Connie, a 12-year old stray dog with advanced osteo-arthritis turned out to be a pain management guru.
When Connie's whining, sleeplessness, and need for attention was deemed to be separation anxiety and her personality and personal choices were viewed as attention getting, Connie was actually waging a war with pain that was more intense than her very loving caregivers knew.
When Connie's meds were increased her face softened, her hair laid flatter, she slept peacefully, she whined less and her exuberant, people-loving, hard-working personality surged forth: she walked faster, she pulled on the leash, she walked further until she hurt herself, and then, and only then, did she lay down and rest.
When her pain meds were decreased her pain increased, her sleep was interrupted, she wandered around the house at night, she whined more, was capable of less...you get the drift.
There was no psychological overlay to her behaviour: Connie was unaware of medications or dosage. It was simple: the worse she felt the less she could do, the better she felt the more she did-- she did what she loved until it hurt and then she rested. This is animal nature, it is our nature: when we feel better we do better.
For those of us managing extreme pain, including mental/emotional pain, consider Connie's situation and stop beating yourself up. Walk a mile in Connie's paws, she does her best every day, when she can do more she does more and sometimes she endures great pain and long recovery because she simply must satisfy her spirit's need to do what she loves.
That is the nature of pain management. While Connie's first choice is to follow her spirit and do what she loves, people take care of business until it takes them down and they leave the rest, messy house, dirty dishes, lost connections. Connie's caregivers and our families and friends help us when they ride along with the ups and downs of the pain wave and they do with us when we can, do for us when we can't and don't punish us when we shouldn't have done it but we did it anyways.