I've seen people in pain everyday since I became a doctor. From children with broken bones to war vets addicted to morphine. I've seen people break down from the weight of bad news and I've seen people lash out because they don't understand what's happening to someone they love. I've seen a woman so scared of her prognosis she was in actual pain from the stress she was putting on her body. I've seen a boy in a wheelchair cry because his leg hurt, not because of the pain but because it hurt – he could feel it.
I think that boy was one of the most eye opening cases. He was actually moved to tears and so happy that he could feel his pain than I've ever been in my entire life. It reminded me of my father in some strange way. He went through life numbing himself to the reality of it. He didn't want to feel the weight of his decisions and his life anymore so he drank and he kept drinking until he was completely unrecognizable. It made me wonder, can the ghost of a man feel the pain he brought on himself in life? I think that's what made me stop drinking whiskey when I got home from work everyday. Life wasn't easy, especially after Sarah left and even more when my father disappeared; but I wanted to feel it. If I didn't I was afraid I'd become like him or that I'd just be taking the fact that I could feel it for granted.
On this island pain is everywhere. From the emotional depths of us, beating down our spirit with each life that's lost and every day that goes by without rescue. I see people here in pain from infection and fear. Stress bringing on hives and headaches and there's nothing I can do. Sometimes I want to tell them to feel it because once they stop feeling it they won't be living anymore. No one wants to simply exist even in a place like this.
Now I'm afraid for them, of the panic that comes without someone there to turn to when you're baby's crying all night or when the headaches get so bad you can barely see anymore. I've been the reluctant touch stone for so long now I'm more worried about them than myself. The hopelessness battling with helplessness that's been baring down on us from the beginning.
I'm not alone but that almost makes things worse. Trying to say everything I couldn't say before with a look, it was painful. Trying to think as fast as I could to come up with something to make it right, to get out of what was happening. There was nothing. I always thought I was familiar with pain, just like fear, then we crashed and things happened on this island that made me redefine everything I know.
Now everything's changed again and I don't think all the pain we've endured so far will even cover what's to come and that terrifies me.
