Kelsey Roseth the founder of Our PainPoints, as well as a full-time freelance writer and communications consultant based in Duluth, MN. Her bylines include Birds & Blooms, Cool Green Science, Culture Trip, Outdoor News, Make It Minnesota, Fargo Forum, The Woman Today, Northern Wilds, and Duluth/Superior Living, among others.
All is takes is one minute.
One minute between the ecstatic rush of getting an awesome opportunity at work — to the devastating collapse of remembering your chronic pain, and realizing you likely won’t be able to make the most of it.
Today folks, I need to vent.
I’m a bit obsessed with Masoor Dal right now — it’s a go-to recipe for my husband and I, and we often eat this meal once per week.
Masoor Dal, made here with Split Brown Lentils, is a staple of vegetarian and Indian cuisine. It can be made ahead, and it tastes excellent reheated. I discovered this Indian dish when attempting to pursue an anti-inflammatory diet, and it’s become one of our favorite options. We serve it with warm naan. To make things easy, we buy Stonefire Original Naan from the grocery, then simply pop it in the oven.
Side note: If you’re new to naan, get ready for your obsession to begin. This stuff is the bread of my dreams.
The jury is still out on whether or not dairy products cause inflammation — or help counteract inflammation in the body.
The National Center for Biotechnology Information cites an intensive study concluding that “Dairy products, in particular fermented products, have anti-inflammatory properties in humans not suffering from allergy to milk, in particular in subjects with metabolic disorders.” And the Arthritis Foundation said that, while there are conflicting research findings, “some people with arthritis and related conditions find that avoiding certain foods can reduce flares.”
When I began switching to an anti-inflammatory diet, I didn’t know what to think. I was desperate to stop the consuming nerve pain in my legs, so I thought I’d give a non-dairy diet a try. And it worked. I gave up most dairy products and shortly after began incorporating more whole grains into my diet, while ditching some processed foods. And my nerve pain is down. The diet helps! I can’t pinpoint what exactly is helping reduce inflammation, but it sure is having a positive effect on my body.
I’m not perfect, and I definitely sneak ice cream here and there. But for the most part, giving up dairy was a lot easier than I expected. Here’s how I made the switch:
When you’re deep in the depths of depression and experiencing life-impacting side effects (including anxiety and exhaustion) — it can be nearly impossible to complete the work that’s required of you. I’ve been in this situation more times than I can count.
As an individual who suffers from chronic pain, I’ve worked while depressed for years — and it can be completely, utterly miserable. My depression closely follows my chronic pain fluctuations. The more pain I’m in, the easier it is for me to sink into negative thought patterns. When I feel my worst, I want nothing more than to collapse on the couch with my pup, close the blinds, turn off my cell phone, and disappear for a while. Yet most of the time, that’s impossible, due to work, family commitments, and my never-ending to-do list.
Over the years, I’ve found ways to make working while depressed more manageable, and it has been an absolute blessing. I’ve learned to embrace my emotional and physical flaws rather than hide from them, and I work hard to focus on self-care so that when depression hits — I’m ready for it.
The list below contains my go-to solutions for working while depressed. It’s terrifying to open myself up like this, but I’m sharing these tips in the hope that an idea below will help you manage your depression in a healthy way. We’re all human, we all face immense challenges, and we’re all in this together. In the comments, I’d love to hear about your self-care routines, too.
There’s often a deep void in those left with chronic low back pain after an accident, injury, or illness—a long-term struggle with your identity once beloved hobbies and interests appear to be out of reach.
Through the years of heartwarming progress and disappointing mistakes during my own chronic pain journey, I’ve discovered successful ways to continue camping despite the pain. Motivated by our stunning local landscape, I’m constantly seeking out modifications and adaptations so that I, too, can experience the brilliance of nature—in my own way.
The onset of my chronic low back pain was 2010. Prior to the diagnosis, I was a healthy woman in her early 20s with a passion for the outdoors. I studied at Montana State University in Bozeman, and spent more time exploring, hiking, snowboarding and camping than I did in class. I moved back to my home state of North Dakota one year before my diagnosis, and lived a busy, active life.
My chronic low back pain began with a lifting injury, and at first, my doctors and I didn’t expect a long-term problem. I pursued physical therapy and other treatments vigorously, and continued to live my life with minor adjustments as I waited for the pain to vanish.
That time never came.
For years, I struggled with that loss of identity. The activities I enjoyed, the energy I once had, the positivity I was known for—I thought all was gone.
When my husband George and I moved to the North Shore of Lake Superior from Fargo about four years ago, we sought peace and fulfillment from a life lived in the northwoods. We moved here to be close to the lake and become part of a more active, outdoor community. Since my pain was limiting, George often explored our region solo.
Shortly after we moved here, my doctors and I switched my pain management to focus on chronic care rather than acute pain relief.
I learned techniques and tricks to help me become stronger, more positive, and happier. I picked up new hobbies. I became an avid birdwatcher, and began to practice origami and calligraphy from my recliner. As my positivity increased, the desire to test my limits surfaced.
Today, I’m still not able to walk far, sit for extended periods, carry much weight, bend and flex unnaturally, and lay on uncomfortable surfaces. That doesn’t mean I can’t go camping.
Over the years, I’ve carefully and thoroughly developed a comfortable system for enjoying my favorite activities—in small doses. George and I recently went to Sleeping Giant Provincial Park, just east of Thunder Bay, for a long weekend together. I may not be able to experience a camping trip like he can, but I can certainly participate, and I absolutely love that.
Whether you suffer personally from chronic pain, or you have a family member who has limitations, it’s entirely possible to enjoy the overwhelming beauty of nature. I can attest to that. It may not be to the same degree as others, but it can be perfect in its own right.
My husband and I manage to make camping with chronic pain work, and here’s how:
We have a detailed spreadsheet to help us prepare for a weekend of camping, which includes all of my go-to tools for pain management. I always assume the worst-case scenario.
To prepare, I gather my medication, including my occasionally-used prescriptions that can help manage pain. I pack a heating pad, TENS unit and an extra pillow to prop underneath my legs as I lie down. At times, I bring Icy Hot or a Theracane for a simple distraction from pain. Thorough preparation helps ease my anxiety heading into the trip.
Tent camping is within reach for those with chronic low back pain, if you modify the experience to your comfort. Over the years, George and I have picked up a three-inch-thick sleeping pad, a reclining cot for resting by the campfire, a cheap folding chair to keep my back at a 90-degree angle, and we have a pop-up tent to keep the bugs out. Any tools or relaxing activities you own that increase your comfort, bring them along. It’s worth it.
Any time we travel or pursue activities, we go slow and take breaks often. If we’re driving, we schedule time to stop and stretch. If we’re on a hike, my husband carries a hammock to serve as my emergency nap spot for when the exhaustion from chronic pain kicks in. We plan our day to include a mixture of standing, sitting and walking to ensure I don’t overdo it.
I sit out when needed and encourage George to continue his more vigorous pursuits. Know your limits and don’t overdo it. It’s easy for that to happen (this is a daily struggle for me), but keep trying. If we’re doing something that may overdo it, I plan for a half-day of rest following. It’s actually become one of my favorite parts of camping—solo napping in the woods while listening to the birds.
Over the years, I’ve identified low-impact activities that I can enjoy. I’ve become an obsessive birdwatcher and a sucker for slow interpretive hikes, taking time to appreciate the history of the area we’re camping in. George appeases me as I tour cemeteries and other historical sites to study the area’s past. We enjoy walking slow and capturing beautiful photographs, and teach each other how to further develop our artistic eye.
Do I miss intense activity in the woods? Absolutely. But I’ve accepted my limits and find extreme joy in what I can do, not what I can’t.
It’s most important that for us, those with chronic low back pain, go easy on ourselves. I celebrate my small victories as much as I can. I’m pleased when I can participate at camp and wash dishes or help start a fire. I take time post-trip to journal, reflect and share the news with my family when I’ve reached a milestone. I celebrate when I take a short hike solo. And I’m still wildly happy about our first successful camping trip of the year.
No chronic pain circumstances are the same, and while these techniques work for me, they may not work for you. However, my hope is that you discover simple steps to help you experience the outdoors in a way that is unique to you. It’s within reach and I’m rooting for you.
Originally published in Northern Wilds Magazine.
You know as well as I do that the poor food choices we make aren’t doing us favors in regard to pain!
Those of us with physical or mental pain can crave comforting macaroni and cheese or crunchy nachos topped with ground beef, sour cream and salsa. Personally, I get massive cravings for plain buttered pasta — you know, the kind a kid would eat.
That being said, I’m trying to push past the cravings and take more control of my pain by reducing inflammation in my body. Here’s what I intend to eat to get started.
According to Scientific American, “Cocoa is good for your heart because of fermentation by gut bacteria, creating anti-inflammatory compounds that improve blood vessel function.”
Black beans are bursting with antioxidants that fight inflammation and are a rich source of fiber. Here are some healthy recipes containing black beans.
Fatty fish, like wild salmon, have anti-inflammatory properties and are packed with omega-3 fatty acids, an alternative supplement to help treat arthritis.
Pineapples contain bromelain, a protein-digesting enzyme and natural anti-inflammatory.
Blueberries are high in carotenoids, an organic pigment found in fruit that reduce inflammation.
If you’re interested in learning more about inflammation and how it affects your pain, or learning more about anti-inflammatory diets, I found this Live Science article helpful.
Before we begin, let’s be clear — living with chronic pain means I’m trapped inside a body which unexpectedly turns on me, causing at-times torturous pain throughout my low back and legs. Living with this condition for seven years has robbed me of my youthful twenties and placed some of my dreams far out of reach.
Chronic pain challenges and changes me daily, forcing me to explore the depth of my mental, physical and emotional strength.
In 2010 I injured my low back while lifting a table. At the time, I was a career-driven perfectionist in my mid-twenties. I had extremely high energy and, at times, impossible expectations of myself.
Prior to my graduation from Minnesota State University-Moorhead, I was hired as a news anchor and multimedia journalist at Fargo-Moorhead’s highest-rated TV station. My dreams of climbing the ranks — moving from station-to-station, increasing market size until I received a coveted reporting position at a national network — was absolutely within reach. I was ambitious, eager to report news with vigor, and ready to share intimate stories of community members with compassion and understanding.
When I injured my back, my physical health quickly deteriorated. Low back pain evolved into nerve pain in my legs — eventually leading to two back surgeries, numerous injections, a dozen rounds of physical therapy, and a chronic pain condition with no apparent cure. I’m no longer able to work 50+ hours in an emotionally and physically challenging job.
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Perhaps what’s most important for me is that chronic pain has made me aware of how precious life is, and how important it is to pursue that in life which makes me feel alive —hiking with my husband, writing as much as possible, and exploring our beautiful world. It’s nearly impossible, or at least unbearable, to be in pain and not be doing something you love.
Because of this realization, I’m able to survive as a freelance multimedia journalist and writer, with a supportive husband and family guiding me along my journey as an entrepreneur.
If you’re suffering from any type of pain — physical or emotional — I urge you to take a moment each day to practice gratefulness. Perhaps journal briefly each night and write three positive things that happened during your day. Or, take time to appreciate the lovely little things in life: soft snowfall in the winter, watching a bird preen in your backyard, or witnessing the excitement of your puppy when you return home.
Gratefulness and positivity cannot be turned on with a switch; it must be practiced with patience and commitment. Even if depression is wearing you down, a simple practice of gratefulness is absolutely within reach.