Pain.
Although I had a few extremely sweet boyfriends in high school, by the time I entered college, mysterious health issues changed my personality and stole my energy. About twenty years later, the diagnosis came to light: stage IV endometriosis. I learned endometriosis stuck my ovaries to the back of my uterus and had grown over most of my abdomen, into my diaphragm. It also plastered other organs together and, very likely, caused sciatica and nerve issues around my spine.
Back to late high school and all of college: despite seeing (I believe) about twenty healthcare providers (pain management doctors, surgeons, physical therapists, specialists), my back and sciatic pain, as well as stiffness, interfered with my ability to be active without fear of pain or embarrassment. I’d lost my natural athleticism, which was a powerful, healthy stress reliever and happiness generator. I still tried, but my pain-free life was in the past. It was extremely frustrating and disappointing.
To cope and mentally escape, I threw myself into my studies. My favorite quote during that season is, to the best of my memory, from Abraham Joshua Heschel: “The school is a sanctuary; learning is a form of worship.” My grades wouldn’t have been what they were, and I wouldn’t have been as focused on my studies, if it weren’t for my pain.
There are much worse, frightening and lethal health challenges than mine. By my senior year of college, I was in bed frequently, and sometimes, it was a challenge for me to stand for more than an hour. I was a twenty year old in an eighty-year-old’s body.
My (then) undiagnosed health issues and uncertain prognosis hindered me with a colossal obstacle to romance. I wasn’t myself – pain was my pursuer, had my number and controlled my options. I was just existing. I wish I could repeat college, without pain’s physical and psychological poison.
Despite my health challenges, I cherish certain parts of college – sweet friends and rare opportunities. I learned to escape into studies as a healthier coping mechanism. But, I was depressed, and no doctor gave answers or a scrap of hope.
The summer after college, I had back surgery, which, for the record, didn’t solve the problem. In my mid-twenties, I met a miracle-working physical therapist, who loosened my spine (for several years) and taught me how to move and take care of myself to minimize pain. A treasured takeaway: the better shape I’m in, the less pain I have. To this day, although I relish a sweat sesh, I wouldn’t be as consistent with workouts, if I hadn’t been in so much pain. I also wouldn’t be extremely thankful I can work out at all, if there wasn’t a time when I couldn’t.
Pain stalked me from the end of high school, throughout college and into my mid-twenties. I thought my mirthless companion got the best of me then, but thank God, I was very wrong. Pain isn’t the end to my story.
Coming soon – don’t miss out on Part 3 of An Unlikely Mrs.: The Mirage of Independence.
