Empathizing with my own pain

As I lay in bed last night, in pain, starting my sixth week of shingles, something wonderful happened. A god moment, if you will.

I started feeling this strange back pain at Christmas. We were over at some of Angie’s in-laws house and I just could not get comfortable. I was in a dull pain, nothing terrible. I wanted to sit and rest, but couldn’t find a comfy spot. I was tired for no reason.

A day or two later in the shower, I noticed something on my skin. One glance from Ang decided shingles. I went to prompt care, got a prescription, and started working from home.

Two more doctor visits, and hundreds of dollars later, despite insurance, here we sit. The physical rash is all but got. The internal pain remains. My brain protects me in a way that I don’t remember what the last phase felt like. I am really only aware of where I am with the pain.

I am grateful to remember how it all started, so I can be vigilant if I feel that again, but the in-between phases are a blur. The current phase has me googling things like, what does nerve damage feel like? And, what does nerve damage from shingles feel like? I live in a very visual world with computers and emails and gifs. It felt strange to try to find something that probably didn’t have a picture and a meme to go with it.

So last night, when I was laying in bed, feeling this burning stabby internal pain that happens in waves like contractions, this experience pops into my head. When Isabella was very small, probably toddler age, she got some kind of bump on her butt that was causing her a lot of pain. Today I don’t remember what it was, some kind of little infection, maybe kind of like a spider bite. We saw it and she complained about it, so we took her to the doctor.

At the doctor, they were going to drain it or pop it or something. They knew it was going to be painful. She was young enough that they didn’t think she would lay there on her own. I was tasked with laying on my back on the exam table and holding her to my front. I’m laying there, holding her to my chest, telling her everything is going to be okay. When they did whatever they did, her whole body shook like an intense shiver in pain. She yelped out and then started crying.

I held her tighter as she squirmed. I cooed and hushed her and said things like, it’s over now. Or, there there, that’s better. It’s gonna get better now. I held her till she started to calm down. It was a very intense experience as a mother to be that close to my child and feel that kind of raw pain. I was experiencing her pain as well as my own holding her through it. My poor baby.

One of my therapists one time told me to talk to myself as if I were talking to my daughter. I instantly burst out in tears. I was not talking to myself anything like I spoke to my daughter. I would never speak to her the way I spoke to myself.

Last night laying in bed, I dialed in to that feeling as a mother, holding my child on the exam table, only the child I was holding was me. I remembered the shivering intense pain and the ability to hold her tighter and tell her everything was going to be okay. I remembered those words from the therapist. Everything is going to be okay. This can’t last forever. There there. Shhhhh. I know. I know.

I’m so tired of this pain. I went back to the doctor this week for a physical. I have gained weight as a result of my inactivity. I can’t be out and about for long before the pain creeps in more and more. And I haven’t worn a bra since Christmas! I hate it. I miss my frickin’ bras. I am certain that my boobs will sag more after this experience and I don’t want saggy boobs! I have worn a bra my entire life to prevent that before it’s rightful time! Bah! I can’t even have my therapy cat on my chest without pain!

There there. Shhhhh. Everything is going to be okay. I have you. I am holding you. I feel your pain and I will not leave you through it. I will help you take care of yourself. I will speak kindly to you and help you continue to ask for what you need. I will advocate for you at work and be gentle with you at home. I will not call you lazy. I will be patient with your recovery. I will not make excuses for you but help you stand in your truth. I will be frustrated with you but I will not let you lose heart or hope. I will help you cut back on spending to rebuild your financial cushion. I will help you reel in the crazy with the upcoming wedding. Finances, planning, details, and I will help you remember to enjoy the process. I will help you manage the stress, not deny it. I will see you through your recovery process and help you back into an more active life when you are ready. I will hold space for you. You are doing a really good job with something that you have never been through before. I love you with my whole heart.

Pretty sure I fell asleep quite quickly after that.

Let’s talk about Sam Muse

Well we talked about the Badge Man, so let’s talk about the real love of my life, Samuel Muse Brown.

2023.

Sam was a gift given more than 10 years ago. For many of you who don’t know the story of my life with cats, I had a cat curse for many years. All during my 20’s I could not keep a cat for more than three years.

In the course of the 20’s I lost maybe close to ten cats! One got into some poison under the sink and died howling in my arms on the way to the vet. One was hit by a car in a parking lot. One was taken from my front yard. One got a blood clot above his back legs and had to be put to sleep. Several were donated to a friend of mine so I could get help for my substance use disorder. In my 20’s I never had a cat that got to age four.

In 2012, Ex-spouse got me a cat as a surprise. I guessed it before she even had a chance to give him to me. She mentioned quite casually, I got you a surprise. The first words out of my mouth were, is it a kitten? She was shocked. Who guesses kitten right out of the gate, she asked. Me. It’s me. At the time, I was living with two mangey dogs.

Sam around 2012-2013 making his needs known.

I am a huge fan of farm cats and ex-spouse had someone at work that had a litter of farm cats. And so Sam came into my life. I named him after my best friend’s child. Upon hearing the name from Facebook, he called and asked directly, did you name your cat after my kid? Yes, yes I did.

2013.

Sam has been a rock over the last 11 almost 12 years. He has been fostered twice in the name of recovery. I could not be more grateful to those that cared for him. At one point, he was named an emotional support animal by my therapist and waived of all rent and pet deposits. He’s pretty special.

2014.

Our bond is amazing. He truly is the emotional support animal that I have needed and continue to rely on. He is a cat after all, so he does his own thing, but I do not think there is a day that goes by that I don’t find him in my lap once or twice.

2015.
Arrival of the two-legged pet in 2015.
Moving into The 1505. 2021.

He loves the outdoors. He goes outside daily and has most of his life. He absolutely loves the sun and the heat. He will lay outside in the direct sun until the temps reach close to 100° before he moves to the shade. He loves getting dirty. He lays right in the dirt and rolls around scratching his back on the earth. He often comes to the back door covered in dirt or dried grass.

Outside working with mom, filthy and not giving a shit. 2021
Assisting with water removal from the crawl space. 2021

He is a hunter as well. He has presented me with several birds over the years. One particular time at a First Thursday Fellowship Fire, he came around the corner with a live bird in his mouth, only to be scared by one of the guests, lets the bird go, and it goes flying away. We all stood there dumbfounded going, what just happened?

Tolerating Badger at The 1505.
2022.

He loves cuddling and sitting in almost anyone’s lap. He loves being outside with us when we have fires. He will wander around the fire and hop into anyone’s lap that has settled in. He’s black and quiet, so hard to see at night under a camp chair by the fire. He has scared the crap out of me more than once by jumping in my lap or rubbing against my leg before I had visual.

Helping mom work, obviously. 2022.

Sam has boundary issues and I like to think that I made him that way. He loves laying on heads when we are in bed. He loves getting right up in your face. If it is therapeutic to put your face in cat fur, then Sam should get an award for all the therapy he allows.

Boundary issues to my delight.

Sam has taken his show on the road at least once. Many years ago, ex-spouse worked at a retirement center for mentally disabled adults. She thought his presence would bring them joy, so we strapped him in and took him down to the retirement center. Once he got his bearings, he allowed anyone and everyone to get a pet. At one point he was in the lap of one of the animal lovers and stayed there for some time. She was beside herself with joy.

Unlike most cats, Sam is down for pets. He will fall over on his side and expose his belly if you are around him outside. He allows scratching of the back, and loves anything near the head, neck and shoulders. He lets me pet his belly when he is in our bed and sleeps dotingly at my feet every night.

He is outside with my just chillin’ anytime I am out there.

I cannot believe how long he has been in my life. The only souls in this world that I have spent more time with, are my family of origin in my first 18 years. He’s on his way to outlasting that time as well. What an amazing guy. I love you, Sam Brown.

Heller? Anyone?