Purpose for the Pain

IT’S NEVER AS IT SEEMS

Surging through every nerve ending in my body, the intensity of the pain threatened my sanity. Every breath was a battle. Each second drew on endlessly. The screams of someone much too close to me rang horrifically through my bones. I remember wishing desperately that they would be quiet for just a moment, before I realized that the wailing shrieks were my own.

Laying on my stomach in the dust, I thought of trying to run, but his firm hand kept me as still as I could bear. With each cut, he worked into the flesh of my back deeper and deeper. I needed him to stop. I begged him to. The pain alone was going to kill me and death was beginning to seem like a delicious relief.

Suddenly, for a moment, he did stop. I held my breath. The feeling dulled. My eyes darted each way looking for the quickest escape from him. Every muscle in my body tensed as I planned to make a run for it.

But then he spoke gently to me. I remembered what he was doing. His hand wasn’t holding me down, but steadying me. I had laid down before him willingly. I was desperate for his help. My breath released. I relaxed. He began again.

As soon as he started, I forgot the relief. Pain and hopelessness were my only companions. Warm liquid trickled off my back and pooled around me. I wondered how there could possibly be any blood left in me. I tried to focus on his hand, but I could only feel the knife.

After what seemed like hours, I decided I was going to fight him off. I flung my own hand onto his and dug into his flesh, inflicting as much pain as I possibly could. I shouted horrible things at him. I wanted to be left alone.

Hope can get you through anything.

Another hand grabbed mine and stopped me. It was attached to a face that I knew. It was the face of a friend. Her eyes pierced into me and I instantly felt guilt for my attack against him. She turned to grab something behind her and I could see a jagged scar cut into her own flesh. I remembered the pain had a purpose. She turned back to me and wrung out a rag full of cool water onto my face. It dripped down into my mouth and I instantly felt refreshed.

I was filled to the brim with gratitude for her. Then I realized that he had directed my friend to help me. I was filled to the brim with gratitude for him. I laid back down and bared myself to him again. I still wanted to run, but I wanted to trust what he was doing for me more.

The pain never stopped, but I wasn’t focused on it anymore. I knew my friend couldn’t stop him, and I knew that I didn’t really want him to stop either. I wanted him to keep working. I wanted him to save me.

She stayed with me and held my hand. Whenever I started to scream he would direct her to dip the rag in the water and refresh me. Every time she turned I saw her scar. He kept cutting, but I had hope. Hope can get you through anything.

Then I woke up. I wasn’t on my belly in the dust. There was no blood. There was no pain. My family was smiling around me in the hospital. The doctor leaned in triumphantly. He had cut the tumor out. It had been much, much worse than anyone had suspected, but the surgery was successful. I was going to live.