The Enigma of Pain

What is pain? Well, according to the fifth edition of Oxford’s Advanced Learner’s Dictionary it is the physical discomfort caused by injury or illness.
I would disagree. Mainly because you cannot explain pain by words. It’s nearly impossible. The only reason why any of us could understand pain is because we had had firsthand experience of it, one way or another. When someone asks you, “What is pain?”, then the only way I find to answer is to slap him across the face and tell him, “That’s pain”. But if you’re talking about pain caused by heartbreaks then that’s a whole different story.

Like everybody else, I have come to experience pain since as long as I can remember. During my adolescent years, the worst injuries I had always happened when I went out on a ride with my beloved bicycle. I would trotter all around the neighbourhood every evening to explore and naturally, mishaps would occasionally happen and I would came trudging home with blood trickling down my knees. But one sadistic tale that I remembered most was when I had this horrendous fall from my two-wheeled carriage, slid across the road and I charred up my left knee so bad that the wound was so deep that I was left in a state of shock initially. About a half an hour later, the pain set in and my goodness wasn't it excruciating. It still tingles my spine every time I think about it.

During my teen years it was a different story. My injuries were caused by others. Bad people, naturally. Enrolled in an all-boys residential school you cannot escape the possibility of getting “disciplined” once in a while during your junior years. I was no exception. I was slapped, punched, shoved, kicked and hit by every imaginable objects from pails to hockey sticks to spoons. But my worst injury during that ‘golden era’ was when I had a broken left clavicle, or more popularly known as the collar-bone. Broken. Not a fracture, because that would mean that the bone just cracked but this, oh no, it was split into two. The X-ray image showed the two edged ends were on top of one another. People have said that a broken clavicle is the worst of its kind because it is sort of a connector in the human skeletal and every time you move any part of your upper body, it will sting. And it was more than just a sting. I was lying on the hospital bed and it hurts every time I turn my head, scratch an itch, adjust my position and even yawn. The only thing I did do that did not cause any pain was when I move my pinky.

Even though the surgical mark is still there reminding me everyday the experience that I had to endure, I was glad it was over and I hope never to experience such painful tenacity ever again. Well, my hopes were dashed.

Talk about divine intervention, I was doing my Maghrib prayers last Tuesday and a sudden discomfort just jolted out of nowhere in my right toe. I didn’t give it much thought because that was just it, a discomfort. Not something very unusual.

But as time ticked away into the night the pain still persists. And after slugging a few hours in front of the computer finishing my assignment, I decided to get myself a drink. To my astonishment I find myself unable to walk properly because the pain had apparently grown. “I probably pulled something quite serious down there,” or so I thought. I tried to rub some ointment but it had little effect. I tried to sleep on it but I woke up the next morning with the same amount of pain. “Ah, I’m sure it’ll shake off by the end of the day,” that's my ignorance talking. Sure enough, by the end of the day, it was still there, and it was getting worse. My daily commute took longer than usual because I had to walk slower and eventfully, I was a few minutes late to class. Ever so, every time I apply the minimal amount of pressure to my right foot, pain will shoot up and I would be clenching my teeth.

When I find myself bracing for the journey from the LRT station to my parked car, I knew something was terribly wrong and I need to consult a physician. When I got home, my father couldn’t agree more. But when my mother got home, she got this to say,
“It could be gout,”
“Wha-?” was all I could reply.
You see, gout is, well let me paste something…

What Is Gout?
Gout is one of the most painful forms of arthritis. It occurs when too much uric acid builds up in the body. The buildup of uric acid can lead to:
· Sharp uric acid crystal deposits in joints, often in the big toe (sounds familiar?)
· Deposits of uric acid (called tophi) that look like lumps under the skin
· Kidney stones from uric acid crystals in the kidneys.
For many people, the first attack of gout occurs in the big toe. Often, the attack wakes a person from sleep. The toe is very sore, red, warm, and swollen (you can say that again).
Gout can cause:
· Pain
· Swelling
· Redness
· Heat
· Stiffness in joints.
In addition to the big toe, gout can affect the:
· Instep
· Ankles
· Heels
· Knees
· Wrists
· Fingers
· Elbows.
A gout attack can be brought on by stressful events, alcohol or drugs, or another illness. Early attacks usually get better within 3 to 10 days, even without treatment. The next attack may not occur for months or even years.

So, chances are I got gout. It’s serious and it’s downright painful. Even after visiting the doctor, it still couldn’t be 100% confirmed because I needed a blood test to be definite. And the results are due tomorrow. In the meantime, however, I did receive some medication but until the effect of those drugs set in, I was still in pain. At one point I even found it amusing because the amount of pain was truly tremendous and unbearable. My toe was throbbing, and in the physical sense too. Even when stationary, I could see my toe twitch, in rhythmic motion in line with my heartbeat and it the pain moves up a notch every time it does so. It was not only grimacing but also annoying, particularly because I had been enduring it for the whole day. Try holding out for constant pain for nearly 12 hours. It’s devastating I tell you. The only thing that could be worse than this would be giving birth.

As a result of this I am conditionally under ‘house-arrest’. All because of my toe. Funny isn’t it? Well, not as funny when one of the elderly nurses at the clinic made a cruel joke out of me. “Ni kena pakai tongkat ni,” after noting my inability to walk properly. Haha very funny you little prune faced twat! If I had been slightly more mobile then I would have smacked her face and flung her across the room.

All I can do now is wait to recover. Strange thing is my daily classes are over and so my days are practically free. I was planning to see War of the Worlds but no, that’s not even possible. Because of the painkillers which I now couldn’t possibly live out with, nearly half of my right foot is constantly numb. I’m not sure if I could press the brake pedal fast enough should I choose to drive myself anywhere.

Not only that, I know have to precautionary steps concerning my food intake. Basically no stuff containing purines such as liver, beans, anchovies and, oh, the occasional seafood. I still could eat fish though not the canned ones like sardine. But a definite no-no for prawns, squids (or calamari as some fashionable people tend to call it) and particularly oysters. That’s right people, it’s heartbreaking. Taking seafood away from me is like taking away chocolates from a 5 year old. I wouldn’t eat it nor desire it every day but when I do get a chance, I’ll make pretty damn sure that I enjoy myself.

So, now I couldn’t get out of the house and I have to go on a diet. That sounds so crappy doesn’t it? It is so crappy that I had the spent the entire day today watching Desperate Housewives. A puddle was actually developing when I learnt that Bree had lost her husband. I was that pathetic. I even had to say ‘no’ to the usual Friday night hang out with the boys. I am so displeased. This might be what Aritha must’ve felt when she hurt her foot a while ago. It feels so rotten. Maybe I’ll write a sonnet about it one day. It will be grief, dark and titled, ‘Le Toe’.

Well, well, good news after all. I am going out this Friday night after all. Cheerio…