The Emissivity of Pain

R — A – T — E

REFLECTANCE — ABSORBANCE — TRANSMITTANCE — EMISSIVITY

The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 02

What is expected of a person who has been absorbing pain for almost 20 years? It’s a slippery slope for a variety of reasons. Showing pain elicits sympathy. Constantly showing too much pain leads to responses of martyrdom, overreaction, hypochondria, and narcissism. Masking your pain will draw connotations of bravery, getting better, or “it’s not that bad for him.” I always thought it was best to show a little bit of one, a pinch of the other, and absorb the rest.

The pain I struggle with is often REFLECTED off me in not-so-subtle, direct ways. I have tried to tell the world, “Because of my MS, I am in constant pain.” I usually do this in my blogs, in search of sympathy and support during fundraising season. Much in the same way, the pains every MS patient feels are TRANSMITTED through me when I share examples of the burdens we experience. My revelation hopefully draws sympathy while my smile highlights bravery as I mock the pain with a hearty smile and casual pose.

Even in those extremes, so much is ABSORBED. Often forgotten are the normal days. Getting out of bed in the morning… Going to bed at night… Standing too long… Sitting too long… Trying to cook… Trying to eat… Dishes… Laundry… Heat/cold, reading/writing, doing too much/too little/anything at all… Every moment of every day draws pain and discomfort. How do I draw out all that I have absorbed because of my MS? What is the emissivity of my pain after almost 20 years?

I can’t scream. They are a set of muscles in your neck responsible for the production of sound and speech. These laryngeal muscles are part of the long list of muscles kind–of–sort–of damaged by my MS. A while back I was dining with a group of friends when one of them popped their chair up to scoot it closer to the table— and right on to my dues want toes. That hurt; my first reaction was to scream. What came out was a screeching sound akin to a bathtub full of screaming baby piglets. It did not have its intended effect.

I can’t cry. Emotionally, I have become overly sensitive to the slightest tug at my heartstrings. On no less than seven separate occasions, Eleanor had to ask me if I was OK yesterday. We were at the movies watching the new release of Aladdin. My muscles would constrict in my neck and chest. I don’t know why I could not contain myself, I’ve seen the original about 10,000 times. Although emotions are a common symptom of MS patients, mine expressions are limited to uncomfortable “choked up” feelings at insignificant times. Beyond that–nothing.

The emissivity of my pain is limited to my words for now. Maybe this blog is my first step. Hopefully, I won’t be limited to random reactions of “Fuck,” “Ouch,” and “Help.”

I don’t want to absorb any more pain

Disclaimer: multiple sclerosis differs vastly from patient to patient. No two instances are the same. Symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment are just some of the factors that lead credence to the saying, “Once you've met one MS patient, you've met one MS patient.” My experiences described are unique to me. However, there is an underlying pattern in the fight every one of us faces.

Because it is a fight.

The fight is not over and it won’t be over until a cure is found.

It will never stop…nor will we

It will never quit…nor will we

This is why we ride!

Please donate today: https://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/eleanor

100% of the royalties earned from my books go to the National MS Society, to support our fight: https://neverstopneverquit.com/books

Never Stop… Never Quit…?

Kevin Byrne

Portland, OR

www.neverstopneverquit.com

www.neverstopneverquit.blogspot.com

Never Stop… Never Quit… Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off.