can fix it. If we can remember that, we can be empathic to our brothers and sisters. That’s the point of pain being a blessing and a gift, it teaches us to love each other more.

Miriam Kavanagh

UPDATE: It turns out I had E. coli and that’s what was causing the extreme pain.