Ruby – My Mom
Managing pain in elderly patients presents complex challenges, as individuals may either underreport or overreport their discomfort, complicating appropriate treatment. This difficulty is particularly pronounced in patients who are non-communicative due to conditions like coma or prolonged sleeping episodes, making it hard to accurately assess and address their pain.
In the silent embrace of the night, I sat vigil by Mom’s side. The calm of the room belied the storm of worry raging within me as I watched for any sign of Mom’s discomfort.
“Mom, can you tell me where it hurts?” I whispered, my voice soft, fearing the disruption of the room’s fragile peace.
Mom, trapped in a realm where words failed her, could not hear me, or could not respond… I didn’t know which. My heart ached at her silent struggle, the distance between us, once bridged by conversation, now seemingly insurmountable.
As pain twisted her features into a grimace, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. The agony written across her face was a silent scream, each contortion a stark portrayal of her suffering.
“Is it your legs, Mom? Are they bothering you again?” I ventured, eyeing the restless movements of her limbs, their twitching and kicking an unspoken narrative of her distress.
The tension in the room was palpable, each breath heavy with the weight of the unsaid and the unknown. Armed with medication yet plagued by doubt, I stood at a crossroad, each path shrouded in uncertainty.
“I’m going to try the pain medication first, Mom,” I resolved, my voice firmer than I felt, the decision heavy with the fear of making the wrong choice.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I waited, watched, and hoped for any sign of relief in Mom’s condition. The night became a cycle of medicating, waiting, and observing, a rhythm of hope tinged with desperation.
“Perhaps it’s anxiety,” I mused, considering every possibility, “Or maybe the muscle spasms.”
Then came a blood curdling scream in anguish. It was especially difficult to assess whether it was emotional distress due to a nightmare or physical pain. This situation felt like watching my mom being tortured but not being able to see by whom and how.
Especially not knowing what to do to comfort her drove me crazy.
The best I could do was to have medications on hand to address physical pain and anxiety. I also had a muscle relaxant that was prescribed for times we saw her kicking her legs in restlessness. With these three medications and recommended doses at my disposal, I had to figure out by trial and error how to keep my mom comfortable.
Sometimes she was peaceful within an hour of taking the drugs, while other times it took up to sixteen hours to get her relaxed.
With each decision, the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on me, the fear of misjudgment a constant companion. Yet, driven by my love for Mom, I pressed on, my actions informed by the silent language of her needs.
Julia and Sally’s Story
Julia paced the living room, her mind racing with concern for her mother, Sally, who had been struggling with chronic pain for months. Sally’s once radiant spirit was now overshadowed by a persistent, gnawing discomfort that left her weary and drained.
“Mom, where exactly is it hurting today?” Julia asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she watched her mother shift uncomfortably in her chair.
Sally sighed, her face etched with pain. “It’s my back again, Julia. It feels like someone is twisting a knife in there.”
Julia exchanged a worried glance with her father, Mateo, who sat quietly in the corner, his brow furrowed with concern. “We need to find a longer lasting solution to your pain. It hurts me to see you in pain like this,” Julia said, her voice filled with determination.
Mateo nodded, his voice gentle but firm. “Sally, we need to try the new pain management plan the doctor suggested. It’s worth a shot.”
Reluctantly, Sally agreed. The doctor had prescribed a combination of medications and physical therapy exercises that could help alleviate the pain. “Let’s start with the medication, and then we can try some gentle stretches,” Julia suggested, her eyes searching her mother’s face for any sign of relief.
As the days passed, Julia and Mateo worked together to ensure Sally took her medication on time and performed the exercises prescribed by the therapist. “Mom, let’s try these stretches now. It might help ease the tension in your back,” Julia encouraged, guiding her mother through the gentle movements.
Sally winced but followed her daughter’s lead. “I’m trying, Julia. I really am.”
The progress was slow, and there were days when Sally’s pain seemed insurmountable. “Julia, I don’t know if I can do this,” Sally whispered one evening, her eyes filled with tears.
Julia knelt beside her mother, her voice soft with empathy. “Mom, we’ll keep trying different things until we find one that works. You’re not alone in this.”
The turning point came when they discovered a pain management specialist who introduced them to acupuncture alongside her current medication regimen. “This might be the breakthrough we need,” Mateo said, his voice filled with hope.
Sally was skeptical but willing to try. Over time, the new treatments began to make a slight but noticeable difference. The acupuncture sessions provided relief that the medications alone could not, and Sally’s pain levels started to decrease.
“Julia, Mateo, thank you for sticking with me,” Sally said one afternoon, her eyes brimming with gratitude.
Mateo smiled, his voice filled with emotion. “This is our battle too. We’re a team.”
Daniel, Bonnie, and Moira’s Story
Daniel watched his grandmother, Moira, from across the room, her frail form slumped in the armchair. Her chronic arthritis had worsened, and the pain had become a constant companion, robbing her of the ability to move freely.
“Grandma, how are you feeling today?” Daniel asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Moira looked up, her eyes clouded with pain. “It’s my knees again, Daniel. They’re on fire.”
Daniel’s mother, Bonnie, entered the room with a concerned expression. “Mom, we need to try something new. The pain medication isn’t enough anymore,” she said, sitting beside her mother.
Moira nodded weakly. “I’m willing to try anything at this point.”
Bonnie had been researching alternative pain management techniques and found a clinic that specializes in holistic treatments. “Mom, there’s a clinic that offers yoga-based physical therapy. It’s worth a shot,” Bonnie suggested.
Moira agreed, and the family embarked on a new journey. The clinic introduced a regimen that included gentle yoga, and massage therapy. “We need to stay consistent with this, Mom,” Bonnie encouraged, guiding her mother through the new routine.
The initial weeks were challenging, with Moira’s pain levels fluctuating. “This is so hard, Bonnie. I don’t know if I can keep this up,” Moira admitted one day, her voice laced with frustration.
Daniel stepped in, his voice filled with determination. “Grandma, you’re strong. We’re here to support you every step of the way.”
Slowly but surely, the new treatments began to make a difference. Her medications helped reduce inflammation, while the yoga and massage therapy eased the tension in Moira’s joints. “I’m starting to feel a bit better,” Moira said one afternoon, a hint of a smile on her face.
Bonnie hugged her mother tightly. “We knew you could do it, Mom. Just keep going.”
As the months passed, Moira’s pain became more manageable, and her mobility improved. “Thank you for believing in me,” she told Bonnie and Daniel one evening, her eyes shining with gratitude.
Daniel smiled, his voice filled with love. “Of course, Grandma, I never doubted you. You’re a fighter.”
The journey to manage Moira’s pain had been filled with challenges, but through perseverance and the unwavering support of her family, they found a path to relief and renewed hope.