Pain. Is it just a pain, or a chance to do good?

A friend and I were discussing history at lunch this week. That makes us sound “academic,” I suppose, or philosophical, but our topic was not American History or World History, it was golf history.

As it turns out, this friend (Dennis) and I have a lot of things in common. Which is great fun to discover, since we’ve known each other less than three weeks. That lunch was only the second time we’d met in person.

It started with a mutual friend Dennis has known since they were in college together, whom I’ve known since we were in high school together. That friend called me and said his former college pal was coming to the Phoenix area. He knew we were both golfers, and thought I might be able to get him on a course somewhere.

He wasn’t bringing his clubs, I learned. He was coming to town with his son-in-law, who was on his way here to take part in a clinical trial using immunotherapy to treat pancreatic cancer.

News like that is the verbal equivalent of a gut punch. In fact, I shared a bit of his story with a table of six men. When I said “pancreatic cancer,” one man’s head dropped to his chest. He didn’t know the patient, but that didn’t matter.

Empathy takes over, even if there is only a smidgen of the stuff residing in you, and you feel it. Pancreatic cancer is rarely detected early, giving it more time to spread and therefore harder to stop.

But the fellow who is ill has several things going for him. He is young and otherwise healthy. He is a man of faith and hope, with a family that is dedicated to supporting him. And he has a medical team that is treating him with medications that will, ideally, help his own body fight and survive.

Just a couple of weeks in, the immunotherapy is showing good signs in some, but not all, ways. We continue to pray.

A trip to Phoenix

When the family found out about the treatment option, they immediately applied. Almost as quickly, the patient was accepted. The next day they were on a plane headed for Phoenix.

Less than a week later, I was on the phone with Dennis, the patient’s father-in-law. He and his wife are here with their daughter and son-in-law and two grandchildren.

This is a family affair, as such illnesses often are, and difficult in different ways for every person. I know all that from both personal and professional experience. So I knew how I could help: golf.

I mean who doesn’t know that Phoenix is a golf mecca? Nobody. But who knows how hard it is to get on a golf course in Phoenix this time of year? Hard, is the answer.

So I invited Dennis to come to my golf club and play as my guest, which he did.

This was me practicing what I preach. It was a simple, obvious, delightful, and rewarding way to do good.

It is good to be empathetic. It is good to pray for a patient and the patient’s family. Of course it is good to support them emotionally and even financially if they need that. And, when the opportunity is there and appropriate, it is good to get involved.

So it was that on a Monday Dennis, the father-in-law, made his way (via Waymo!) to my club. We connected, we had lunch, we played golf, and we got — at least for a few hours — his mind off of the evil of cancer and onto the good of golf.

Pain is a pain, but…

It was good for him. And it was good for me.

People ask me, “How can I do good?”

I say, “All around you are people who are in some kind of pain. It may be their pain, or it may belong to someone else and they’re sharing it. The pain might be small or great, acute or chronic. It isn’t your job to fix the pain, but if you want to do good, give those people some “pain relief,” even for a little while.”

Pain is not always a bad thing, nor is it always caused by evil.

There is a disorder called CIPA: Congenital Insensitivity to Pain. I’ve been aware of it for a long time because of a fictional story I once read. Recently I’ve seen a couple of ads for a new show that features a character with this condition.

It’s one of those disorders you think (at first) you might like to have. From everything I’ve read, you don’t. You would much rather be able to feel pain.

You might argue with me the next time you stub your toe, but pain alerts you to the need for help. Also, every time you do stub your toe, you become a little more careful with those toes of yours.

Most of us, in fact, try hard to avoid all kinds of pain, whether physical, spiritual, or mental. When it finds us, we learn we can bear more than we thought. Still, we long for some relief.

Good

I remember my dad saying, “I can’t wait to go to the dentist, because it feels so good when he quits.”

We love pain relief, and those who provide it. So why not become a provider?

You don’t have to be clergy, or a counselor, you just have to be kind. Actually, you only just have to be “there” with the person in pain. Your very presence is more comforting than most people can imagine.

In the case of my new friend, the opportunity to be a pain reliever came to me. I wasn’t looking for it, but I knew it when I saw it. We all do, if we are paying attention. The question is, what do we do about it?

By the way, helping ease someone else’s pain often does a world of wonder for your own. You know, just in case you have any.

Do good. It’s in you!