Friday, October 7, 2011

Having spent a good number of years afflicted by the results of serious injuries, I’m always impressed when I come across another who also has suffered and overcome.  Had that opportunity last night when I met a gentleman who suffered a serious spinal injury years back. 

His injury was serious, leaving him in a wheelchair for months and then needing to use a cane for over six years, his left leg not always responding to the messages his brain would send it to function.  I could relate to the latter, my right knee doing the same thing after one of my accidents and subsequent surgeries. 

A common thread being found between us, the gentleman and I spent a good amount of time talking, his wife also contributing to the conversation.  The man and I shared stories of how our injuries were gained and then laughed over how the silliest thing, like reaching into a dishwasher can flare up our injuries, yet we’re able to bench press 150 pounds and move heavy items without a twinge of discomfort. 

The man was a bit perplexed by this, as I’d been until a few years back when I realized why reaching into the dishwasher or similar activities would aggravate my spinal injuries.   I shared that when we attempt to pick up anything with our elbows being hinged away from rather than at our sides, our lower backs experience immediate stress that our injuries can’t deal with.  The man thought about it for a minute and then agreed that was right.  I was glad I’d been able to shed some light on ways to avoid further injuries. 

The man and I continued talking, his asking if I believed that due to my injuries I had a higher pain tolerance, for he believed he did.  I smiled and told him I was sure of it.  That I’d done a ton of research and written articles on the subject.  Intrigued, he asked to learn more.  So I explained how, when a person is made to live with chronic pain, their body adjusts by creating higher endorphin levels, endorphins being the body’s natural pain blockers.  Seeing as I’d spend fifteen years living with chronic pain due to a number of overlapping serious injuries, I could relate to having a higher pain tolerance.  The man bobbed his head up and down, pleased to be sharing with someone who understood, firsthand, what his body had been going through since his injury.

Looking at one another, we marveled over how most wouldn’t be aware we’d ever been seriously injured or that we carried with us permanent damage to our spines.  We smiled at one another, a knowing look, aware of just how much determination and dedication had gone into overcoming our injuries and proving our doctors wrong.  The man had been told he’d never walk again without a cane.  I’d been told I’d never run again.  We rejoiced when we disproved those diagnoses.

Like me, the man’s spinal injuries are in his lower back, which causes him to carry stress in his upper back, it tightening up.  I shared with him some ideas on ways to alleviate that stress and then proceeded to stretch out his back a bit.  The look of utter satisfaction on the man’s face after I’d relieved the stress in his back is something I’ll always cherish.  His wife, looking on, almost had tears in her eyes, so grateful that her husband had been granted a spell without discomfort.  She came to me and gave me the biggest hug as she thanked me. 

Like me, the man doesn’t walk around bemoaning the discomfort he’s in.  Instead, he takes it in stride, knowing it’s just…part of being him.  He’s not upset and doesn’t let a little thing like his pain get in the way of his making the most out of life.  Comfortable with sharing with another who has known his level of constant pain, the man shared that there hasn’t been a day since his injury that he hadn’t been in pain…until after I stretched out his back.  I knew what he meant.  Though he’d had some of the best doctors and physical therapist work on him, I knew, just as he’d learned, that it sometimes takes one who’s been there done that to know the right amount of finesse to work out the body’s kinks.