Getting to Yes

Joseph was six-feet perhaps, not an inch shorter than me, yet as the broad-faced, dark chocolate-skinned man lumbered slowly toward me with a slumped gait that made him seem at least three inches shorter. At the same time, I could feel and see that each step he took reeked with pain. Some

days, I still do the same dance, and six months before my ability to sit, reach, stretch, or even take a step was just as bound.

People who do not have chronic arthritis or join and muscle pain might not be able to imagine how much the constant stabbing or wrenching cramps transform the body, mind and spirit. Most well-meaning, yet uninitiated people will say something like,"You can get over it," which is meant to be an encouragement. Worse, are those who offer,  "Think positive thoughts," or "I read an article that said you can use natural foods to stop those pains."

The real truth that Joseph and I know is that once pain moves into your life it pervades your space as much as a wife. The hurt and accompanied depression can become constant companions. You an feel the presence in your sleep. They make you aware of their deep intrusions on your life every time you move. When you try to get out of bed in the morning, like a hungry lover, pain tries to pull you back.

Pain demands your surrender. That is why those who live with chronic pain conditions learn to fight. That is also why they need support to succeed. Boldly said, no one knows the pain and depression unless they have been there.

I previously wrote about the cycle of pain that makes you want to quit life. Like the call of a siren, with every step, reach, sit, and stretch, pain slaps or stabs at you until you recline. You notice it hurst less when you lie perfectly still, although the body wracks even then. Finally, pain convinces you that you cannot get up. You cannot fight. In the recesses of your mind, uninvited voices whisper, "give up."

So, as Joseph sat near me at a table in Health Food City, where Dr. Lin has her office, we talked about pain and movement. Truth be told, to my embarrassment, I talked about 70 percent more than he. Joseph kind of looked at me and listened to my words, as any smart person might when
introduced to a stranger. I could see in his eyes, he was not certain what to make of the situation. C'mon, you go to the doctor and she introduces you to another patient, who claims to be going through the same kinds of pains and circumstances.

He listened and his manner warmed as I rapidly cycled through memories of my long walk with pain. Somewhere in what I said about the responses of immobility and depression, we seemed to begin to bond. I read doubt in his eyes, but he hoped for release, as I did months ago.

I hoped that he might become a personal support on my journey to physical, mental and spiritual harmony and balance. Someone to chat with, exchange stories, celebrate victories, and listen. I planned to do the same for him.

As his ride pulled up, I handed Joseph my card. He took the small cardboard rectangle, and promised to email me his contact information. He did. Yes. For both of us, that is where another story begins.