Sitting With a Loved One in Pain
![]()
Dear Nicholas, There’s a special kind of pain in watching someone you love hurt. Likely all of us have had this experience. And there is no painkiller that touches the one watching their loved one in pain.
If it’s prolonged and repeated, there comes a fierce tensing up in reaction, as if to defend him, and
a mind-numbing that feels like fog.
![]()
Husband Bob is leaving Duke Hospital after a pretty rough week. He’s had a long list of troubles with his vertebrae and hip joints. It’s medical guesswork to know which is the biggest source of pain.
The First Shock
The first time I was with Bob during an awful medical procedure was about a year ago. I clung to his arm with both hands and cried through his whole experience. When it was over, he seemed fine. I continued to sob. In fact, I was just getting going, building up steam. He said, “Wish I could cry like that.” He wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. His doctor said, “Her heart hurts because you hurt.”
Now he has been fending off big pain for weeks. I’ve stopped crying. But it’s still hard. And I draw back from helping him move or doing anything useful that would briefly hurt him more. Overriding that is an important skill in nursing. I’m pretty much useless for anything but being company and distraction. I take comfort in the fact that he so values that. We’re both treasuring still having this time together.
Intense and Intimate
![]()

Almost had a replay this week of that incident a year ago. A nurse asked me to go with him for an injection into his hip joint. Long, big-gauge needle into the center of the joint, all visible on live-action X-ray. I told myself I wouldn’t look at the screen.
But then the doctor said I couldn’t stay in the room. She’d once had a family member faint and fall to the floor during the procedure. At that point, she had two patients instead of one.
So I waited out in the hall. Afterwards, Bob said it had gone fine, didn’t hurt all that bad. And it has helped him. He’s feeling a bit better, though still not going out for track. (Above, one of my favorite pictures of him, celebrating our 15th anniversary. We’re now at 42.)
The Exhale
Now that he’s more comfortable, I feel as if I’ve had a big gym workout. My muscles are sore. Maybe I’m starting to relax, for the moment anyway.
Wishing health and happiness to all,
Peggy
Also, people at Duke Hospital have been so good to us that I feel inspired to be nice to everyone I see and do everything with excellence and great care.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tags: awful medical procedure, big pain, Duke Hospital, fending off, heart hurts, kind of pain, mind-numbing, sitting with a loved one, skill in nursing, someone you love, source of pain, tensing up, watching someone you love


Comments
Peggy, I’m so sorry both of you are having troubles. I get it. With my cancer last year, my husband had a hard time knowing what to do. This year, he has prostate cancer and I’m in his shoes.
But the overall love you have for each other is comfort in another level. Even when we can only sit and hold hands, the shelter of a long time love does more than we even imagine.
Hugs
Gail
Thanks, Gail. I’m relying on that long-time love. And I’m sorry about both your cancers.
Sending you and Bob as much love as one can stuff into this text!! Big hugs!
We do thank you, Tam!
Don’t underestimate yourself. “Being company and distraction” is far from being useless. It’s probably a lot more useful than a lot of the medical stuff the two of you are dealing with. Take care.
Thanks for this helpful reminder, Jim. I hope things are good with you. BTW, Ancestry just re-affirmed for me how Irish my roots are.
I agree with Jim. And I know how painful it can be for the caregiver. Hang in there, Peggy. I’m sure your never- ending love is a great comfort to Bob.
I know this is something you know much about, Judy. Thank you.
I am so sorry that both of you are having to go through this really painful time. I send all the good wishes I have for both of you, Love, Lee.
Thank you so much, Lee. We both appreciate all your good wishes.
I get it.
I think most of us have had to deal with this, certainly parents do.
I’m so sorry, Peggy. I’ve been thinking about you lately and meaning to reach out and see how you and Bob are doing. Any chance we can connect in person in January? I can come to you. Tuck
Yes, January. That’ll be wonderful. Let’s wait and see how soon Bob will get out of rehab. Wishing all y’all Merry Christmas!
And I can find you at rehab too. 🙂
Sending love and the hope of a bit of joy and peace this Christmas in the midst of all you and Bob are going through,
You are so kind, Tuck! You always have been.
Sending all the best to you and to Bob!
Thanks, Billie. I hope things are good with kiddos out you way.
Just being there is often the best thing you can do. You’re on this journey together. Wishing you the peace of God, with love
Thank you, Sally. You’re right about our traveling together and this experience does keep us close in all kinds of ways.
My heart hurts for you and Bob — witnessing a loved one in pain is torture. But I love your love for each other. It means even more to me now that Bill and I accidentally spent an anniversary with you two. Sending love and healing vibes.
Thank you so much, Mary. He’s out of the hospital and in rehab now and regaining strength, not hurting. That was one of our best anniversaries. Thank you for celebrating with us!
Thanks for your sweet message, Peggy! Thinking of you today, your birthday. Hope you and Bob both have a great day!
Thank you, Mary. We’re doing well.