EUREKA!

I have found it!

Archimedes was a scientist, inventor, and all-around genius madman who lived in the Greek city of Syracuse on the island of Sicily. His discoveries in math are too numerous to list, but they laid the foundation for much of the math homework sweated over by scholars through the millennia. The ingenious devices he created bear his name: The Archimedes screw is a simple device that’s still used around the world to easily raise water to a higher level. The claw of Archimedes was a crane with a giant hook that could rip attacking ships out of the water. It’s said he invented a death ray (the Archimedes death ray, natch) that used mirrors to focus sunlight on enemy vessels, setting them on fire. Archimedes didn’t just destroy warships; he designed one called the Syracusia. It was the largest ship built in antiquity, big enough for a gymnasium and a temple to Aphrodite. This guy seems like he was a barrel of monkeys. Really wise monkeys.

Archimedes’ most famous exploit involved the crown of King Hiero. The monarch had supplied pure gold for the royal headgear but suspected that the metalsmiths might have pocketed some of the gold and substituted silver instead. He posed the problem to Archimedes, who pondered long and hard about how to supply a royal answer.

One day, as Archimedes slipped into his bath, he realized that the water level was rising; he was displacing an amount of water equal to the volume of his submerged body. If the crown were placed in water and the rise in level was carefully measured, he would know the volume of the crown. If the crown displaced more water than the same amount of pure gold, that meant that some of the super-dense gold had been replaced with a less-dense metal. Archimedes was so excited by this realization that he jumped out of his bath and ran down the street stark naked, his frank and beans whistling in the wind, shouting “Eureka!” (“I have found it!”)

Archimedes with clothes on.

Archimedes had his bath, but my moment of epiphany was inspired by a lowly mosquito bite.

One summer I was invited to a swanky dinner party at the home of longtime family friends. It was a gorgeous evening in their lush Berkshire garden. After cocktails, I drew the long straw and had the great luck to be seated next to Yo-Yo Ma, the world-renowned cellist. As we exchanged hellos, he inquired about the large white patch I had stuck on my collarbone.

This ungainly accoutrement is the size of the Jack of Hearts, and I get asked about it quite frequently. It’s definitely not a fashion choice; it supplies me with pain medication through my skin.

The wise, wonderful, and supremely talented Yo-Yo Ma in concert. By World Economic Forum from Cologny, Switzerland.

I explained to Mr. Ma that I have to wear the pain patch because of the severe nerve damage in my spinal column caused by sarcoidosis of the central nervous system. The inoperable lesion that blossomed in my spinal cord and my lower brain stem causes chronic, intractable pain. It’s like an invisible parrot that is stabbing its claws into my shoulder and pecking my neck with its razor blade beak. Mr. Ma took in my explanation and then warmly asked me, “How do you deal with living with chronic pain?”

The sun was setting, and buzzing insects took their cue to bombard us. As we swatted the mosquitos, I had a Eureka moment. When we get a mosquito bite, it itches. When we scratch the itch, we are creating a low level pain sensation. The scraping distracts us from the vexing irritation of the bite. We are trading the annoyance of the relentless itch for a preferred experience of temporary mild pain, which feels pleasant by comparison.

Pictured: The source of my inspiration. Illustration by John Eder.

In that moment I had a cataclysmic recognition. The way I manage living with high-level chronic pain is to jam as many low-level moments of happiness into my day as I can. Just as a small relieving scratch distracts me from an itchy wheal, I find that small moments of happiness distract me from even high-level neuropathic pain.

On days when pain flares confine me to my home, and I am roped to the sofa like Gulliver, I get a great dose of distraction from the pain in the pleasure of having a cup of tea and a biscuit, with old-school soul classics on the radio and the companionship of a great book on my lap. When I am up to it, I extract a higher-level dose of good vibes simply by walking in our neighborhood. Even when I am having a bad pain flare, I seek out positive interaction with neighbors and friends. They are an uplifting tonic for my soul.

I have found the way to distract myself from the unending agony of the evil phantom parrot that’s pecking at my shoulder.

I give it a cracker.

Eureka!