Friday, November 02, 2007

Thresholds of Pain

[[open: The Police: King of Pain]] Ah, thank you, Sting. This is just what’s been on my mind at this spooky time of year: Pain.  Physical pain. What truths does pain tell?  Is it always bad?  Do Americans believe only other people should feel pain?  I wonder.

Sometimes, we cannot bear the thought of pain.  At the dentist’s, for example, like many people I am terrified, a worrying flincher at the tiniest twinge. I want numbness; I expect oblivion.  Not long ago, though, my new dentist – an exuberant young woman in a high ponytail – said some drilling was in order.  Then she asked: “Do you want to try it without being numbed?” What?  I was horrified, but she said, “Well, it will hurt some, but it won’t be unbearable.  Can you take it for about 45 seconds?” Put that way, knowing that I wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the day with a deadened head and drooling lips – I said I’d give it a whirl.  It was a revelation.  Did it hurt?  Yes – but I was ready.  This time, I didn’t expect oblivion.  What I got was feeling.  I was able to walk out of the clinic with a fixed tooth and a clear head. And enlightenment.

I was reminded of giving birth.  I didn’t expect to pass a human being into the world without feeling it.  I was ready.  I didn’t fear pain, whereas folks who expect a numb childbirth tend to freak out if the meds let through even a twinge.  Now, let me be clear – there are births, and there are hard births.  There are shallow cavities, and there are root canals.  Not all pain is equal.

My point is a more philosophical one, though.  Maybe Americans fear pain more than we should at times.  We expect to feel nothing when feeling something may be preferable. A terrible headache may tell us, for example, that we need to rest – a truth that we often ignore, tossing back pain-killers that don’t address the cause.  Pain is one of the ways our bodies tell us the truth.  Most of us are desperately out of practice at listening.

Here’s another truth: each time we refuse novocaine, each time we say no to medication or procedures we don’t really need, the insurance systems are strained a little less; they can cover other people a little more.

But this raises another question:  If we hate pain, how can we endure knowing so many millions of Americans suffer without healthcare?  Michael Moore’s movie, Sicko, opens with a gruesome shot of a guy sewing up a gaping wound in his own leg.  Strangely – unaccountably – this is pain we seem quite willing to tolerate.  Go to the Sicko website and see if you can stand the stories piling up from folks writing in about terrible pain needlessly suffered, lives ruined from diseases and accidents we Americans have the power to heal, just not the will, apparently.  An uninsured friend of mine tells of contracting a minor infection and lying awake all night, terrified it would require treatment she couldn’t afford.  “I insure my car,” she told me, through exhausted tears, “but not myself.  What’s wrong with us?”

It’s not a question I can answer.  Can you?  We are at a moment when our government unflinchingly endorses torture, even though many experts claim people will confess meaningless untruths to stop such pain. Why do Americans who can’t stand a headache tolerate the dismembered bodies of American soldiers or Iraqi citizens?  Why have we turned the latest horror movie about torture and dismemberment, Saw 4, into a box office hit?

What truths does pain tell?  As Americans, we should wonder about the pain we won’t tolerate, and the pain we will.  Are we listening?  It may be way past time to feel.

Broadcast by April Lidinsky on November 02, 2007
Health • News & Editorial • Peace & War • Permalink • Printer Friendly
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