(These three photographs are of Sunsets I have experienced, all in different locations, from the rather blighted neighbourhood in which I now live to the open seas and the Mediterranean.)
'Pain Management' is a fairly new concept but one that should have been implemented a century ago. It is the last stage of a journey that has seen only failure at every other stop for patients who cannot be 'fixed' with surgical procedures or through other means. It usually is reserved for individuals for whom there is no cure and thus will not be available until all other avenues have been exhausted.
Pain Management may have saved my life. I went through almost a year of hell before I was given a referral and the pain and frustration of countless unsuccessful procedures as well as medications to which I had negative reactions (sometimes terrifying) had pushed me to the brink of despair. If I had not had a child who depended upon me, I wonder if I could have maintained my hold upon sanity and life. As it was, I finally was sent to a Pain Management physician.
Pain Management offers the recognition of every human being's right to live without pain or at least the right to manage that pain so that it is not unendurable. It acknowledges that fact that pain is subjective and that every individual is different. One person may shrug off the pain that causes another to weep uncontrollably. Like Lawrence in one of my favourite films, I can snuff out a flame with my fingers without any problem but the pain that lurks constantly within my bones and crackles along my neural pathways in a never-ending journey can be unbearable. Part of the problem is the fact that my pain is not temporary but permanent.
At Pain Management, the physician's first statement threw me into despair, frankly. He told me, 'You have to come to terms with the fact that you probably will be in pain for the rest of your life.' I retorted, 'Thank you very much! That's precisely what I needed to hear!'
He then explained that it was because of this that I had been sent to him and that the purpose of Pain Management was to make it possible for me to lead a life as free from that pain as he could make it. Whether through medication, physical therapy or other procedures, the aim of Pain Management was enshrined in its name. Our job together was to 'manage' the pain that was my constant undesired companion. Instead of giving me false hope, he placed the facts before me and offered me the opportunity to make the best of a bad deal. It actually WAS precisely what I needed to hear, after countless false promises from physicians, surgeons and the manufacturers of medications that were more likely to kill or cause permanent damage than to cure.
Long ago, years before Pain Management, I wrote poems about Pain as my true consort, one who had forced himself upon me, who raped me again and again and finally forced me to accept him as one who would be closer to the jugular than any human lover or spouse ever could be. At that time, I did not realise that it was a prophecy. I had thought it a temporary situation that a surgical procedure or other solution might fix. As a girl who was introduced to severe cluster migraine headaches and terrible cramps at puberty, I was visited by pain at an early age. Even before that, so-called 'growing pains' in my legs, which sound laughable to some, were my fate as they are for many children who grow too quickly. I reached my ultimate height by the age of 10 and that accomplishment was negative for me in many ways, Not only was I taller than most of the boys I knew but I was in terrible pain much of the time. Nothing was done about that, nor about the rheumatic fever... ultimately one 'outgrew' both!
I never have liked running much but before I became disabled, I loved to walk. In my early teens, I would walk to the beach before dawn each day to watch the sun rise and, perched upon my favourite outcrop of rocks, write in my journal before walking to school. I always walked to and from school wherever I lived. Not for me any other transportation. It never was offered as an alternative but to be honest, except for some nasty early encounters on the old 'bridle path' that ran between one of our houses and the road that led to my school, I treasured those walks. I loved Nature and still do. The rising of the sun and birds, the fresh wind blowing from the ocean and even the early morning fog that often marked the first half of our day all delighted me. The nasty little boy who exposed himself on the bridle path repeatedly and probably now is President of a local Bank (have to Google that one!) was a small price to pay for the freedom of being able to walk a mile to school. (He actually was a schoolmate of mine but never a friend. His actions therefore were disgusting and rather shocking but not as awful as those of the little boy who peed on my sister and I from the roof of his house when I was six years old!)
When I lived in Nepal, I walked to the Temple at dawn to watch the worshippers make their offerings and sacrifices. When I lived in Southampton, I walked to University each day. When I lived in London, I explored the city on foot and I did the same in Manhattan. In particular, water and parks always attracted me. Wherever I lived, I would try to find a destination that offered me a chance of communion with the waters. In Manhattan, I walked to the East River almost daily as well as walking in the opposite direction to Central Park to visit 'my' Arctic Owl in the little old-fashioned Zoo there.
Not being able to walk properly has been almost as awful for me as the constant pain in which I live now. I miss it terribly. This has been a long, rambling preamble to the topic of 'virtual realities'. It is these 'virtual realities' that now provide me with a facsimile of the experience that my real daily rambles provided before I became disabled.
Many people in my real life are a little contemptuous of gaming and the concept of virtual realities. Whether it is 'serious' games or what is known as 'casual gaming', they fail to comprehend the attraction that games have for individuals in my position.
For me, it is another aspect of pain management but it can provide other positive effects for individuals who live in less than ideal circumstances. When one is accustomed to large rooms and beautiful surroundings, living in a tiny room without any view can be depressing. A farming simulation game can provide vistas that cannot be obtained otherwise at that stage in the individual's life. Those who are trying to 'kick' an undesirable habit, whether it is overeating or smoking, often find games to be a positive distraction, keeping them from another journey to the kitchen or another smoke.
I almost immediately equated games like FarmVille, Fantasy Kingdoms and Family Farm with the idea of the 'Zen Garden'. The repetitive acts of planting and harvesting are calming to the nerves and soothing to the spirit. Moreover, even if the crops and fruits one obtains exist only in a virtual world, the act is a positive one. One is interacting in a wholly positive fashion with the virtual Mother Goddess, Nature in all her glory and bounty. What is the difference between lighting a candle at the altar of Our Lady and the act of harvesting a field of beautiful roses and carnations? It is all in the heart of the individual who performs the act. For me, it is an act of homage, of reverence and worship. Whatever exists in farming simulation games is based upon something real. Art imitates Life and a farming simulation game imitates one of the earliest exchanges of humanity with Nature. It is the act of nurturing the land in order to share in its gifts. For me, it is as close as I can come most of the time to the experiences I had when I had unfettered mobility in my real life.
I love gardening but having moved frequently and having lived most of my adult life in large cities, I seldom had any opportunity to expeirence the joy of having a plot of land to tend. It was only when I left Manhattan that I had a chance to plant trees and flowers and watch them grow. Even after I became disabled, I struggled to maintain the garden until every one, including my physician, told me that it was counterproductive. My pain levels always increased radically after any activity of that sort and I finally realised I was torturing myself, despite the joy that any interaction with the soil brought me.
I planted a birch tree as well and marveled at its growth from a sapling to a strong, proud Goddess Tree. It was upon the Birch Tree that George the Dragonfly left little messages and gifts for Freya when she was a child and upon the Goddess Tree that we tied the Martisor charms we made for one another. Martisor was not a part of my own heritage but I believe in the universality of ancient festivals and rituals and it now has become a part of my own family's traditions.
I do not believe one should engage in virtual realities at the expense of real life but virtual realities can refuel the spirit and give one the energy one needs to confront unappealing or depressing facts. They can provide the courage needed to 'soldier on' as it were.
