I ache.  Everyday, I ache.  I’m sore all the time, everywhere.  My legs hurt.  Hurts to walk. Hurts to sit. Hurts to stand.  My shoulders hurt at times – sometimes to the point where I cannot even brush my own hair or lift my arms overhead.  My stomach aches.  I am constantly in a state of “pain,” it’s mostly acute, but it’s so often that it could be chronic. Listening to me, I sound like an old lady with a bunch of aches and pains.  Just me reading this description makes me think of an old lady with chronic ailments, and I laugh.  I’m talking about myself though.  I relish in my body’s soreness.  I would only rate my stiffness and soreness a 1-2 on a 0-10 pain scale.  I don’t complain about how slow I move because I am moving, and in reality, I don’t move slow at all.

I am a nurse.  I’ve seen and cared for people who come into the ER with complaints of “chronic pain.”  It’s mostly women who come in, late 20’s, early 30’s or 40’s, who have generalized body pain, tenderness to their joints, muscles, tendons, and what not.  These women always have chronic body aches and stiffness, and most times they also have chronic migraine headaches, and even depression. It’s so bad at times for these women that they are not able to function – they can’t take care of their families, nor can they go to work, and at times cannot even take care of themselves.  It’s so sad to watch these women come into the ER accompanied by their young children who appear to be taking care of their mother.  That’s the hardest part for me.

Here is what I can tell you though … The women that I have been taking care of, who come into the ER ALL THE TIME, we call them “frequent flyers,” “repeaters,” and other things like that.  I can tell you that these women are getting younger, and YOUNGER … Seriously, the youngest I have cared for so far has been 15 years old.  FIFTEEN!!!  These women know how to put up a very LOUD fuss – at times sounding like a cross between a laboring or actively dying cow, and I don’t know what.  They’re allergic to every medication except for certain “special” narcotics and anti-emetics.  And it’s sad.  Sad because we in the medical profession know that there is a diagnosis that Doctors give to their patients when they don’t know what the fuck is wrong with them!  It’s a joke to us.  Seriously, it’s a bullshit diagnosis.  Don’t get me wrong, there may well be something “wrong” with these patients, however, we just don’t know what it is. It drives me beyond crazy to medicate these individuals with some hardcore narcotics.  There is NO medication in the world that can cure these individuals.  Some of these women demand, DEMAND narcotic doses that would kill a horse!

Now … Let me tell you about me … I am a 40 something year old woman who is always in some kind of pain.  Seriously, not a day has gone by since the day that I was born that I can remember waking up completely pain free.  Well, okay, maybe since I was in 4th grade, not since birth. I am an athlete and everyday some part of my body aches.  My shoulders from doing shoulder presses.  My chest from push-ups.  My glutes and hammies from squats, squats, and even more squats.  My legs in general from running.  I have had really bad plantar fascitis so my feet hurt or ache.

There are days when I cringe to just even brush my hair or teeth, or walk slower than normal and look “funny” doing so.  Some days it hurts to sit, or hurts to stand.  Something – always something.  But what do I do about these aches and pains? Nothing.  99% of the time, I do nothing.  Okay, okay … I use a lot of ice and Biofreeze or Ben Gay.  On a rare occasion, I will take a Tylenol or a couple Motrins.  But most days, I do NOTHING … I suck it up and keep moving.  I still take care of my family.  I still go to work. And … AND I still go and workout, regardless.  I will workout thru pain.  I push my little body quite hard.  I push it so hard and expect so much from it.  I am seriously thankful that my little body can take quite a beatin’ and continue to support me everyday.  My little body is STRONG!  It’s rewards? Well, now instead of doughy, sugary treats such as a donut or cake that I would really enjoy … I remind my little body that it’s rewards are the thighs that don’t rub together to try and start a fire, or the shoulders that are shapely, the calves that are TDF (to die for), and a body that’s going to last me for a very LONG time.  I remind my body that it is healthy and strong, much healthier and stronger than so many young people.  I remind my body that it is rewarded with an occasional massage, monthly Chiropractic visits to my

favorite Chiropractor, and weekly visits to my Accupuncturist. I live with “chronic” pain – mostly in the form of Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS), and minor annoying injuries.  It’s all in my head.  All of it.  I do this to myself.  I do it because I like this kind of self-torture.  I love the feeling that my muscles are sore and tore up.  I do it because it actually makes me feel alive. Call me a masochist, it’s okay.

So … I guess if I whined enough, I could sound like a woman with “chronic pain syndrome.” I have some empathy for these women.  I know it’s not fair or even nice to compare myself with someone who is “sick” when here I am with my crazy aches and pains.  I mean, I would not know what to do with myself if I physically were debilitated to the point where I could not workout, or move, or do anything except lay there.  I would fall into a deep depression.  I would feel somewhat suicidal.  I would feel sick – possibly so sick that it would cause me to be even sicker.  I workout as an outlet for myself.  I workout to keep my body in good condition.  I workout to look good, feel good, to be able to eat what I wish.  I do not wish sickness or disease on anyone … I sometimes wonder how these women got to the point where they can no longer function.  They cringe at me when I suggest exercise to help them, and they literally cringe and balk at the mere suggestion of a short walk.  It’s quite amusing and very frustrating at the same time because I feel as if I’m wasting my breath as they seem to like their life as it is.  They must be getting something from it.  It’s as if they have given up on themselves and  on life in general.  I refuse to be one of those people. I would never wish this painful life on anyone, ever.

I really have no words of wisdom for anyone.  I was just sitting here in an ER full of patients whose complaints were “Generalized All Over Body Aches” when I was aching and could barely move without cringing myself.  Then I thanked God that I was achy, that I could feel, that I had feeling in my limbs, that I could run, jump, lift, push, pull, punch, kick … because it means that I am alive and moving. Here’s my prescription for you …

**It’s not my intent to hurt anyone’s feeling, or to demean anyone because of their chronic pain.  I truly do have empathy for people, and as I said, I would never, NEVER wish this on anyone.  In all seriousness, I do understand, and I do only wish health and happiness for all of my patients. If I have offended you, I apologize wholeheartedly.**

Twenty two years ago, I was a young college graduate, not really “just” starting my life, but moving forward onto bigger and better things. I was about to deliver my first child, a child for which I had prayed and longed for for as long as I could remember.  I was excited and happy and ready.  I had waited for what seemed my whole life for this event, and I knew that it would be of epic proportions.  Little did I know what life and God had in store for me!

My Samuel came into this world, wide-eyed and ready to go.  He was always one to do things early – talking at 6 months, walking at 9 months, speaking in full sentences by the time he was one.  I knew … I knew that he was smarter than the average child, and I’m not saying that just because I am his mother and I’m biased, I write the truth.  He could write his full name by the time he started preschool.  He took things apart, and could put them back together.  He could ride a two wheeled bike with no training wheels by the time he was three.  Always running, always going, always talking, asking questions, but always ready to settle down and be held and read to him.  We read a lot together.  By the time he was six, he was reading series of books, Goosebumps, to name one. Barnes and Noble was our second home, and still is to this day.

He had a wild imagination. Always making things up, sometimes in life also, getting himself into some mischief. But he was always a good boy.  ALWAYS.  Model student, straight A’s, in the band, swim team, water polo.  I never had to bug him to do his homework, it was always done.

From the time he was a small child, it was always drilled into his head that he would go to college – no ifs, ands or buts … He would go, but he never questioned it, he just knew that he would go, and he wanted to go.  He graduated from high school with an outrageous GPA or 4.85, at the top 5% of his class, and was accepted to several colleges, but chose Fresno State because his friends had also chosen this school.

His college years were, in his words, fairly easy.  Much easier then the rigorous International Baccalaurate (IB) that he was enrolled in during high school.  He chose Journalism as his major, no surprise here as he is an excellent writer, and Japanese as his minor.  He continued to get good grades, got the internships that he needed in his chosen field of study.  He worked his junior and senior year for the Medonta Paper, then the Fresno Bee, and the college paper.

I’m not sure how it happened though.  All I know is that I received a text message from him one day asking to borrow some money to purchase his cap and gown?!?  Oh my God!  I’m not sure when exactly he was set to graduate from college.  COLLEGE? Really? When did this happen? This was for real! I mean, I knew that it would happen someday, just not so quickly.  I had to think quickly.  I had to get into the right mindset, you know, the mindset of a mother who is about to have a child graduate from COLLEGE!!!  What the heck?

His graduation from high school didn’t bother me as I knew that he would still be dependent on me, that we would still be connected, still be my “baby.” This was BIG though … COLLEGE! Wow! This would be the event that would cut the apron string that connects us, although I know that he will always need me, this would be the event that would make him into a “man.”  And just this thought, brought tears to my eyes that rarely sheds them.  This event that would be a happy, exciting event, would tug at my heartstrings, and cause me to wonder if I did a good enough job with him, for him?

At the Mass Media and Communications Commencement on Friday, he was awarded the Outstanding Print Journalism Student Award.  His professor, Dr. Rice, gave an excellent speech about how he has grown as a student of journalism. It was an amazing feeling to know that someone has watched over him during his time at Fresno State, and watched him grow as a person into his chosen field of study.  I felt very proud of my child, who has worked so hard to achieve all that he has.

Where did the time go though? It seems like just yesterday, I was pregnant with this rambunctious little boy. It seems like just yesterday I had delivered him into the world and held onto him for as long as I could, rocking him to sleep every night.  It seems like just yesterday that I read him countless numbers of books before bedtime.  It seems like just yesterday that we shared our love for the Harry Potter series and would have to buy two of each book that came out because we both wanted to read them at the same time and were not willing to wait!  I grew up with him.  He was my buddy, my first born, the one person I have loved the LONGEST in my life.  And here he was … graduating from COLLEGE trying to make his Mama cry!!!

Unbelieveable!  But … I kid …

I am extremely, EXTREMELY proud of my child.  He has brought me nothing except joy in my life, and it has been such an honor to be his mother.  It has been a pleasure to watch him grow from a small infant into a smart, confident, handsome young man.

Writing this blog post reminds me so much of the book Love You Forever by Robert Munsch that we read together over and over and over for years.  The lines, “I’ll love you forever.  I’ll like you for always.  As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” ring true and close to my heart as I remember holding my baby close reading that book to him.

As he moves forward and starts into the next phase of his life, it is somewhat bittersweet to know that he’s gotten older when I only wished for him to stay a small child so I could continue to hold his hand.  I wish him much happiness.  I pray for his continued success.  I look forward to see what the future holds for my baby boy.  God please continue to shine down on my son.  Watch over him, protect him, keep him safe.  May he always know that I love him dearly and would do anything for him.  May he always know that I will always provide him with a soft place to fall.  May he always know that I did the best that I knew how for him with what I had.

Thank you, God, for blessing me with this incredible child.  Thank you for trusting me enough to be his mother.  And to my Samuel … I will always, ALWAYS love you, son.  Always.