I have come to find that I maintain a trait from childhood that I'm not sure if I like. On the surface level, it is an admirable trait. However, in the long run, I wonder how much damage is it doing to me, or has already done.
Last week I had another procedure to clear out the cells that would send me to a five year life sentence of melanoma. This is my second in six months. I'm not a fan, but it's the right thing to do - if I want to live to watch my kids grow up. The first surgery was on my back. It was an inconvenience, but I managed through. Some pain, some itching, and difficulty finding a way to relax. This last one was on my foot. Picture putting on a flip flop on your right foot. The inside strap that goes from big toe to arch, right about the midway point, is where they did the removal surgery. Five stitches, not a big deal. Within the first day, I popped two stitches - NOT because of me, but because the stitches were tight and the area of the foot is active. So, now I have three stitches and a hole. I have had times where the pain was truly bad. I have had sharp, intense, stabbing pains, and more dull, annoying pains, and everywhere in between. I do my best not to complain, but let's face it, sometimes it hurts. I often wonder if my chronic pain makes it better or worse. I live with an underlying pain like a current flowing through my veins. So, if I have an injury, is the pain heightened or are my nerves satisfied? I haven't yet figured it out. That isn't the trait I worry of. No matter what, when people ask about me, I want to tell them the truth - it hurts, it's uncomfortable, I wish I could run, etc. Usually I answer with, "Well, there is some pain, but I'm okay." Why don't I tell the truth? Every time I think of complaining I think of people that are dealing with so much worse. My pastor has a brain tumor. A buddy from college is fighting for his life against covid. A friend's daughter has been in the hospital for 15 days due to a burst appendix and complications. What right do I have to say, "Ow, my boo boo"? None. I need to suck it up. There are people fighting for their lives. How selfish can I be? Two years ago my friend was battling cancer. I remember being in a terrible flare while she was suffering. She started a group message with me and another friend. At one point I mentioned my flare and immediately felt guilty. How could I complain to my friend battling stage 4 cancer? Ugh. But her response has come back to my mind in the last week. She told me that even though our pains were different, they were both there. I couldn't stop experiencing my pain just because she was fighting cancer. In her pain, she validated mine. I honestly don't know what the answer is. My pain is valid. I acknowledge it. And yet, I also acknowledge that it is nothing compared to what others are facing. This is the same thing I experienced growing up with depression. Sure, I'm struggling, but at least I don't --. When did we start comparing our troubles? It's a competition I no longer want to be a part of.
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May 2023
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