A child's perspective on chronic pain

Those of you who are reading this most likely know my health issues. I haven't had a single day without some level of pain in four years and six months.  The pain has never dipped below my own personal 3.5 on the pain scale, and there have been way too many days in which my heart has been complicit in the matter, pumping pain throughout my body with its every beat.  The days on which my blood feels like poison because it is so loaded with pain.

Anyway, when you are a sick mom, you can't only take care of yourself.  You have to monitor how your disease is affecting your family emotionally.  Do your children feel gypped because their mom can't play sports or run with them?  Does your husband feel cheated because pain has worn you to the tiniest of particles by 6 pm? Are your children taking advantage of the guilt you feel for being sick and trying to manipulate you into things?

All of this has been my experience over the past 4 1/2 years, and without any discernible end, it will continue to be my experience. But nothing has brought it to my attention as much as the letter I found after Christmas break.

I was cleaning out a daughter's craft area and found a folded piece of Christmas wrapping paper. I was just about to throw it away when a quiet voice in my head told me to open it.  Inside, I found the following:
"The gift I would most like to give is no more pain for my mom. She is in constant pain so badly that she has trouble just walking. I remember when she had no pain, which was when I was 4. Then she had a heart attack and now she has chronic pain. I would love to be able to play soccer in the backyard with her again, and mess around with her, but she can't because of her pain. Her medication pile covers our counter. I hate it so much. It would be awesome for it to be gone."  Child's signature.

Even reading it now is a punch to my gut. I can't read it without crying.  I wrapped it carefully and I carry it in my wallet.  I don't know why, but maybe it's just that it's the one time that this child has clearly expressed his feelings about my illness and there's no taint of manipulation. The letter wasn't placed out in the open for all to see.  It was tucked away in the chaos of the craft center, and I think he just forgot about it. 

Perhaps the hardest part of this is that, as would any mom, I would do anything to protect my children from heartache and pain. But what pains my child the most is me and I can't do anything about it.