Pain

(Val) Pain can steal our time, rule our days and torment us throughout the night. It can be unrelenting, brutal and completely dominating. It is heartless, thoughtless and raw. Pain isolates us into our own cold, dark, windowless prison cells, where others may visit, but they never understand the depth of our agony.

This past week, I have learned a lot about pain. Unfortunately, I am pretty sure the lessons are going to continue for a while. In fact, just the effort to type this quick post will undoubtedly cause more pain. But I miss doing this and I’m willing to take the risk.

It all started Monday morning when I sat down to start the day’s work. My shoulder began to hurt, and, having assumed that maybe I’d just slept in an odd position, I tried stretching, bending and massaging the ache, but these actions only made things worse. Eventually, I took myself to a doctor, was diagnosed with a rotator cuff injury and a pulled tricep. He gave me some pain meds and I took them and prayed for relief. I’m still waiting.

On Thursday, I saw another doctor. Her diagnosis was muscle spasms. This time I not only got different meds, but orders for physical therapy. I start tomorrow, and I can only hope that this is the answer.

The pain is in my right shoulder, tricep, bicep, and elbow, and my index and middle fingers are asleep and tingly. I call them my “mouse fingers” because they are the ones I use the most when working with my computer mouse. Typing is uncomfortable, but doesn’t cause the sharp pain that working the mouse does. It’s very strange indeed.

Because of all this pain and tingliness, I have been unable to work for most of the week. It has been frustrating for me, to say the least, and I know it has to be even more so for my co-workers who are trying their best to cover for me. We are behind in posting the news, but I know that every effort is being made to keep up. I can only hope that my co-workers realize how much I appreciate their efforts. As someone who is always in the thick of things where work is concerned, having to sit on the sidelines has been a humbling experience.

And so I sit here, and I count the hours until my physical therapy appointment, and I ponder pain and why God allows it. It’s one of those questions I want to ask when I step through the gates of heaven. All I know is that He is always with me, in the dark of night when I can’t sleep because of the pain, and in those rare, brief moments when I find a position that doesn’t hurt. I am thankful for God’s promise to give me hope, and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). I just hope that the future is a little less painful.