According to Wikipedia, chronic pain is
“pain that has lasted longer than three to six months…Chronic pain of different etiologies has been characterized as a disease affecting brain structure and function.”
When pain hangs around our bodies for too long – i.e., past the time period of normal healing for the original cause – it starts to change the central nervous system. Pain receptors go into overdrive while pain suppressors go on vacation. MRIs and fMRIs have clearly shown that the brain processes pain differently once it passes over to chronic pain.
If chronic pain is a disease, then there is a list of symptoms that go along with it just like any other disease. The biggest and most disturbing of symptoms is brain fog. It can cause difficulty remembering words. There are times when I am talking and have to describe the word I am searching for because I can’t remember it. This is frustrating to no end. The frustration can then make my anxiety increase which then makes remembering words even harder. It is a viscous circle. Short-term memory can also be impaired. The other day I was talking with my husband and we agreed I would go to the store to pick up a few things. Fifteen minutes later, I still had not left and he was perplexed. When he asked me why I hadn’t left yet, I could only stare blankly at him. I could not remember the discussion we had just had! Not only is this embarrassing for me, it is also difficult to explain to my husband. There are no visible warning signs when my brain is not working. I can’t even tell when I am impaired, much like someone who is intoxicated not realizing they are too impaired to drive.
Speaking of driving, brain fog loves to mess with me during this activity too. Although I am a safe driving, I will get confused as to where I am and where I am going. There are times when I am driving that I cannot recognize the road I am on. I will know that I am on the correct road, but none of the surrounding look familiar. This is easier to ignore than the other times when I actually get lost. I have learned to take the same roads over and over again without deviation because taking a “short cut” will usually end up getting me lost or turned around somehow. Night driving is the worse because so many visual clues are hidden in the dark. It is to the point where I have to rely on my GPS to get me where I want to go, even though I have been there many times.
Explaining these limitations to others is difficult because both the chronic pain and brain fog are invisible. No one can look at me and see my disabilities. They see a perfectly normal-looking, almost-39-year-old woman. They see a healthy-looking mother (unless it is one of my days when my legs don’t want to work right so I am limping or using my cane). I rarely appear disabled so that when I act it, people are surprised. Even I can be surprised at my body’s defection from normalcy. It can feel like a separate entity from who I am. Some days I have to wrestle for control over it – and I don’t always win.