They say that once pain is gone you forget about it.  Apparently this is why Mothers are prepared to have more children. Having ventured down this road only once, I cannot comment!!

Medical science will tell us that some people are more predisposed to pain than others.  I’ve been told that I have a high pain threshold which is why the pain that I’m now dealing with on a daily basis is really frustrating.

I’ve asked others who have had mouth cancer if this is a pain they recognise.  Some cannot remember, or care to forget, others are lucky enough never to have experienced it.

I’ve had acute ear pain from the day I walked out of hospital.  As I was on pain killing drugs for the first couple of weeks, it was a dull ache.  Then I arbitrarily took myself off these drugs – to see how I was doing – and immediately regretted it!   It took another few days to go back to a dull ache.  Now, eight weeks on from the op, I’ve learned to stop playing with the pain relief doses.

The physical parts of recovery – the  weekly hydrotherapy and physiotherapy sessions on the left shoulder, the scar care, managing the constant dry mouth, the speech therapy, cranialosteopathy – are all fine.  They are all exhausting to various degrees but it’s progress. But the pain I have putting my contact lenses into my eye, when I brush my teeth, yawn, cry, drink anything cold or fizzy, put any food in my mouth for the first few minutes, move my jaw around, talk for any considerable time, is really tough to walk through.

According to the consultant surgeon, I’m suffering from neurological  pain.  He’s prescribed more drugs.  Five weeks in, I’m still waiting for the magic to kick in.

And it’s not the physical pain I’m worried about.  It’s what it’s now doing to my mind.   I tell myself I’m getting better, I don’t focus on the niggling thoughts in the back of my mind; but I cannot deny they are there.  And I’m unsure if it’s my subconscious trying to wake me up or if it’s just a negative pattern loop that needs to be ignored.

And much as though I’ve tried to name pain something different, to tell myself it’s the sensation that is helping me get better, when it kicks in, it’s my entire focus.  Wiping all thought from my mind, all sensation from the rest of my body, all awareness is towards the extreme molten wax being poured into my ears, the fire around my left jaw, the tearing, ripping of my left eye.  This pain obliterates all thought, sound, sense. In these moments I have to move, to stamp my feet, to hold my jaw,  to rub my forehead. And I can’t cry; that just makes it worse!! And then it goes, as fast as it arrived. And the sweet sensation of normal washes over me.

I anticipate pain now before it arrives.  And I wonder if because I think of it, it appears.  I worry when I’ve forgotten to take my pain relief or if I’ve not taken it with me.  I think about what I drink, when I eat and what I eat, where I place the food in my mouth. And all of this noise isn’t me.  How dull is all of this?  But, despite best efforts, it’s beginning to consume me.

I’ve gone back to work on a phased basis, to be normal again and to give me something else to think about. I’m really pleased that I’ve learned how to disguise my scars and manage my diction quirks.  I like the new ritual of spending ages to paint my face, do my hair, wear work clothes.  But acting normal, when I don’t feel normal, is also exhausting and I’m left unsure if the cost outweighs the benefits.

And I have no answers.  It is what it is until it isn’t.

Damn.