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Doing It Well

Kind Chemist Wife: Musings at 3 a.m. by Sarah Bigham
Pski’s Porch Publishing, 2020

Interviewer: Riley Breitbarth

I really enjoyed the way you approached the topic of chronic pain in Kind Chemist Wife. As someone who has chronic pain myself, I found myself refreshed by the matter-of-fact way it was discussed, and how there was no effort really to find a “bigger meaning” in suffering. How intentional was that choice, and was it in response to other accounts of chronic pain or just pain in general within medical narratives?

First, I am very sorry that you live with chronic pain. I hope you have found interventions that bring some measure of relief and that you have supportive people around you. I know how draining pain can be and how it disrupts any notion of a “normal” sleep cycle. (I saw that email you sent after 3 a.m. and laughed because I hadn’t gone to bed much before that!) If you ever want to talk about treatments or possibilities or frustrations, know that I am here.

As someone who has lived with pain, every day, for years, I have very little patience for narratives written by authors who refer to those diagnosed with cancer or other potentially terminal and painful conditions as “losing battles” when they die. Let’s be honest. Some days when you are in pain, the biggest accomplishment is taking a shower. Or making it up the stairs. Or keeping lunch down. When you are in terrible, intractable pain, dying is not losing a war. Dying is peace. (Please know I am not suicidal – although I think I was when the pain was at its worst. I am just a realist when it comes to pain.) While I am a great pretender during in-person interactions with others because I am a social person and love to see people, I have learned that humans can be easily distracted by someone else’s pain, and I have a better time if I just fake that I am fine for a while. But there is nothing to be gained by trying to sell readers on the idea that pain makes you find your true self or any such nonsense. Pain makes you hurt and frustrated and angry and miserable. 

There is more to be gained by telling the truth. It might be hard for my loved ones to read some of my work, but it is real. I have also found myself angry at some doctors and healthcare providers who were either afraid of people in pain, tired of dealing with people in pain, thought people talking about “pain” were drug-seeking addicts, etc. These practitioners seemed to think that if it was “just” pain that you had, it wasn’t going to kill you so they, as healthcare providers, didn’t need to be all that concerned. I have also noticed a trend on some of the discussion boards I follow. Participants were hearing from doctors that certain treatments or meds or interventions worked and that patients got better. But that wasn’t actually the case. Those patients just didn’t return to those doctors. The doctors interpreted the patients’ absence as successful treatment when, in fact, it was the patients deciding they would no longer put up with providers who didn’t listen or had no more options to help them.

I have served as a mentor of sorts to others who live with chronic pain or rare conditions, and this has connected me with people in my community, in other states, and even other countries. No matter where we live, pain is challenging. The pain of medical conditions is one kind of pain. The pain of being dismissed by those who are supposedly in a position to heal you is another kind of pain, as is the pain caused by family members and friends who start to exclude you or think your issues are all in your head.

The good news is that I have less pain now than when I started writing the book. Is it gone? No. But it is a heck of a lot better, and I have reliable tools to help when the pain flares. I have accepted that pain will be part of my life for the duration. But I have effective treatments and medications; a support team of providers; and a squad of helpful and motivated family, friends, and colleagues. Therefore, I have hope. I know that I have many avenues of privilege that have allowed me to access the doctors and interventions that have provided relief. It has taken an enormous amount of money, support, tenacity, research, and persistence to get where I am today. My heart aches for those who are struggling and do not have the resources and privilege I have. We can and should do better as a society in providing care to those who are hurting. 

Kind Chemist Wife read as a sort of experimental memoir to me, but you also included many other people’s stories within the narrative. Talk about the decision to include these and how and when you did so. 

An “experimental memoir” is a perfect way to describe it! I wanted the book to reflect my life, and my life has turned out the way it has because of my interactions with others. I am endlessly fascinated by people and find that I seem to have a quality that encourages them to tell me their stories. Some people tell me all kinds of things. In the book, I refer to them as “my special people,” but, in actuality, we are all special people. I hope that everyone has someone they can tell things to, but unfortunately, I know there are people who feel alone. Everyone has secrets, but we don’t all have someone to share them with. Frank Warren’s PostSecret project is one that fascinates me. I share a book from that project in my classes. 

I was wondering what genre you personally would file Kind Chemist Wife under, as it seems to be a combination of creative nonfiction, poetry, and prose. 

Classification seems very important in our society. Everyone wants to know where something “fits.” But there are lots of things that don’t fit, and isn’t that the beauty of life? I had trouble effectively explaining my book to potential publishers. Pski’s Porch Publishing saw the value in what I created, and I am grateful for their support, and for the work that small presses like them bring to readers. Pski’s Porch specializes in quirky books. Their motto is: “Books for people who like people that like books.” Perfect!

One of the things I have heard from some readers is that they appreciate the way my book is put together because they can read one section or entry or page at a time. The book doesn’t require an up-front or ongoing commitment of time. They like that the book is something they can read when they have a few moments after the kids are asleep and before the washer cycle ends or in between medical treatments. That makes me smile. We can all benefit from ingesting some creative snacks throughout our day.

Do you feel like there is a call to action in Kind Chemist Wife, and if so what do you think it would be? If not, perhaps you could discuss any other purposes you had in writing this book. 

I wrote the book to tell my story, or at least a portion of my story, which I hoped would both explain who I am (and why I am the way I am) and allow readers to see that people with chronic illness are multifaceted individuals who deserve compassion, respect, and care. I purposefully structured the book to not start with pain and medical issues, but instead introduce them later in the narrative. 

Too many times as a patient I have felt written off or dismissed. I have learned in my own professional life as an educator, that it is much harder to ignore someone if you know that person’s story. I have taught at a community college for nearly 20 years and the students inspire me every day. I firmly believe in the open admissions concept and the educational possibilities we provide to all who seek them. Where Smart Lives, an essay in the book, is one of my favorites. Being part of someone’s educational journey is an honor. The work is not easy, and sometimes leaves me exhausted and in tears, but it resonates deeply with me. 

If I had to encapsulate the call to action that I strive to live my life by, it is that the world needs more:

  • Education,
  • Kindness and compassion,
  • Changes to the things that are wrong and that are hurting people, and
  • Help for those who are suffering. 

I hope the book illustrates my efforts on these fronts. We may not all be able to do all these things, but, surely, we can each do one. And do it well.

Sarah Bigham teaches, paints, and writes in Maryland, where she lives with her kind chemist wife, their three independent cats, and an unwieldy herb garden. Her work appears in Bacopa, Entropy, Fourth & Sycamore, Pulse: Voices from the Heart of Medicine, Rabbit, skirt! Magazine, and elsewhere.

Riley Breitbarth is pursuing a B.A. in writing at Point Loma Nazarene University. She is passionate about reading and writing in almost every genre, but especially fiction and nonfiction, and especially if it’s funny! She also serves on the staff of Driftwood, a creative arts journal. 

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