The pain

29 January 2025

Knowing how to cope with pain, our own and that of others.
Learning to support another in their pain is sometimes difficult because it confronts us with our own vulnerability.

Today I saw a patient, Carmen, who recently finished her treatment for breast cancer: surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy… She is currently under control and free of disease. During the consultation, I saw a slightly thickened endometrium in the ultrasound, which made it necessary to perform a biopsy. The probability of the result being malignant is very low, however, the fact of facing the word biopsy and the slow wait for a result, has ignited in her the logical response of concern that has triggered tears.

Tears of pain, for the memories that accumulate in memory, wanting to come out in droves and without permission, for the uncertainty of the result. Sadness for the pain experienced, fear of another similar process. And, in the middle of this pain, another pain, the pain of causing pain… He asked for forgiveness, tears and forgiveness…
In the end, after waiting in silence, I asked him why he felt the need to ask me for forgiveness: “for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. I know that people don’t know what to do when someone else cries, and it’s uncomfortable…”

It’s very important to have a space where you can cry without worrying about the other person, where the other person is the one who supports you. And this is difficult.
It’s difficult from the point of view of the person who needs to cry, because there is a loss of control, it’s not “me” who takes care of the other person, it’s me who needs a hug, care. Seeing ourselves in this position of vulnerability is difficult.
On the other hand, sometimes we don’t know how to support, to offer a space where the other person’s pain can be felt. The most immediate response is sometimes to “do”, we don’t know what to “do”, how to react. But the secret is to get out of the “do” mode, and get into the “be” mode. Many times, the other person only needs us to be present in this moment of vulnerability and pain, just to be, without doing, without saying, to remain present.

Breathe. There is nothing uncomfortable. Tension dissolves, a knot comes undone, it is almost physical, you can almost see it.
There is nothing wrong with crying, let us learn to support ourselves in pain, in vulnerability, in what seems uncomfortable. A great power is also unleashed, a great connection in this “being together” at a time like this. For me it is a privilege to accompany. I thank you, Carmen, for daring to be vulnerable at my side, for allowing me to support you today in your pain.

Following this train of thought, fragments of the book The Gift come to mind, written at the age of 90 by Edith Eger, a wonderful woman, survivor of the Auschwitz concentration camp:

“Freedom is a lifelong practice, a choice we choose to make again and again each day. Ultimately, freedom requires hope, which I define in two ways: the awareness that suffering, however terrible, is temporary; and the curiosity to discover what happens next. Hope allows us to live in the present instead of the past and to open the doors of our mental prisons”

This book is a treasure in the form of words, a conversation with a wise woman who has had an incredible life. A place to which one can always return for guidance and comfort. To read, to heal.

Edith Eger. The Gift. 2020. Penguin Random House
Edith Eger. En Auschwitz, no había prozac. Editorial Planeta (Spanish translation)
Unfortunately, there is no translation into Catalan.