This summer I spent a lot of time thinking about pain. I tore my hamstring in early May, and an orthopedic surgeon said it would probably take four to five months to heal. I am well aware that a torn hamstring is trivial in the overall scheme of life, but, as an active individual forced to forgo summer league basketball, I spent May and June complaining about my ailment, "why me?" However, my self pity was short lived, as a series of events drastically transformed my thought process throughout the rest of the summer.
Shortly after I came home, my mom suffered a severe allergic reaction. A major symptom was vertigo, and she was unable to read or focus with her eyes. While basketball might have been out of the picture, at least I could read. A few weeks later, I visited my aunt, who suffers from multiple sclerosis (MS), a chronic autoimmune disease characterized by the gradual degradation of myelin around one's neurons. The symptoms include muscular weakness, a loss of coordination, and, eventually, speech and visual disturbances. I realized how little I understood about others with chronic illnesses.
My complaints instantly became "Do I really have anything to complain about?" My most memorable experience occurred after I threw a mini temper tantrum after receiving the news on how long my leg would take to heal before I could run again. In an effort to curtail my complaints, my dad gave me a kick in the butt and sent me on a bike ride. I will never forget turning a corner and seeing two severely handicapped individuals being pushed in wheelchairs.
"Do I really have anything to complain about?" suddenly became "How much do I have to be thankful for?" Throughout the rest of the summer I did my rehab at the YMCA. Inevitably, whenever I started moping about how unfair my current situation was, I would witness someone who could not use their legs or someone with cerebral palsy. My own discomfort was constantly put in perspective compared to the suffering of others. Rather than complaining about not deserving the "suffering" I was going through, I pondered whether or not I really deserved any of the physical blessings I possess. It is an interesting thought. Are we actually entitled to anything? What did any of us ever do to have the authority to claim life is unfair when we hurt? A Tylenol commercial advertised with the slogan, "The next step toward pain-free living." But I wonder, are we really meant to live pain-free?
While we initially think of pain-free living as utopian, one must wonder if this is really the case. Does good not often result from hardship? This phenomenon is clearly evident in delayed gratification. One works hard on the practice field to succeed in the game. Those who spend the time in the library reap the benefits on test day. Granted, we subject ourselves to the inconveniences of practicing and studying. However, in both self-afflicted and unwanted hardship scenarios, the outcome is often better in some way. The growth times in our lives often involve a period of wandering in some sort of desert. After enduring inconveniences, many have a more positive outlook and a greater understanding of life. We often marvel at those who have suffered most.
Joni Eareckson Tada is an inspiring example of one who has suffered greatly, and yet overcame. Ms. Tada was a victim of a diving accident, leaving her paralyzed from the neck down. After an intense struggle and prolonged depression, she became an author, painter (with her teeth), and founded an international disability center. Another example is Stephen Hawking, the famous British physicist. He suffers from Lou Gehrig's disease. At first, we think it is unfair that anyone should suffer in such a manner. However, Hawking stated that he would not have been able to make the discoveries he did if he were not confined to his wheelchair.
Paul Brand, a surgeon who worked with lepers in India, came to see pain in a different light. He observed those with pathological loss of pain sensors, and the resultant deformities which would ensue. He concluded that there could be positive purpose in pain. Similarly, "Charcot joint" is a term used to describe distorted joints caused by lack of warning pain sensors in people with peripheral neuropathies. Taking it one step further, pain may give us intellectual and spiritual notice, as it did for me this summer.
If we journeyed through life without pain, we would be unable to appreciate the times we are fortunate enough to be pain-free. We are not thankful for heat until we spend a night without it. I was not thankful for a hamstring until I could not use it for four months. Again, I am well aware that a torn muscle is an ever so minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of it all. One with chronic pain or disorder may rightly disagree with me entirely. Yet there seems to be a reason for pain, and we emerge from the desert better people.