Discomfort v. Pain

My Mom has acute bronchitis, and coincidentally, me too. She has been feeling pretty crummy in the mornings, which is not really new, but this "crummy-ness" has been full of discomfort for her. Over the weekend, she repeatedly wanted to know if we were going to the emergency room, because she didn't want to go there and sit and wait, but she knew she wanted to get checked. Finally, on Wednesday morning, she asked me to call the doctor to see if we could get her in for an appointment. "Why'd you wait until Wednesday," you ask?

I've learned this thing about my Mom and doctors. If I am impressed enough with her discomfort/pain to get her to the doctor's office, by the time we get there, she'll be her "fair to midland" self, which is exactly what she'll tell the doctor, and we'll be back where we started, with painful, labored (and be-labored) morning risings, without any form of additional help, other than the previously prescribed variety of inhalers and meds.

So I wait until she's ready to go, or tells me to call, and when we go, then I know that she is really feeling bad enough to be there.

I have this hypothesis. Mom's a daughter and niece of doctors, and unless you're dying, you don't really deserve to be being seen by a professional such as them. One particularly hard morning, we talked about the difference between "pain" and "discomfort." On a daily basis, she experiences a great deal of discomfort, mainly related to breathing, which she does (thankfully) all day and night long. Pain, on the other hand, is foreign to her. To get an idea about her relationship to pain versus discomfort, I asked her about childbirth. Even though Mom is experiencing a loss of short term memory, her long term is intact, so she remembers those episodes. And she used the word "discomfort" to describe that too. Okay, so I haven't actually birthed a child, but everything I've heard about it says (unless you're out of it) that it's painful. Yes, women go back and do it again and again, but that's because there's something about a child being placed on in your arms that makes it all worthwhile (again, so I hear). But Mom can't even use the word "pain" when it comes to the birthing of not one but six children.

So breathing, when she's got emphysema, COPD, and (in this case) acute bronchitis? Just discomfort. It makes me aware of the fact that while on this journey with Mom, I will probably venture with her into a world of pain. I hope I'm able to provide the comfort that comes not in the shape of a pill, but in the warmth of a soothing back rub or a hand to be held when drifting off to sleep.