56. Pain

Pain is the ultimate nemesis.  You can do all of your work, cleanse yourself of judgment and embrace your personality.  Live.  Love.  Be the entirety of life’s calling.  And still pain will bring you to the edge, test you, then test you again.

I actually don’t have any real restrictions, any drug limits.  That comes with the title Stage 4, Inoperable, Terminal, But the world doesn’t comprehend the shadow walkers.  The fully living have a very hard time embracing the “dying”.  We are capable of walking the veil, living in neither world more than living in both.

The Wednesday after emergency surgery, there was pain.  A lot of pain.  I believe the theory of the hospital may have been that I MUST come off the IV narcotics for my transition to home.  And that the process was quick and brutal.  (And unnecessary.  Sigh.  In retrospect, I did not contact the Palliative Care Team to advocate for me.  An extra day or two in the hospital, less drama and more chemical relief, was probably a phone call away.  Hindsight, 20/20.)

I did not lash out, yell, or act socially unrecognizable.  I sat still and helpless, gray, unmoving, looking out through eyes that had no kindness left to give. No walking, no mental compensation. My voice was gone.  My words were gone.

People live like this.  People in this state are not alive.

Author: Michele Plumb Stowell

Michele Stowell was a teacher, a hand holder, and encouraging voice. Born an early Gen Xer, she has lived in Western Washington for the duration. Her children, two spectacular genetic daughters and an uncountable number of marvelous scout and school sons and daughters, shine as her biggest impact and her greatest blessing. Just before her 54th birthday, Michele was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Her writing and art work are expressions of the drama and the joy of living earth bound. On October 24, 2021, Michele was released from her physical body, transported to continue her work on other realms. View all posts by Michele Plumb Stowell