Opeyemi's Pain Management Short story
Opeyemi winced as the needle pricked her skin, the cold
metal pushing medicine deep into her veins. She had been dealing with chronic
pain for years, a relentless throb that wrapped around her body like a heavy
blanket. It started with a car accident when she was 25, a momentary
distraction that left her with a crushed leg and a spine that never healed
quite right. Since then, the pain had become her constant companion, an
unwelcome shadow trailing her through every day.
At first, she thought she could push through it.
Painkillers, therapy, meditation—each method felt like a temporary quick-fix
over a deep wound. Some days, the ache was dull, like a distant storm, muffled
far enough away that she could almost ignore it. But on the bad days, it hit
her like a freight train, paralyzing her with its intensity.
Today was one of those bad days. She sat in the doctor's
office, waiting for her pain management specialist to explain the next step. “Opeyemi,
you know it had taken years to reach this point” Dr. Caleb said calmly while
trying to gesture towards his patient to take things easy and trust the
process, “I am sorry but I have to tell you this-after dozens of failed
treatments and countless sleepless nights, to think of nerve blocks and
long-term solutions.
Dr. Caleb, looking at his bewildered and confused patient
with her expression calm but concerned. "Opeyemi," he said again,
this time more gently, "I think it's time we consider a more integrated
approach."
Opeyemi raised an eyebrow. "Integrated how?"
"We need to manage your pain from multiple angles. It
won't just be about medication anymore. We’ll try a combination of physical
therapy, targeted injections, mindfulness techniques, and lifestyle changes.
Pain management isn't just about reducing discomfort—it's about regaining
control."
The words echoed in Opeyemi's mind. Regaining control as a
Yoruba girl from Nigeria she said to herself in the ever-soothing Yoruba
language “Oluwa ma gbami lowo aisan yi o” meaning “O God please save me from
this ailment”. She hadn’t felt in control of her body in years, the pain
dictating what she could and couldn’t do. The idea that she could find a way to
manage it, rather than simply endure it, felt foreign—but hopeful.
Over the next few months, Opeyemi followed the new plan. She
learned how to breathe through her pain, to meditate when the sharpness flared.
She worked with a physical therapist who pushed her gently, strengthening the
muscles that could help her body carry itself differently. The injections
dulled the fire in her nerves, allowing her moments of relief she hadn’t felt
in years.
There were setbacks, of course. No plan was perfect, and
some days, the pain still overwhelmed her. But now, she had tools—a way to
fight back. She realized that pain management wasn’t about erasing the pain
completely. It was about learning to live alongside it, without letting it
control her life.
One evening, Opeyemi stood by her window, watching the
sunset. Her leg ached, but it was manageable, a whisper rather than a roar. For
the first time in years, she felt something close to peace.
Pain was still part of her, but it no longer defined her.
She had regained control.
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