Pain and Real Pain

This week I’ll have one, measly molar pulled out.  I’ve been fretting about it.  My imagined confrontation with pain has taken up more time and energy than necessary, I’m embarrassed to say.

My cousin, Mark Ahlich, has gone through horrific pain in the last few months.  He’s battling cancer in the mouth-jaw area.  Just thinking about the continued surgeries and treatments he’s had to go through makes me wince.  Thinking about the tremendous pain and recovery he has to get through, daily.  

My Cousin, Mark

Something clicked in my mind.  Feelings of compassion and empathy for Mark.  They helped me to take stock of the value of my quality of life.  

Mark lives day to day hanging onto doctor recommendations.  He's suffering pain from surgeries, depending on others for help and undergoing treatments.  

I can’t imagine the emotional energy Mark has to use, to keep positive.  The will to separate one part of his day from the other in order to push through the ups and downs.

Mark at Summer Family Reunion in St. Ignace

Thinking about Mark helps for me to get a more realistic perspective.  It forces me not be caught up in my own small world. 

Mark’s Reality                                                                                        My Reality

Surgery recovery                                                             Bumping my coffee and spilling it

Chemotherapy                                                                  Missing an expected call

Constant pain management                                          Irritation from advertisements

Getting radiation treatments                                        Car splashing slush up on me 

Dependency on friends and family                            My basket of dirty clothes 

Hospital stays                                                                   Daylight-saving Time

I could go on, but it only shows how truly insignificant my worries are, compared to Mark’s dire needs.  It helps me see the need to assess what is genuine in my life and what is not. 

I wish I could could put the compassion I’m feeling for Mark, on one of these fluffy, white clouds passing by, this morning.  I wish they could float down to Lousianna and give Mark some relief from his suffering.  If only for a minute. 

The minute it takes to worry about the dishes in my sink.  The minute it takes to check on an on-line bill.  The minute it takes to floss my teeth.

Cousins With Mark