Pain

"Pain" is also a: user

created by Aspirin
(idea) by datagirl (4.9 mon) (print)   (I like it!) 2 C!s Sun Jul 09 2000 at 1:51:49

A Story about Pain

There once were two people, locked in a prison called    life

One person got their pinky finger cut off in a freak accident.

The other person lost their whole hand.

There was nothing either of them could do about it because shit happens, and shit can happen to anyone.

If you ask the pinkyless prisoner, what hurt him more - his friend losing a hand, or him losing him pinky.. of course him losing his pinky has hurt him more, because it was his pinky finger! And with the other prisoner, vice versa.

Moral: No one else can truly feel your pain or understand it. Don't look for them to validate it for you.

This little analogy came to me while waiting at a stoplight. Although mostly written here to apply to emotional issues, using a physical issue seemed to get the point across more clearly. If this writeup bothers you for any reason other than my writing style/punctuation, I suggest you work out your issues. The concept seriously bothered me years ago, but now I know the real meaning of it. I am in no way implying here that there is no such thing as compassion, sympathy or empathy. Just that you can't experience being another person and feel what they feel in that exact situation, because you are not them and never will be... well, you could put on their shoes.. but your feet still aren't theirs. yep.
(idea) by {hojita} (3.3 y) (print)   (I like it!) 2 C!s Sat Jul 15 2000 at 15:09:28
"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." --Westley, from The Princess Bride
---
There are many different types of pain and some people can bear a lot more of each kind than others.

Many people also use self-inflicted pain (in what many deem is a bad way) as a cure for other pain. I went through a pretty bad period of depression. There were times when I had so much emotional pain that I almost writhed in a fury. I needed some touch with reality. For a while, I would take my pocketknife and cut myself...nothing big...just enough to make me FEEL something...anything, and give me a touch back down to reality and some control over my situation. I no longer do that, and don't have any scars to show, and I guess I'm lucky for that. (I've actually never told anybody that before.) For some people, physical pain is a way to control their lives. Although this is certainly not the long term healthiest solution, in the short term this pain provides a lot of relief.

Despite all of its negative connotations, it can also be very addicting. Long distance runners can get a "runner's high" from the lactic acid buildup in their muscles. Lastly there are also masochists, who for them, pain is pleasure. Perhaps they can just be lumped in with the long distance runners *grin*.

Although most people in our day and age go to great lengths to avoid pain (and pursue pleasure), pain can be a positive and transforming experience. I had my lip pierced about five weeks ago. It was certainly not my first piercing and it certainly hurt a bit. Yet, for me, it was an ecstatic and transforming ritual. Piercing is not just a trend for me. It wasn't at all for the shock value. I would imagine that other people yearn for this sort of transforming ritual. This kind of experience (of which pain is part but not all of) is the reason that many people get pierced or tattooed and immediately start wanting more. I also think that choice of that pain has a lot to do with tolerance regardless of the amount. If I get a piercing, it was my choice, and I don't mind the pain. If I get a small cold, or burn myself when lighting incense accidently, it's a lot harder for me to deal with and tolerate.
(idea) by klash (6 mon) (print)   (I like it!) Mon Nov 06 2000 at 4:58:56

Pain is life's reminder that we exist.

Painless expanses of time melt together into a non-descript state of reverie, supreme happiness a drug that dulls the senses, never restoring them until the happiness be smitten. The sensation of happiness is not unlike the feeling of dreaming a sweet dream, the covers separating one's body from the cold, harsh elements that lurk; but wherever they lurk it's far from here, we don't know them and we couldn't name them. Because they don't concern us.

What is commonly believed to be the test of whether a person is dreaming? Pain. The pinch that brings the subject back to reality, back in touch with the things they had forgotten about, the things they neglected in their intoxicating bliss. We are weak, vincible, mortal. We are bound to a frail system of tissue and fluids. We are subject to involuntary states of consciousness that we call feelings, at times unconquerable by the strongest will.

Yes, we definitely do exist, of this much I can be sure...

(idea) by Elrac (23 hr) (print)   (I like it!) 1 C! Tue Apr 16 2002 at 10:22:13

pain also happens to be the French word for "bread".

"So what," you say, and rightly so. Well, I'd like to relate a little experience that changed my attitude toward the French word to bread:

A friend and I were touring around in Germany, enjoying the (theoretically) limitless speed of the Autobahn. Suddenly, while passing a line of trucks, we found ourselves next to this humongous (by European standards) truck. All of the truck's main body was painted bright fire engine red. On each side, a single word was painted in huge white block letters more than half the height of the available space:

PAIN

My friend just kind of gave a little gasp, while I was mentally floored for some seconds. A goodly portion of my field of view was red. Red like fire, red like the devil, red like blood. In the midst of this, four letters representing what may be the most unpleasant of sensations. The brief but vivid associations this conjured up felt like being in a short story by Edgar Allan Poe.

OK OK, we both speak some French, and we eventually realized what the truck was about, and it checked out with the French license plates and all, but it sure felt kind of strange for a while. Some otherwise unknown bakery in France has made a lasting impression on me.

(thing) by paraclete (4.2 mon) (print)   (I like it!) 9 C!s Mon Sep 26 2005 at 22:24:53

At the beginning of my first ever neurology tutorial, the lecturer stood up and threw a question out to the class:

"What is pain?"

Several hands went tentatively into the air. Then were quickly withdrawn before the lecturer could point to them for an answer. The question is one of those that people think should be easy to answer, but on further reflection realise that it's not that easy. For most, the basic definition is that pain is the feeling or perception of irritating, sore, stinging, aching, throbbing, miserable or unbearable sensations arising from within the body. A neuroscientist would further classify pain as being the affective perception of nociceptive stimulation, and that it was not so much a sensation as a complex experience that is the product of interaction of various physical, mental and emotional components. Or, to put it a mite more simply, pain is both a physical reality and an abstract concept. Which isn't really an answer at all. So maybe there is no answer.

Function of Pain

What I do know is that pain is essential. Those who are born with an inability to feel pain, physical pain, tend to die young. This is because pain is instrumental in our navigation of the world. One woman born with this condition received intensive early training in order to recognise and avoid damaging situations. She died from sepsis aged 28, deformed and misshaped from degeneration of her joints. Why did this happen? Well, if you were to attempt to pull your finger back as far as it would go right now, you'd experience pain; this is your body's way of telling you not to do that because you're damaging yourself. Someone unable to feel pain could sit there doing this all day - till their finger snapped if they wanted. And they still wouldn't be able to feel pain. They'd burn themselves getting into a too hot bath. They'd get pressure sores while sleeping in bed because they're body is unable to sense that it needs to turn over. Pain is essential.

However, too much pain can be equally as damaging, as anyone with phantom limb pain or bone metastases can tell you. For these people, even high dose opoids bring little, if any, relief to their pain. Sometimes, people are so desperate to escape their physical pain they will consent to radical surgery to cut out nerves, nerve roots, and even parts of their brain. Tragically, this often makes little difference to their pain state. There is a large amount of money being ploughed into researching pain mechanisms; the reason for this is more than obvious.

Pain Perception

The term that describes the process by which the body is able to sense a painful stimulus is called nociception, (from the Latin 'nocere', to harm). The sensory cells that are activated by painful stimuli are called nociceptors, and there are several different classes of nociceptors, so, a chemical nociceptor will respond to substances such as histamine, a mechanical nociceptor will respond to pressure, and a thermal nociceptor will respond to an increase or decrease in temperature. There are two types of fibres that carry pain stimuli to spinal cord and brain. The fast ones are the Aδ fibres which are lightly myelinated. The C fibres are slower and unmyelinated. If you were to step on a sharp piece of glass, you'd have a sudden burst of localised pain that would cause you to quickly bring your foot off the floor to stop the pain caused by the glass cutting into your skin. This response is mediated by the Aδ fibres. After a few seconds, a dull pain will make itself apparent in the area where you have cut yourself. This is the response carried by the C fibres to remind you that you've cut your foot, and you should be a bit careful when using it while the wound is healing.

The body has yet to develop a piece of neural circuitry to force you to wear shoes at all times.

What happens to the stimuli transmitted by the nociceptive afferents upon reaching the spinal cord is a little more complicated. The information gets broken up and fed into both nerve tracts that lead to the brain and also sent into various spinal reflex arcs to facilitate non-conscious reactions - such as the sudden withdrawing of a finger away from a needle that you caught the sharp side of whilst sewing. The main tract that runs to the brain with nociceptive information is the spinothalamic tract, which runs to the thalamus of the brain, a small mass of grey matter at the base of the brain (from thalamos, the Latin for 'inner room', in turn derived from the Greek tholos, 'vault'). The thalamus is an amazing feat of biological engineering; the best analogy is to think of it as a telephone switchboard. A switchboard that is operated by the CEO of your brain. All sensory input (excluding only a part of the olfactory (smell) tract) and motor output passes through this amazing piece of tissue, and is subject to regulation by it. The thalamus breaks up the nociceptive stimuli and passes it on to the appropriate pieces of cortex for processing, such as the primary somatosensory cortex (S1), a small strip of brain that deals entirely with the sensory aspects of the body e.g., touch, proprioception, pain, etc.

Endogenous Mechanisms of Pain Control

Have you ever wondered how, as a child when you bruised your knee and ran to your mother for hugs and sympathy, her giving your knee a kiss and rubbing it better did actually make the pain go away? There is actually a neural basis for both of these magic remedies that mum would dole out.

Whenever we hurt ourselves, we always rub the area that we knocked as an instinctive reaction. And most of the time, it does actually stop the pain, or at least dull the ache. It's thought that by rubbing the area that we've just carelessly caught on a table as we walked past, we are activating the Aβ nerve fibres in our skin, which are mechanosensory fibres that carry information to our brains about touch. Theses fibres interact with interneurones in the spinal cord, which in turn synapse with the nociceptive fibres carrying the pain signals that have just been set off by that stupid bloody table, who put that there, etc., etc. These interneurones have a suppressive effect on the C fibre via presynaptic inhibition, acting as a gate to control the transmission of pain stimuli. This is technically just a hypothesis, called the gate-control hypothesis no less, but it does nicely explain the universal behaviour reaction to pain - the rubbing of the injured area. This is the mechanism taken advantage of by TENS (transcutaneous electrical neural stimulation) machines, where electrodes are placed on the skin over a peripheral nerve. TENS devices are often used quite successfully to treat some types of intractable pain.

Then there's mum's amazing skill at kissing away the pain. I suppose I don't need to tell you that it's got nothing to do with the kissing, so much as the belief the child has that his mum kissing his knee better will make his knee better. The kissing of the knee results in the release of endorphins, the body's own pain relief substances. Endorphins are small proteins that are chemically a part of the opoid family, and so have similar effects to morphine and heroin. They can also be as addictive as morphine or heroin, as proved by anyone who needs to get a gym fix in everyday. The endorphins are also implicated with regard to the placebo effect in pain relief. A placebo (from the Latin 'I shall please') is an inert substance that, none the less, produces a clinical effect. A good example in this case is in post-operative patients who, on being told that they are being given pain relief, are actually only injected with normal saline but still report a decrease in their pain symptoms. The belief that they are being given a treatment that will work is enough for the pain relief systems of the brain to be activated. This placebo effect is probably also a likely explanation for other methods of pain relief, such as acupuncture, hypnosis, and a loving mother's kiss.

Then there's the story of people who sustain horrific injuries and apparently feel no pain, or people that suddenly become super strong in order to lift a car off the person trapped underneath. This phenomenon is actually the result of descending inhibition coming from an area of the brain called the periaqueductal grey matter (PAG). It can be activated by strong emotion and stress, and also by those possessive of a stoic nature. It is this particular pain modulation mechanism that explains the difference in different people's pain thresholds.

Pain Dysfunction

There are two clinical pain states: physiological pain (i.e., pain caused by stimulation of nociceptors) and neuropathic pain (i.e., intractable pain that is maladaptive and has no logical stimulus).

Physiological pain is the everyday pain that we are all very familiar with, be it a paper cut or a broken leg. However, this pain state can often morph into slightly more sinister pain states due to the release of various substances (such as substance P and CGRP (calcitonin gene related protein)), resulting in a hyperalgesia, where even the slightest touch will set off an exaggerated pain response. These changes are not permanent however, and as the wound heals normal pain perception will be re-established.

Neuropathic pain is pain that results from damage to the nervous system that results in permanent changes to central nervous system (CNS) connections. There are various hypothesised mechanisms by which this can happen, but the result's always the same; an inescapable, constant pain that is resistant to many prescribed forms of analgesia. This type of pain is often associated with those who have either ripped out the nerve roots that supply a limb, or people who have an amputation injury. The pain appears to come from the deadened / missing extremity, and is very hard to treat. Often, patients will experience an allodynia - the interpretation of previously innocuous stimuli as being painful. For instance, if I were to stroke the cheek of a person who lost their arm in a motorcycle accident, they might experience an excruciating pain in their missing limb. The reasons for this are beyond the scope of this write up to explain unfortunately, but those with an interest in neurology and pain can read up further in various papers and in the more advanced neurological textbooks.


I did a whole three months of degree work focusing on pain. When you've studied a subject in depth, it's hard to know what should and shouldn't go into a brief summary. If you feel there's anything missing, let me know and I'll add it in if I think it's appropriate.

(thing) by kerria (1.5 mon) (print)   (I like it!) 7 C!s Sat Oct 15 2005 at 23:06:38

 

Pain

Pain – – has an Element of Blank – –
It cannot recollect
When it begun – – or if there were
A time when it was not – –

It has no Future – – but itself – –
Its Infinite contain
Its Past – – enlightened to perceive
New periods – – of Pain

Emily Dickinson1

 

Goal: Achieve catharsis of the soul. Possible outcome: None

Being in a state of pain, of deep and utter pain from rejection, does something to you. So many people have described this feeling in the past, and many more will try to describe it in the future. What I feel right now might not be comprehensible to anyone but me. But I still do write it.

Because there is no way around it, this writing must be done. What a silly thing to do. But pain makes people do stupid things.

    Brain scans carried out on volunteers showed that when they suffered a social snub, the brain's "pain centre" went into overdrive. The finding suggests that any emotional stress, such as the demise of a relationship or the loss of a loved one, might be far more closely linked to real pain than previously thought.

Matthew D. Lieberman, assistant professor of psychology at UCLA, The Guardian, October 10, 20032

Pain makes a mess of all feelings and emotions. It affects both body and mind, leaving you with that sting in your chest, nausea, sleeplessness, confused and with a non-existing self-esteem. Ok; reality described.

 

When everything was gold

Your mail:

If I had been lying close to your back I would put my nose in your hair
and as much of your body as near mine as possible.
Then I would have felt someone's pulse and I wouldn't be sure
which one of us this pulse belonged to. I would have sensed
the heat coming from you, while you tenderly had shown me with your hands that you were
ready, or perhaps satisfied. Caresses, touches.
All the things there are so few and so useless words to describe.

If I had been lying close to your back and put my hand gently on your stomach,
what would you feel?

My reply:

If you had been lying close to my back and gently put your hand on my stomach,
I would probably be quiet. Quiet to perceive the revolt of my senses,
a revolt that would start in my gut and spread out in my body.
My nerves would probably control my senses, conquer them without weapons
just by outnumbering them. There would be sparkles and fire,
and no one would hand over buckets of water to put the flames away.

If you had been lying close to my back and gently put your hand on my stomach,
I wouldn't hesitate jumping into that fire,
walking on coals would be like floating on air, the heat would sooth me
even though the possibility for burns and blisters would be present.

If you had been lying close to my back and gently put your hand on my stomach,
I would want to get even closer to you,
to wipe away the skin that separates us,
I would want to move to the beat of your heart
as you move to the beat of mine.

If you had been lying close to my back and gently put your hand on my stomach,
I would have felt the possibility
that we were going somewhere together,
and then I would have taken you by the hand and led us there...

Your reply:

...I would have let you. Would have let you take me by the hand
and felt that I got tensed and relaxed,
I would have had knives and butterflies in my stomach and millions of stars in my head.
I think of your hands, your lips and your hair
which you have to put behind your ear when you bend to fetch something.
I think of what your hands may do to me
and everything I want to do in return when our bodies live a life of their own
and all reason and sense are gone like morning dew at dawn.
Take my hand and feel.
Turn around, let me caress your back. Give me a grin.
Give me your lips and set fire to yet another part of my body.
You glow, pulsating like blood.
I feel you against my chest, you prickle me and I tickle you.
Now we're not even two anymore, going to that somewhere,
greedy, blood