What’s Your Pain Number?

If you have fibromyalgia, suffer from migraines, or have some other chronic pain illness, I think you can develop a skewed view of pain. Then when you go to the doctor because of some new or acute pain, and they ask “What’s your pain level on a scale of 1 to 10?”, I wonder if the answer is the same as it would be from someone who is otherwise healthy. I think that it may not be. I think when you deal with chronic pain what level of pain you consider tolerable – because there is no choice but to tolerate it – is much different than the person who is accustomed to living with a zero pain level.

It used to frustrate me when doctors would ask what my pain level was because I had no frame of reference for what was a 3 and what was a 9, or anything in between. Finally, several years ago, a pain specialist gave me a pain chart that I found very helpful in that it provides a description of each number on the pain scale. (I had to chuckle that they include “0 – No Pain” on the chart because I have no idea what that is like and wondered what the point of including this on the pain scale, except maybe to torment those of us who can never honestly say we are at 0.)

Anyway, I thought I would share this pain scale here, for those of you who have never had a doctor who was kind enough to give you a somewhat objective frame of reference. (I say somewhat objective because, as I said above, I think chronic pain can skew your view of what is tolerable pain.)

  1. Minimal = Pain is hardly noticeable.
  2. Mild = Feel a low level of pain; aware of pain only when paying attention to it.
  3. Uncomfortable = Pain is troubling but can be ignored most of the time.
  4. Moderate = Constantly aware of the pain but can continue normal activities.
  5. Distracting = Pain is barely tolerable; some activities limited by the pain.
  6. Distressing = Pain preoccupies thinking; must give up many activities due to pain.
  7. Unmanageable = Constant pain that interferes with almost all activities; often must take time off work; nothing seems to help.
  8. Intense = Severe pain makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the pain; conversations difficult.
  9. Severe = Can concentrate on nothing but the pain; can do almost nothing; can barely talk.
  10. Immobilizing = Pain is excruciating; unable to move except to seek immediate help for pain in emergency room, etc.; bedridden.

I recently experienced a pain in my side and abdomen that was different than and in a different place than any pain I have ever felt before. After talking to an advice nurse on the phone, I went to urgent care because she said I needed to be seen right away. She was concerned that it might be appendicitis or gall stones.

Once at urgent care, the doctor asked me the million dollar question, “What’s your level of pain on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” I really wish I’d had my handy pain scale with me. If I compared the pain I was in that day to the worst pain I’ve ever experienced (which happens to be a 10 on the above scale), it really wasn’t that bad. I think I told him it was a 3 or 4. But based on the above scale it was more like 6 or 7.

It turned out I don’t have appendicitis, though they still haven’t figured out what is wrong. But as I thought about my experience with this urgent care doctor, a guy who didn’t know me at all, I wonder how seriously he took my complaint of pain since it was only at a level of 3 or 4. I wonder if someone else coming into urgent care whose “worst pain ever” was only a 5 on this scale would have answered his query much differently.

Reducing pain to a number doesn’t seem that helpful to me. Does a subjective number that is skewed by the patient’s prior pain experience really help a doctor with a diagnosis? I don’t know that it does. So I think I’m going to print off this pain scale on a small piece of paper that I can easily carry in my purse so that the next time I’m asked that question, I can pull it out and have an objective description of my pain for the doctor.

Hope in the Darkness

Winter can be a particularly trying time for those who struggle with depression and bipolar disorder. The increased darkness outside can begin to reflect in our hearts and so increase the darkness within.

I know Pr. Bryan has posted here before about the challenge of winters in Alaska where the days are extremely short. But even in the Pacific Northwest, Seasonal Affective Disorder is a big problem. When you drive to work in very little light and drive home again in pitch dark, which is even darker when it is raining, it is hard to remember the long days of summer.

It is during this dark season that we must cling even more to the Light of Christ so that the darkness does not overcome us. We must cling to the faithfulness of our God who brings the sun every morning and the seasons in their turn, so that we know spring and summer will follow the darkness.

Thinking about this one dark night earlier this week, I wrote a poem, which I posted on my blog, Linda Kruschke’s Blog, as a Thankful Thursday post. I hope you like my ode to God’s promise of hope and light that stands firm even in the darkness, and that it reminds you of the hope we have in Jesus.

Hope in the Darkness

Sun sinks below the horizon
Darkness envelopes all life in my view
Each night the darkness comes sooner
Each morning the sun arises anew

This season, winter, brings darkness
It seems to engulf the light of my soul
Sometimes the darkness is deeper
And blacker than the blackest mine of coal

But winter does not last forever
Spring and summer bring sun ever near
Hope of a Light everlasting
Is all that my darkened soul needs to hear

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:4-5 (NIV).

My Favorite Name

This is a post that I first wrote on my own blog, Linda Kruschke’s Blog, in December of 2009. I somehow stumbled upon it the other day and thought it would be a good one to share here at Broken Believers. It is a good reminder that God is with us, and God wants us to be with Him. That is true for each and every person, no matter how broken or lost.

As Christmas is fast approaching, I’ve been thinking about the many names given to Jesus in the Bible. He is called the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Prince of Peace, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Alpha & Omega, and many more. But my favorite name of Jesus is Immanuel.

The prophet Isaiah wrote:

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.

Isaiah 7:14

This verse is quoted in Matthew 1:23 regarding Jesus, and in Matthew the writer defines the name Immanuel to mean “God with us.”

When I look at one of my many nativity scenes, that is what I see: God with us. For thousands of years God tried to get the message across to His people that He loved them and would always be there for them. He spoke through miracles, such as the parting of the Red Sea, and through prophets, such as Isaiah and Daniel. But in spite of all His attempts to get through to them, His people didn’t always get it.

So God decided to become one of us, to be with us, to experience life just as we do. I like the name Immanuel because it reminds me that God loves us enough to be willing to experience all the pain, trials, and heartache that we do, to fully understand how we experience relationships and love. God did this in hopes that we could and would better relate to Him. Because ultimately what He wants is for us to be with Him.

This Christmas, I hope you will feel the blessing of being with God and of God being with you. I hope you will experience the fullness of Immanuel.

Depression and Diabetes

DepressionCaseStudy_clip_image001For some reason lately I’ve been thinking about the similarities between diabetes and depression. I know that depression can be one of the complications of diabetes, but that is something I learned only when I did a little research about diabetes and isn’t what I want to share about these two diseases.

I do not have diabetes, but I do know people who do. Diabetes is a disease for which there is no “cure,” though there are treatments that can minimize the symptoms and complications that can arise from this disease. Some people with diabetes do a great job of taking such good care of themselves and following their doctor’s orders that they are virtually symptom free. You would never know they had diabetes unless they told you. I’ve known other diabetics who don’t follow doctor’s orders, and the outcome was terrible.

Dealing with diabetes is not an easy road. For people with Type 2 diabetes, a strict diet and exercise are a must, and monitoring blood sugar levels is essential. For people with Type 1 diabetes, insulin injections are also necessary because their bodies do not produce any of this necessary hormone. It is a lifelong affliction, the potential effects of which can be minimized but never forgotten or ignored.

I believe that for some people depression is similar to diabetes in that it is never cured. These people are prone to depression, and may have suffered through one or more episodes of major depression in their lives. From a statistical standpoint, a person who has had more than two major depressive episodes is highly likely to have another in their lifetime. But it isn’t inevitable that they will. Just as the symptoms of diabetes can be prevented or minimized with careful management, so the symptoms of depression can be prevented or minimized with proper care.

Caveat: I am not a doctor and this post is not intended as medical advice. It simply an observation that has been on my mind lately and is helpful for me in understanding my own challenges to keep depression at bay.

There are some people who, like the person with Type 1 diabetes, need medication to help keep them stable and to prevent major depression from setting in. (Though this may be a small percentage, just as Type 1 diabetes is much rarer than Type 2.)  But everyone who struggles with depression can help prevent or minimize the effects of a relapse by taking steps to truly care of themselves. Diet and exercise can be part of this self-care, but for the person who lives with the knowledge of depression there is a mental and spiritual component of their self-care that goes beyond what is required of the diabetic.

Many years ago the doctor I was seeing told me I would be on antidepressants for the rest of my life. Having now been off them for 13 years and not suffered another major depressive episode in all that time, I think I can safely say she was wrong. But in the last few years I have come to understand that I am one of those people who cannot take for granted that depression is strictly a part of my past. It is forever a part of who I am and I must never forget the misery it has caused me and could cause me again if I do not take care of my mental and spiritual health.

For me, warding off a relapse of depression requires that I choose to engage in regular prayer time; to listen to music that is encouraging and uplifting, and avoid music that is depressing; to talk to a Christian friend if something is bothering me; to take a periodic inventory of my own actions and attitudes, and correct any that are negative; and to trust in the Holy Spirit to guide my thoughts, putting on the whole armor of God. When I do these things, I can live in such a way that others would never know that depression is a part of my life. But if I neglect these things for too long, I will soon detect the specter of depression looming in my heart and in my mind, and the outcome will be terrible.

Just as the diabetic can never forget that they have diabetes and neglect their diet and health regimen, I can never forget that depression is ever a part of me and neglect my mental and spiritual regimen. I must be ever vigilant and cling to Jesus as my Rock, trusting in His promises, and following His commands and precepts to love, forgive, and be content.

 

ysic, Linda K.