I have a very serious question to pose… at what point can people just agree that one person’s pain is just as bad as somebody else’s? Why is it always a competition? Take this for example:
That was my kidney stone #6 (yeah, I photographed it, so what. I also named it Kirby). Last week I was blessed enough to pass kidney stone #8 and #9 (Little Jimmy and Big Sue).
Have you ever had a kidney stone? One in twenty men will get at least one. One in thirty women. If you haven’t had one, let me tell you just how painful they are. Imagine, if you will, feeling like you’re being repeatedly chopped cut massacred ripped open in your back and side with an axe… for a couple hours! The pain is so severe and so sudden, that you will be walking around feeling fine one moment, and the next you’ll be on your knees in the parking lot of your local grocery store puking. If it’s your first kidney stone, you won’t know yet that you’re not dying, but you certainly will wish that you could.
And then there was the time (pardon me for being graphic for a moment) that I had surgery on my rectal opening while I was wide awake and with absolutely no anesthesia (Don’t ask. Seriously.) During that episode, the pain was so severe I lay holding the bars of the hospital bed, shaking violently to keep from screaming, sweat literally streaming off of my forehead. I would have given anything to “only” be going through the pain of a kidney stone in that moment.
And then there was the time my friend in college brought a brand new set of steel nunchucks into our dormitories. I liked to play with them. I got pretty good at them. I got pretty fast at them. And one time I miscalculated and hit myself square in my manhood at full impact (there were pretty girls in the room and I had to really show off). That hurt pretty bad.
But you know what? Those were nothing compared to so-and-so’s this-and-such that they had to go through. Billy Bob had to knock out his own teeth with a claw hammer. But that was nothing compared to the time that Sally Sue was out sunbathing and a construction worker accidentally impaled her with a jackhammer. But that was nothing compared to the time that Ding Bat Dilbert got hit in the stomach with a potato cannon (ummm… that was actually me. Another blog post for another day). And believe me. None of that was anything compared to the time that Julie Jackster had a small colony of locusts living and growing inside of her brain.
You know what… pain is pain. No matter how you slice it or dice it.
The one I hear more often than any other is women comparing anything painful that happened to any man to the time they went through childbirth. If a man’s pain was absolutely indisputable, then maybe, just maybe, it was “as close to childbirth as a man will ever come”. Sgt Scott Williams had to cut his own fingers and toes off with a pair of children’s safety scissors and then he had to set himself on fire before he was finally freed in Iraq. But, I guess it was a blessing in disguise because now he can “empathize” with women who have given birth.
Pain is pain, people. But mine was worse than yours. If you have the guts… what was the worst physical pain you’ve ever been through?
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing
PS, as painful as it may be, please follow my blog. I promise not to mention rectal openings often.