“Pain Don’t Hurt”: What Patrick Swayze Got Right (and Wrong)

April 30, 2025

Photo by Noémi Macavei-Katócz on Unsplash

Before I jump into a medical update, I want to take a moment to explain something, especially for my friends, family, and those following this journey closely.

In my last post, I wrote about the pain I’ve been experiencing. Some of you reached out afterward, and I could hear the concern in your voices and messages. That means more to me than you know.

So here’s a bit of insight into how I write and process these moments. I hope it eases some of your worry. But if it doesn’t? Please reach out. Text. Email. I truly don’t mind. I’d rather talk it through than have you sitting with unanswered questions.

Writing Through Pain

When I write, I often start with scrap, quick, messy notes jotted down in the middle of the night. Just a phrase, an image, or a sentence that captures what I was feeling at that moment.

Later, I return to those fragments, not to relive the moment, in this case the pain but to make sense of it. To give it shape. Writing helps me understand what felt too heavy to carry in the moment. It gives me distance and clarity.

So if a post sounds like I’m still in the thick of something, odds are I’m not. I probably felt it days earlier, scribbled down a thought at 2 a.m., and came back to it later with a steadier hand and a clearer head.

That’s my process. That’s how I keep walking the path, even when it’s hard. If my last post sounded intense, it’s because it was, at the time. But I’m okay now.

A Moment of Light

Today, during chemo, I sat in a chair as sunlight poured in and out of the windows. It played hide and seek with the clouds, but when it landed on me, I paused and noticed.

That warmth. That stillness. That life.

Maybe it’s because I’m a Leo, a Sun sign, but I’ve always believed in the healing power of being in the direct sunlight, even if it was for a few minutes. There’s something sacred about sunlight. Even Superman needed it.

Kal-El, the Last Son of Krypton, drew his strength from Earth’s yellow sun. It restored him, reminded him of who he was. Without it, he grew weaker.

We may not have Kryptonian DNA, but we all have our own version of sunlight, those small moments or forces that recharge us. For me, it’s the real thing. The warmth on my face reminds me I’m alive. Not just being treated, but living.

Medical Update

My weight is down ten pounds. Maria and my nurse practitioner are keeping a close eye on it. They’d like me somewhere in the mid-190s. I would like to be in the low-180s. But honestly, that’s not the priority right now.

Right now, it’s about nutrition and calories. I need fuel to make this beast go. I’ll worry about the weight later.

As for the biopsy, we’re hoping to have some results next week. Once we know more, I’ll share it here.

Closing Thoughts

Yes, pain hurts. Despite Patrick Swayze’s iconic line in Road House, pain isn’t something you can just brush off with handsome stoicism. It’s real. It lingers. And sometimes, it hides in the quiet.

But we don’t heal by ignoring it.

Healing comes from naming the pain, from stepping into the light, and from being willing to talk about it, even when it’s messy.

If something I wrote ever worries you, ask me. I promise, I’m not trying to alarm anyone. Just trying to stay honest and maybe offer a little insight along the way.

Thanks for walking this path with me.