Ode to Pain.

voltee ♦ January 8, 2013 ♦ 1 Comment

Item: Pants Color/Fabric: Army green, Designer: Sanctuary Where Purchased: A gift from Tess Years Owned: Five

Today was sort of a monumental day. I went to see my superstar surgeon, Dr. Bryan Kelly, to check on my three-month post-op progress.
I’m proud to say that it’s very good!
I think I could take A-Rod at this point.
However.
I saw many people wearing facial expressions I am very familiar with. And then I had the chance to speak to a few who aren’t doing as well as I am.
I have a slight advantage. I’ve been through this before.
Throughout the last four years, and specifically the last three months, I’ve given a great deal of thought to the nature of pain.
Pain is a bitch.
It can eat you alive. It can suck out your soul. It puts lines on your face as it leaves scars on your body.
And it’s not just physical. Emotionally, it is just as devastating. There are the nights, lying awake, hurting, wondering if it is all in your head.
Wondering what is wrong with you.
Wondering if you will ever be normal again.
Fearing that those around you are asking those exact same questions.
Worrying that those around you think you are crazy.
Worrying that you might actually be crazy.
Pain literally turns you inside out. It gets so hard to focus on anything other than what is hurting. Hard to not be introverted, to reach out. To be social. It makes you feel like a bad person and a worse friend.
To summarize; pain sucks. Hard.
A woman I met asked me when my pain started.
I answered without hesitation.
“2008. I was hiking in the Austrian Alps.”
Which is not altogether true. I had some strange occurrences before then.
But in the Alps was where I realized that something was most definitely wrong. Here’s how it started, the birth of chronic pain, detailed in crisp, color photos!

This is the start of the hike. Full of hope, eagerness, and brisk air! It was surreal, being surrounded by this majestic, breath-taking, historic beauty. I was truly excited to climb an Alp.
But it didn’t take long for the pain to set in. Every time I had to lift my leg to 90 degrees, there was a sharp pain. And this was a tall Alp, with a steep incline. Every step I took lifted my leg to 90 degrees. So I sat:

I don’t rest during hikes. Usually I am the fearless leader, doubling back to rejoin my companions when I get too far ahead. So this picture is very unusual. As is this one:

This expression is saying “Stairs, you have completely and irrevocably broken my heart.” This is not something I usually say to stairs. I love stairs! I love to run up them multiple times, and even more to make other people run up them multiple times. So this was a historic moment in the relationship between stairs and myself.

This is about halfway up the mountain. I was not sure I could go further. And then I did. Afterall, we had but a few days in Austria. Who could say if I would ever get another chance to twirl on a mountain top in the Alpine breezes like Maria von Trapp? Plus, I wanted to know what was up there. And it turned out to be so many surprises!

This unbelievably pristine lake. Multiple cold, crystalline waterfalls. Snow. Edelweiss. Edelweiss!! Giant, fat Alpine frogs, hiding in snow. Teeny tiny Alpine frogs covering but one fingernail. It was magical.
Did I twirl?
Of course I did.
But there was one more surprise waiting for us.
A restaurant on the top of the world.
It was run by two smiling women who spoke not one word of English. They had to bring out their specialty to show us, since they could not describe it. And I could not have been more overjoyed.

Soup!! This is honestly the best, heartiest, tastiest, most soul-healingist soup I have ever sipped.
Nate and I still talk about it, in the hushed, reverent tones befitting a true legend.
And the pants have become a hiking staple. Spain, Vermont, Esopus… I think they are adorable and very functional.
They travel well.
The only drawback is that they are a little too big. I need to cinch the waist a bit to avoid flashing my naughty bits.
Is that a deal breaker? Or are these the type of rugged pants one wears literally to pieces?
And to everyone out there, dealing with pain of whichever form, I want to tell you not to give up. Not to go all Miley Cyrus on you, but…
Yes, you are battling with a very tall mountain. Yes, sometimes it is too hard to go on. Sometimes, you slide down a little. Sometimes you even fall off and have to start over even more battered than before.
But once you reach the peak, and you will reach the peak, there will be surprises there, more than you ever imagined. It will be worth it!
There even might be soup.
Here’s hoping that I am about to peak!