In 2004, when pain first invaded my body and my life, I was a patient.

Then came the merry-go-round of tests, referrals, waiting, worry, more tests, and more referrals.
During this time, I was a very impatient and frustrated patient. When it became clear that pain was a permanent fixture in my life, I wasn’t sure what I was. I was still a patient. I was still a very impatient and frustrated patient. I was now a very impatient, frustrated, unsure and frightened chronic pain patient.

But those labels just didn’t feel right.

As I stumbled through trying to figure out life with pain and reading everything that I could get my hands on, I came across the term “Chronic Pain Warrior”. That felt right. That felt better. That is what I decided I was going to be.

Looking back, I realize it was premature to give myself such a title. A warrior is not created by a single sentence uttered by a doctor – “your pain is chronic”. But that single sentence starts you on a path and gives you the choice whether to remain a very impatient, frustrated, unsure and frightened chronic pain patient or work toward becoming a warrior.

The Oxford dictionary defines a warrior as “a brave or experienced soldier or fighter”. Wikipedia describes a warrior as “a person specializing in combat or warfare, especially within the context of a tribal or clan-based warrior culture society that recognizes a separate warrior aristocracy, class, or caste”. Merium-Webster defines a warrior as “a person engaged or experienced in warfare broadly: a person engaged in some struggle or conflict.

So how do these definitions apply to me? A frustrated, unsure, and frightened chronic pain patient?

And was I suddenly and automatically a warrior? No.

By dissecting these meanings, I could put a check beside brave and fighter. I could see the parallel between a tribal or clan-based group as I looked around waiting rooms at countless doctors’ offices, physiotherapy offices and online chronic pain support groups. It was clear we were all engaged in our own warfare against our own pain.

There is no question chronic pain patients are engaged in struggle and conflict. But certain parts of the
definitions didn’t quite fit. Not yet.

Experienced? Specialized? Part of a separate warrior aristocracy, class, or caste? These words made me think. They still make me think.

I was an experienced very impatient and frustrated patient, but the chronic label was new. I had no experience yet with the chronic part. I wasn’t sure how specialized applied to my chronic pain, and I knew I needed to figure that out. I realized I was now part of a separate class of patients, some who were in the early stages of their journey and some that were veterans. I was a newbie to the community of chronic pain. I realized I was in boot camp and had a lot of work to do to be able to call myself a warrior.

I did a lot of soul searching. I was determined to be able to call myself a Chronic Pain Warrior authentically and proudly. It is a process. It is earned. It is hard work. It is dedication to continually learn. It is my turn to help others on their journey.

In every area where warriors and masters exist, past and present, there are very clear steps to reach that goal.
Karate requires 7 belts to be earned to be the equivalent of a warrior – a black belt. There are 13 ranks and many more special ranks to reach the top in the US Army. Indigenous cultures follow the hierarchy of children, regular tribe people, handicapped, Chief’s family, hunters/warriors, tribal elders, Shaman, Chief. In every case, to reach the top it is a journey, a process of continual learning and personal growth. In every case it takes hard work and dedication.

I believe this principal applies equally to becoming a chronic pain warrior.

I do not believe an acknowledgement that your pain is now chronic makes you a warrior. Your choices make you a warrior.

Everyone’s path will be different.

It takes continual learning and personal growth. It takes curiosity and
flexibility. It takes hard work and dedication. It is an emotional and physical roller coaster. It is full of losses and wins. It is carving out your best life despite the obstacles. It is learning to adjust your sails in the wind so as not to alter your course. It takes finding and accepting your village of support. It is listening and learning from those who are farther along their journey with an open mind and open heart.

In each of my next few articles I will discuss each of the steps that I believe have led me to a place in my
journey where I am fulfilled in my life, accepting of my limitations, creative in my approach to manage my pain and ready to help others achieve their best life.

I will leave you to ponder what I believe these steps are, recognizing that your path will not be the same as mine. As you think about these steps, consider how these may apply to your journey.

1) One day at a time.
2) Focus on what you can control.
3) Do not compare your journey to others.
4) Allow yourself to grieve and feel the feelings but don’t get stuck there.
5) Make time to rest and self reflect. Prioritize self care – physically and mentally.
6) Concentrate on what you CAN do and what you DO enjoy. Seek joy every day.
7) Accept that challenges and setbacks will happen.
8) Embrace fear. Be prepared. Be YOU.
9) Determine your “Why” and “For Who”.
10) Open your mind and learn. Seek reliable experienced sources of learning.
11) Practice and work hard on your strategies – practice with dedication like a warrior.
12) Live your life as a warrior from the crack of dawn to midnight.
13) Never forget there is more to you than pain.
14) Find your village, your safe place, “your CWTCH”

Wishing you a “CWTCH” kind of day
Barb Thornton
CWTCH Community Ambassador & Co-Creator