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By Crystal Lindell

Chronic pain is a thief. It steals your health, relationships, money, motivation, and time.

This week, so far, it has taken one full day away from me. My Tuesday was stolen.

That’s when my fiancé and I were supposed to go visit his relatives, who live about 2 hours away. But as soon as I woke up, I knew we weren’t going to make it. 

It was a bad pain day. Gray, dull, and full of inflammation.

The intercostal neuralgia in my ribs was flaring up, and I was having a hard time sitting upright. It was all I could do to keep myself out of bed long enough to brush my teeth.

Still, I tried to resist.

I told myself I just needed time to let my morning meds kick in. That, maybe, the weather would ease, and so would my pain.

But by 10:30 a.m. I knew I was going to have to tell my fiancé the verdict: there was no way I was going to be able to make that trip.

Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate. Just a quick and comforting “Okay.” And then he called his relatives to tell them we needed to reschedule for later in the week.

But I couldn’t help but feel disappointed and a little guilty. I hate having to cancel plans, and I hate worrying about what others will think when I do.

I was also frustrated with the realization that everything else I had planned for the week was now going to be squashed together or canceled.

Because having a bad pain day doesn’t suddenly mean that I have less to do. It just means I have less time to do it.

There were points in my life when my pain was so poorly managed that it would steal a lot more than one day of the week from me. Sometimes, it would take all seven.

And when those weeks happened, it was all too easy to blame myself. I should have pushed through it, been tougher, gotten it done.

It doesn’t help when other people make you feel guilty. After all, it is a lot easier to call someone “lazy” than it is to sympathize with their health struggles. 

A saying I often repeat to myself in those times is something my mom would always say to me when I was growing up: “All you can do is all you can do.”

I say it a lot because I still don’t always believe it. I have to constantly remind myself that my limits are actually my limits.

Beyond the guilt though, there’s also the sadness that comes when chronic pain steals your time. How many days do I have left on this earth, and how many of them will chronic pain take? How many holidays? How many more Tuesdays?

And how much time have I already lost to my pain?

It’s not fair. I want my time to be mine. I want to use it how I want to use it. 

The right pain medications give me a lot of my time back, and that’s why I treasure them so much. It’s why I work so hard to advocate for pain patients to have access to them. Because we all deserve to keep as much of our time as possible. 

In the end, all we can do is all we can do. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get as much help doing it as possible.