Gaining a New Perspective: Reflections From a Loved One

Perspective. It’s a notorious word and has probably been the source of some of the greatest arguments and misunderstandings of all time. It also can be a great unifier. The question of pain and tolerance is one that is beyond subjective. We can’t understand how someone feels, we can’t walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, but we can gain perspective with our own experiences.

Trying to be supportive

I try to always be supportive and understanding of the challenges my loved ones with psoriatic arthritis (PsA) face, but the truth of the matter is I literally have no clue what it’s like. I don’t know how to help, I don’t know how they feel and I never will. It would be wrong of me to claim I do. I have been blessed with incredible health the majority of my life so much so that the only surgery I have ever had led my blood pressure to skyrocket so high out of fear of the unknown that they had to give me the max allowable anti-anxiety meds to calm me down. The one filling I’ve ever had I treated like it was the most elaborate dental surgery imaginable. In essence, I’m an admitted big baby when it comes to this stuff. There’s no excuse for it, but at least I admit it and my perspective on pain has been built from a place of being scared and not actual anguish.

As a result, I tend to lean towards feeling it must be unimaginable to go through what my loved ones go through with the paralyzing and unpredictable nature of PsA. I try to help, be supportive and feel for what they are going through but the truth of the matter is I have not even one iota of a clue what a good day vs. a bad day is.

Walking in their shoes

Coincidentally, I recently was faced with two beyond minor inconveniences that oddly changed my perspective slightly. They didn’t increase my ability to understand what my friends feel but it did give me a teeny peek into the things that they have to consider and navigate when maneuvering a flare or a bad day and it was beyond eye-opening.

From years of working out and rarely stretching appropriately, my right hip has become seized and I have had to subject myself to some pretty un-fun professional stretch sessions. The pain of these sessions, in my mind, are unbearable (remember I’m a total baby) and only last about 30 minutes - not days, weeks, years. Secondly, when I’m done sometimes I have a bit of a limp from it. This, again, is temporary and getting better every time and in a few weeks I won’t have to do these anymore beyond maintenance. Simultaneously, I developed a crazy pigment issue on my back which is completely treatable and curable with some topical cream. It’s not painful, it doesn’t itch or flake, it just looks funky. As someone who loves to wear exposed shoulder and back baring outfits this was devastating to me. Again, I’m not proud of my behavior, but it is my perspective. I’m contorting my arms twice per day to reach to apply the cream and it’s slowly going away and will eventually be a distant memory and reminder to keep my skin dry. It’s nothing more than a nuisance, but it drives me crazy.

These two minor instances, because of their nature, gave me pause to really think about what my friends go through. The many things most of us take for granted like choosing what outfit to wear. I suddenly have a slightly expanded perspective.

Sharing my perspective with others

Funnily, when I shared these hiccups and my frustrations with the slight damper they put on my daily existence with my best friend who is affected by PsA she didn’t cock her head as if to say, “Seriously?” She didn’t pull a, “Imagine how I feel” or a "Snap out of it." Rather, she tried to have perspective on what I was going through and was completely supportive. She’s the far wiser of the two of us for sure!

The biggest thing this whole experience has taught me is far beyond trying to walk someone else’s path, but rather to always take a moment to think about each person’s perspective on any aspect of their lives. Each person’s world varies in size and experience and, consequently, our perceptions are vastly different. If we keep that in mind, regardless of what we are going through and to what degree, we can be far more supportive and understanding of each other.