A friend of mine in college had a story about a dislocated elbow. The conversation was early in the diagnostic process, possibly over the phone:
Friend: “I have a dislocated elbow.” Nurse: “On a scale of one to ten what’s your pain?” Friend: “Seven.” Nurse: “Then you don’t have a dislocated elbow. Those are very painful and people say ten when it happens.” Friend: “Kidney stones are a nine. I’m saving ten for something worse than that.” Nurse: “Oh… [stops to think] Then I guess you probably do have a dislocated elbow.”
My answer at one point (when I was in a rehab center recovering from a stroke) was something like “if 10 is, say, having a burning building collapse around me, this is a 3. Maybe a 2. I’m not sure… I’ve never had a burning building collapse around me, but I’d expect it sucks.”
Eventually I calibrated my answers against the pain meds they were giving me and just started giving them numbers.
A friend of mine in college had a story about a dislocated elbow. The conversation was early in the diagnostic process, possibly over the phone:
Friend: “I have a dislocated elbow.”
Nurse: “On a scale of one to ten what’s your pain?”
Friend: “Seven.”
Nurse: “Then you don’t have a dislocated elbow. Those are very painful and people say ten when it happens.”
Friend: “Kidney stones are a nine. I’m saving ten for something worse than that.”
Nurse: “Oh… [stops to think] Then I guess you probably do have a dislocated elbow.”
My answer at one point (when I was in a rehab center recovering from a stroke) was something like “if 10 is, say, having a burning building collapse around me, this is a 3. Maybe a 2. I’m not sure… I’ve never had a burning building collapse around me, but I’d expect it sucks.”
Eventually I calibrated my answers against the pain meds they were giving me and just started giving them numbers.