Speaking of Pain

A bit over two years ago, I wrote a piece titled “Seriously Doc?!.” It was my take on modern medicine’s way of assessing pain or having a patient assess pain. Yes, I am speaking of that tired old question, “On a scale of one to ten, what is your level of pain?” If you want to know why that makes me a bit crazy, you’ll need to read at least part of “Seriously Doc?!

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, what level is your pain at the moment?”

And why you ask am I bringing up a two-year-old post dealing with a two-year-old incident? Well, I found out recently there are times when you do not need to answer that question. One of course is when you are unconscious or worse, and you cannot answer the question.

Another way to avoid the question is when the decibel level at which you are groaning, gasping, or screaming makes the question redundant. I found that one out the hard way, on the morning of January 20, 2022.

My little lesson on the shortcomings of pain management in the modern age started the evening of January 19 with some serious lower back pain. However, I was able to handle it with OTC pain meds and an OTC sleep aid. Unfortunately, when I awoke the next morning, all the OTC meds in the house couldn’t help me.

The little pain in my back now felt like I’d been headbutted by a Brahma Bull and tossed over the corral fence. Okay, I’ve never been tossed over a fence by a bull, but I had some pretty good shots from Welsh and English rugby players, who thought they’d teach us Americans a few lessons about how real rugby was played. The biggest difference between those pains and getting bucked by a bull I can imagine is that the rugby clubs always provided the beer needed to forget the trauma.

My first clue no one was going to ask about my pain level was when the ambulance team showed up. The lead paramedic took one look at me and started apologizing because he did not have any medication strong enough to completely relieve my pain. Watching his face every time the ambulance hit a bump helped me pass the time on the way to the hospital. Things got really interesting at the hospital, but that is a tale for another day.

So, why the sad tale of woe, without completing the story? Well, due to the distraction of this incident, my plans have been sidetracked a bit. I was in the middle of planning a new web/blog site when this problem arose. I have made some progress and managed to publish a few things, but my new venture has been seriously delayed.

With that said, I hope to have the new site up and running soon. It will focus on the things that try to stop us, you and me, from achieving our goals, completing our plans, and staying on the path set before us.

So, stay tuned as I complete my physical and mental rehabilitation. Hopefully, something here or in the future will help you Keep Knocking someday.

© oneoldcop.com – 2022

Images by Mahmud Shoeb and F. Muhammad at Pixabay

About S. Eric Jackson

See "About."
This entry was posted in Daily Life, Humor, Medicine, Verbal Communication and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply