Recently, I spent three and a half hours in my OB’s office for a second gestational diabetes screening. It was a long appointment and something I wasn’t totally equipped to handle at the time due to my pain levels, but it was necessary. So after the first hour, I asked to lie down in an exam room to help me cope with my pain.
Lying down helped with my SPD pain (from pregnancy) and my neck pain, but the most important part of resting in the exam room for those two hours was that I had privacy. I was able to breathe a little easier as soon as I removed myself from the waiting room. It’s hard to feel on display in front of others when I’m really struggling to cope with pain, and I felt much calmer once I was alone.
Why is it easier to cope with pain in private?
For me, it takes a lot of energy and focus to stay calm when I’m in pain, and it’s easier to stay calm when I’m alone. But perhaps the most important reason why I need privacy is that I am more likely to push myself way too far when I’m with other people.
If I’m with a big group of people, it’s really hard to say, “I have to leave now to rest because of my pain levels.” I often find myself putting it off or looking to squeeze another 30 minutes in until it’s more reasonable to leave. Too many times I hit my breaking point before I finally decide I have to go, and then by the time I’m settled and resting I’m far past the point of reasonable recovery.
I wish it wasn’t this way. But pain feels like a threat. It makes my body panic, especially after living with it for so long. And I often want to pretend like I won’t have to suffer so much, but that’s just not true. When the pain ramps up I start to feel like a cornered animal who just needs to escape to a safe shelter.
Pain takes a lot from me.
A few weeks ago, a good friend of mine offered to drive me to an appointment in another city, which meant so much to me. I wanted to turn the medical appointment into a fun day trip and also relieve my husband of having to take half a day off of work to drive me. But I didn’t accept her offer because I knew it would be anything but fun, and I didn’t feel prepared to go through high pain levels in front of her for an extended time.
This isn’t a reflection on my friend – at all. It’s really about who I’m comfortable being in a lot of pain in front of, and that’s pretty much only myself and my husband (and not necessarily all of the time with him, either).
I know from experience that the hours in the car aren’t fun; I’d likely be unable to talk for much of it because of pain. Then there would be the long walk to the office and the difficulty of sitting through the appointment – leaving me in a low place before we even start the drive back home (which was made worse because the doctor upset me during the visit).
I knew it’d be easiest on me mentally to only have my husband see me at that point when I start kind of losing it from my pain. So not only do I have to endure the pain, but also the loss of getting to turn a chore into something fun and spend time with a friend.
What I learned about pain, privacy, and accommodations.
During that long appointment at the OB, I was able to work through my pain pretty well. All I was doing was lying on an exam table by myself practicing deep breathing and gratitude, but that was really hard work.
It was hard to not panic, hard to stay positive while in severe pain, hard to keep from tensing up even more, and hard to focus on resting. I’ve been using different pain management techniques to help me try to break the pain cycle in my brain and body, but this is difficult because my brain has been stuck in pain mode for so long and it doesn’t totally know how to get out of this cycle.
One of the best techniques I’ve learned is to focus on something positive – joyful even – to help get your mind out of fight-or-flight mode so that the pain can chill out.
When you feel like your world is crashing down from pain, it can be extremely difficult to focus on a positive – and keep your focus there for long enough to make a difference. When the pain is overwhelming I struggle to think of things I’m grateful for and if other people need my attention, it only makes the task harder.
In the end, I kept my pain levels low enough that day so that I could drive myself home, but I’m not sure that I could have done it in a public space. That appointment taught me that I should ask for accommodations more often. It was truly no big deal for the staff to give me an empty room and it made things so much easier on me. I had been really frustrated to have to return for that three hour screening, but I’m glad for the lesson I learned there.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many other situations could have been made easier if I wasn’t so afraid to ask for a bit of help or flexibility. I’m glad it’s something I’ve considered before I head to labor and delivery in the next week or two, where I will ask for a lot more accommodations this time around compared to my first birth.
I don’t need to try to push through pain as often. I need to be more willing to ask for help. I need to save my energy and limit my pain, especially as a mom to a three-year-old with another baby arriving soon.
My Pain Needs Privacy. #chronicpain Share on X
Featured photo by Pixabay from Pexels via CCO license. Above version modified by My Meena Life.
