Priorities

When I first started to understand that my pain was going to be an ongoing and somewhat debilitating problem, I had to do a lot of emotional gymnastics to learn to cope.  I am naturally rather pessimistic, so the road has been long, challenging, and mostly depressing.  But I have gleaned a couple of nuggets of wisdom out of the last few years, one of which is that when energy is scarce, it’s ok to do less so that I can have a fuller experience in the few things I do.

Excerpt from my Pain Diary from last year.

As I thought about the fatigue, discouragement and lethargy that plagued me, I realized that physical and emotional energy were probably going to be scarce commodities in my life for years to come, and that I needed to figure out how to use them wisely.  Once I came to this conclusion, it was time to consider how I spent my time and energy and to begin to prioritize. 

Some things are necessary.  I need to eat.  I need to rest.  I’m in good enough shape to work, so I need a job.  At the end of the day, how much energy do I have left for housework, cooking, or socializing?  On weekends what kinds of activities are essential, and which ones should I pass up?  When is it ok to turn down invitations?  When is it better to push myself through pain to enjoy a party?  When should I ask for help with simple things?   How can I change the way I do necessary tasks so that they don’t wear me out so much?

Clearly the answers to these questions change from week to week, month to month, so my goal isn’t really to have solid answers to each one.  Mostly, it’s been important for me to know that it’s ok to ask them. 

Here’s a cursory list of some things I’ve come up with to help me live within my limitations:

·      I cook large quantities of food that can be frozen in small batches so that I’ll have something to eat on days when I don’t have energy to cook.

·      I get plenty of sleep and guard my sleep time like it’s my firstborn.  (That’s why I often turn down invitations that involve hanging out starting after 8pm.)

·      When making social plans, I think through the kind of time and physical discomfort I might be committing to.  A one-hour hike is doable.  A day at a carnival is probably out of the question.

·      I try to disperse household tasks throughout the week so that I don’t provoke too much pain while cleaning.  This also helps to make the upkeep of my tiny apartment a less daunting burden. 

·      I also live in a small apartment, so that there’s less space to keep clean.

·      Sometimes, I ask for help with simple things.  Once in a while a friend will fix food for me or help me clean my house.  This kills two birds with one stone, since I get to socialize as well.

·      There are definitely times when I opt for the more painful activities because I know they’re important.  Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and go to a wedding, or a birthday party, or spend a day at a museum because you know it’s important to your friend, and you’ll regret not having gone.  Sure it’ll be painful while it lasts, but most of the time it’s not the pain you remember in the years to come. 

As I pay attention to these kinds of things, I find I can manage my activities in a way that enables me to live within the limitations that chronic pain sets on me as well as getting more enjoyment out of what I spend my time and energy doing.  It’s still a learning process, and will probably continue to evolve.