It seems that genes play a role in pain perception. If that is true, then I inherited my high pain tolerance from my mother. It isn't a good thing to inherit, for pain is often a warning signal. I completely miss these signals, till they become strident and unbearable. Doctors ask me how I didn't realise I needed medical attention. What can I say other than, "I didn't feel any pain"?
Anna, on the other hand, comes from a family where pain tolerance is not that high.
My earliest recollection of Anna's tolerance of pain was sometime in the late '60s. We were in Port-of-Spain, and before our first home-country trip we had to have shots, immunizing us against Cholera, Typhoid, and anything else the World Health Organization insisted on.
|School uniforms at Dunross Preparatory School |
look nearly the same after over 40 years
Amma prepared us by telling us that we had permission to leave school early as we had an appointment at the medical center to get shots that would feel like a "small ant bite". My brother was made to wear a new vest under his shirt and my elder sister was told to carry a without-sleeves blouse. My younger sister and I were in school uniforms that anyway had no sleeves.
We reach the Caribbean Medical Center at the appointed time. Six of us sit on a wooden bench, my father at the head and mother at the tail. Anna turns to us and asks us who wants to get the injection first! Before Anna can choose the last slot, Amma says she will be the last to get a shot, so that she could help us when we have ours. None of us kids wants to be first and we looked significantly at our father, expecting him to be the big brave man and go first. Anna suggests that we get our shots in order of our ages, youngest to eldest, successfully sidestepping our pleading looks, and Amma's choice, deftly.
And so we did. Anna drove us home, in the middle of a school day. We played frisbee in the garden and Amma made us treats. Anna retired to bed, saying he was going to get a fever!!
Getting our shots in reverse order of our age became the norm in our family.
|Vaccines for life|
Fast forward to 2014.
When I delve into Anna's medication in the US, I realise that he has been prescribed 2 tablets of Acetaminophen 325mg per day. That's a high dose of pain killer to take on a daily basis. Over a period of time we have worked on reducing it to zero. Anna only takes it as an SOS.
I meet him one evening, after days of not being able to communicate with him properly thru' his disorientation and somnambulance.
|Anna is tired|
Me: How are you, Anna?
Anna: I am OK now.
Me (frowning, not understanding what he means): What do you mean now, Anna?
I get no response. So I change tack.
Me: Anna, were you feeling unwell before? Earlier in the day?
There is a long pause. Then.....
Anna: You know; I was in excruciating pain this morning?
Me: Really Anna? Why didn't you take a painkiller? You can take up to 2 Acetaminophens if you are in a lot of pain.
Anna (referring to the attendant): He didn't give me medicine.
I ask the attendant if Anna had asked for a painkiller and he tells me that Anna hadn't.
Me: Anna, did you ask Manish for a pain killer?
Me: Why not? You shouldn't suffer if you are in serious pain. You know you can ask for painkillers whenever you need them.
Anna: Yes. Pause. I couldn't remember the words for pain or the medicine. So I just kept quiet and stayed in bed.
I cry a little inside!