Who's the GOOF and why and how are we thwarting him? Well, it all has to do with pain being a pain in the you-know-what. And if we can thwart pain - well then the world is a better place, isn't it? So, here's my contribution to a better world…
There are three phases of pain in my books - four if you count the absence of pain, but I don't. Neither do I count the paper-cut version of pain for the purpose of this discussion - that's an annoyance or discomfort. I'm only talking about the kind of pain you may have in the recovery process as a result of a trauma or severe illness. In my experience, naming something makes it seem to have less power over you - that's how we thwart it. And the GOOF part? Well, stay tuned. In the mean time, do any of my self-proclaimed categories (below) seem familiar to you?
Phase I: Pep Talk Pain
This is the "Ug this really hurts" kind of pain. In most recovery situations - including the recovery stage for caregivers, some pain is to be expected. This phase of pain is reflective of the moments in the day to day recovery that are harder than others, but not unbearable. You know - the days you convince yourself to do those physical therapy exercises even though they hurt like crazy. Or, the times you carry little Johnny with his 2 leg casts on - he's not all that heavy, but the casts make carrying him awkward. Little Johnny seems to be 20 pounds heavier and you wish you could avoid it, but he needs you - so you suck it up and get it done.
That's the kind of pain in phase I. And we thwart it by pushing through it using - you guessed it - pep talks. How do you give yourself a pep talk? Well, in this case, remind yourself it's not forever - or that it won't be that bad, or that whatever you are doing is worth the pain. Remind yourself how far you've come; you've likely been in hospital, and so you've come far and conquered much to simply come home. Or, perhaps you can stand for 3 minutes this week, but a month ago it was 20 seconds. Whatever the scenario, if you don't already give yourself pep talks, then consider doing so. You might have to repeat the talk a few times, but eventually you drag yourself to do whatever "it" is, content that it's worth it.
That's the kind of pain in phase I. And we thwart it by pushing through it using - you guessed it - pep talks. How do you give yourself a pep talk? Well, in this case, remind yourself it's not forever - or that it won't be that bad, or that whatever you are doing is worth the pain. Remind yourself how far you've come; you've likely been in hospital, and so you've come far and conquered much to simply come home. Or, perhaps you can stand for 3 minutes this week, but a month ago it was 20 seconds. Whatever the scenario, if you don't already give yourself pep talks, then consider doing so. You might have to repeat the talk a few times, but eventually you drag yourself to do whatever "it" is, content that it's worth it.
Phase II: The Cut it Out Pain
Phase two pain makes you say "Cut it out already!" to the pain fairy. Yep, I said pain fairy. Do fairies only bring you good things? I think so. So instead, lets call him the Gobblinesque-Opposite-Of-Fairy pain fairy aka the big GOOF for short.
The big goof is the most annoying visitor you've ever had. He moves in without permission, and it feels like he'll never leave. He's the kind of guest that only leaves one square of toilet paper for you, he is obstinant (he certainly won't obey your wishes), he's arrogant (and why not, he flaunts his strength because he can), he is life sucking, and exhausting on every level. The clincher? He's irritating and seemingly powerful, and if you don't manage him well, he has the potential to affect just about everything. The big GOOF!
So how do we manage the Goof? How do we thwart him? Well, how do you train a dog not to pee in the house? You do as much preventatively as you can. In this case that means trying to go to bed consistently at a decent time (sleep helps with coping), and working hard at recovery (eg. doing your physical exercises). You also have to consciously work at balancing recovery with your ever changing physical and emotional limits, as exceeding them will put you behind even further. What else do we do to make sure the dog learns to pee outside? We change our tactics if the training isn't going well. With recovery pain, if the medication is working but side effects are worse than the original entity that they're treating - we speak to the doctor and see if there is another option. Or we tell any applicable practitioner that we're working hard what they asked us to, but with no change. Changing tactics isn't something we have to manage ourselves, and you are going to find the practitioners thanking you, not being upset with you under the circumstances.
Of course there are more ways of thwarting the GOOF than above, but you get the gist So, I'll only say one last thing about thwarting the GOOF in phase II; we need to get very very stern with him consistently. You wouldn't make a point of letting the dog pee in the house because you don't feel like getting up to let her out. If you did, you'd not get very far with training (and your house wouldn't smell so good either). So, if you want progress in thwarting the GOOF, you have to consistently tell him to Cut it Out!, and then go about the business of making him cut it out by putting the above into practice. It's not going to miraculously learn to go away on it's own any more than the dog will decide it doesn't want to pee inside anymore. It's up to you!
One last thing, barring all of the above, sometimes doing something to distract yourself from the pain can be helpful. I actually, yes, truly literally - cut things out. I love making cards, and so I print off little bits from a scrapbook program and keep them in an easy to grab place. Then, if pain is greater than phase I, but less than phase III, I cut the little bibs and bobs for future use. Doing such a thing doesn't make the pain go away, but it's a great distraction from the intensity of it. So, maybe consider cutting it out - literally or figuratively, or both!
The big goof is the most annoying visitor you've ever had. He moves in without permission, and it feels like he'll never leave. He's the kind of guest that only leaves one square of toilet paper for you, he is obstinant (he certainly won't obey your wishes), he's arrogant (and why not, he flaunts his strength because he can), he is life sucking, and exhausting on every level. The clincher? He's irritating and seemingly powerful, and if you don't manage him well, he has the potential to affect just about everything. The big GOOF!
So how do we manage the Goof? How do we thwart him? Well, how do you train a dog not to pee in the house? You do as much preventatively as you can. In this case that means trying to go to bed consistently at a decent time (sleep helps with coping), and working hard at recovery (eg. doing your physical exercises). You also have to consciously work at balancing recovery with your ever changing physical and emotional limits, as exceeding them will put you behind even further. What else do we do to make sure the dog learns to pee outside? We change our tactics if the training isn't going well. With recovery pain, if the medication is working but side effects are worse than the original entity that they're treating - we speak to the doctor and see if there is another option. Or we tell any applicable practitioner that we're working hard what they asked us to, but with no change. Changing tactics isn't something we have to manage ourselves, and you are going to find the practitioners thanking you, not being upset with you under the circumstances.
Of course there are more ways of thwarting the GOOF than above, but you get the gist So, I'll only say one last thing about thwarting the GOOF in phase II; we need to get very very stern with him consistently. You wouldn't make a point of letting the dog pee in the house because you don't feel like getting up to let her out. If you did, you'd not get very far with training (and your house wouldn't smell so good either). So, if you want progress in thwarting the GOOF, you have to consistently tell him to Cut it Out!, and then go about the business of making him cut it out by putting the above into practice. It's not going to miraculously learn to go away on it's own any more than the dog will decide it doesn't want to pee inside anymore. It's up to you!
One last thing, barring all of the above, sometimes doing something to distract yourself from the pain can be helpful. I actually, yes, truly literally - cut things out. I love making cards, and so I print off little bits from a scrapbook program and keep them in an easy to grab place. Then, if pain is greater than phase I, but less than phase III, I cut the little bibs and bobs for future use. Doing such a thing doesn't make the pain go away, but it's a great distraction from the intensity of it. So, maybe consider cutting it out - literally or figuratively, or both!
Phase III: The On - and Off - Your Rocker Pain
This phase reflects the mind-bending ability of pain. The "On your rocker" part is more of a literal description. Although you're not rocking on (that would be a great twist), you are simply rocking. It refers to the fetal position you find yourself in, while you rock yourself back and forth because the pain is way too intense to do anything but that. The "Off your rocker" part describes being in a state of such excruciating pain that it drives you nuts (aka off your rocker), and if it doesn't, it makes you wish that it actually would. As an aside I must ask how the "She's off her rocker" phrase came to mean that one was losing their mind - it makes absolutely no sense to me.
How do we thwart the phase III GOOF? By getting the appropriate treatment. This kind of pain is best managed by a physician or a nursing team, and sometimes in the emergency room. Medals are not handed out for suffering through pain, so don't feel like you have to suck it up. Just because something shouldn't hurt, doesn't mean that it isn't hurting, so speak up. Now, I know that after all you've been through the absolute last place you want to be is back to hospital, and believe me - I get that. But, know that consulting with a physician or your nursing team doesn't necessarily mean they will send you to hospital. Either way it's worth it; you will recover better and faster if you take the measures you need to in order to be in less pain. Imagine how much energy you'd have if it wasn't being eaten up with mind-bending pain!
So, there you have it. If you think I am crazy for naming the phases, I'm okay with that. To each his own, and if you have other strategies that work, hooray! I'd just like to say one last benefit of naming the phases: communication. Those around you may respond differently in most situations if they know which stage your in. Maybe loved ones will help by joining in the pep talk, or ask you to hang out when they otherwise wouldn't - fearing you'd be in too much pain - but you were only in the pep talk phase of pain. You never know. What I do know is joy is possible even though none of the three phases of pain seem to promote it. . It's sometimes harder to fight an enemy you can't see, but I find that naming it takes some of it's power away. Joy is worth fighting for - so lets fight the big GOOF for it! We shall conquer….
Happy GOOFing off!
How do we thwart the phase III GOOF? By getting the appropriate treatment. This kind of pain is best managed by a physician or a nursing team, and sometimes in the emergency room. Medals are not handed out for suffering through pain, so don't feel like you have to suck it up. Just because something shouldn't hurt, doesn't mean that it isn't hurting, so speak up. Now, I know that after all you've been through the absolute last place you want to be is back to hospital, and believe me - I get that. But, know that consulting with a physician or your nursing team doesn't necessarily mean they will send you to hospital. Either way it's worth it; you will recover better and faster if you take the measures you need to in order to be in less pain. Imagine how much energy you'd have if it wasn't being eaten up with mind-bending pain!
So, there you have it. If you think I am crazy for naming the phases, I'm okay with that. To each his own, and if you have other strategies that work, hooray! I'd just like to say one last benefit of naming the phases: communication. Those around you may respond differently in most situations if they know which stage your in. Maybe loved ones will help by joining in the pep talk, or ask you to hang out when they otherwise wouldn't - fearing you'd be in too much pain - but you were only in the pep talk phase of pain. You never know. What I do know is joy is possible even though none of the three phases of pain seem to promote it. . It's sometimes harder to fight an enemy you can't see, but I find that naming it takes some of it's power away. Joy is worth fighting for - so lets fight the big GOOF for it! We shall conquer….
Happy GOOFing off!
I love this post! Sounds like GOOF and Anxiety are buddies - coming in uninvited, wrecking the place... Maybe they met in prison.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny how we're taught to tough it out all the time. When do we draw the line between Phase II and Phase III? Sometimes it takes someone else telling us to listen to our bodies to make us stop pushing through (cause even when Rocking we're still trying to "rock it" if you know what I mean...)
Hmmm. Wonder if GOOF-Off works? That nice citrus-y scent and all... ; )