It is late evening when I lay down after a long day of classes, legs outstretched on my bed, a bag of frozen peas tucked under my right buttock. I let out a deep sigh that is overly dramatic yet feels appropriate to my gratefulness for obtaining a few elusive, pain-free moments. 

I am in the midst of the worst flare-up in years of an upper hamstring tendonitis issue that used to plague me more seriously about five years ago. The pain comes from inflammation at the tip of the tendon where it connects to the sit bone, along with swelling of the bursa, a small fluid-filled sac that lies between the two. In short, it makes sitting, especially on hard surfaces, less than pleasant. Sometimes I imagine there is a tiny, molecular-level gremlin inside my cells cruelly pumping on a pair of fire bellows to fan the flames of inflammation. 

Over the years of dealing with this problem, I have experienced the full gamut of emotional distress, from frustration, to “why me?” wallowing, to the let-down of false recoveries. But I have also come out on the other side, found long periods of stability, and learned to stay positive when things just won’t go my way. Because chronic pain rarely goes away completely, what has sustained me most has been finding contentedness in the storm rather than looking to the light at the end of the tunnel. In that spirit, and because a positive outlook really does help me cope with pain, here are the ways I have grown through chronic pain:

I don’t take myself too seriously. My discomfort, which is literally a pain in the butt, has put me in a number of awkward situations. From carrying a pillow to language classes each day in Taiwan, to standing up during the middle of meetings to stretch, to accidentally dropping the lacrosse ball I sit on for pain-relief and having it echo loudly throughout the classroom, I’ve learned that my health is more important than my image.

I’ve become more disciplined. I was never very serious about taking good care of my body until I had a need to. But when regular stretching and exercise have a causative relationship with pain reduction, those activities become non-negotiable. I’ve carried over better discipline in some areas quite well, like in my learning habits, and not so well in others, like my prayer and devotional life.

I’m SMARTer…in the goal-oriented sense, at least. Years ago, I initially used my condition as an excuse not to pursue my long-term goals, only to become bogged down as months passed by without progress. Eventually, by setting specific and attainable goals—accomplishing daily whatever small amount my body allowed—I was able to study and take the GRE, pass a Chinese proficiency test, and apply and get accepted to graduate school.

I’m more patient toward those advanced in age. I jest not! Only after living with persistent pain did I understand why old people can be so grumpy. It has also given me a new appreciation for my grandpa, who, despite living with constant back pain since he was thirty (he’s undergone five surgeries since he was thirty and has another one scheduled next month), always wears a smile on his face and never complains.

I try not to assume. Just looking at me, there’s no way to tell I’m not the young and presumably healthy individual I appear to be. Similarly, everyone is dealing with something—a personal illness, a sick relative, a career setback, or maybe just a shitty day—often invisible and below the surface. So I try to temper my judgment, be charitable of people’s intentions, and practice grace.  

In truth, I’ve noticed not only the presence of these attributes as I’ve cultivated them in times of difficulty, but also their absence when I’m feeling good. I’m naturally more gracious toward others when there is pain present to physically remind me I need grace too. Like the flipside of the human tendency to only seek God in times of trial, I am apt to let these positives fade after my body has improved. After all, if character can be built up, it can also be torn down.

I think—and hope and pray—that my body is close to recovering from this current flare-up and I can return soon to relatively pain-free living. In the meantime, as I strive to do away with the pain of my condition, I’m paying more attention to holding onto the good that has come of it.

Chad Westra

Chad Westra (’15) is a Ph.D. student at the University of Washington where he studies modern Chinese history. He enjoys chess, following Detroit sports, and caring for the overgrowth of plants in his condo.