Chapter 76. The Invisible Pain
“Urgh! Yeah, back in my prime, I went all the way down to the 13th floor of the dungeon basement! What year is it now? 562 in the Ailene calendar, and the record's still just the 19th underground floor? Man, these kids these days are such wimps. If I'd been in my 20s—no, 40s—I'd have been slicing through monsters like— ”
“Pelio!”
“?”
It was right then, as Pelio—who'd had his facial paralysis treated—endured the endless explanation that had his ears practically bleeding. The automatic doors on the first floor of the Beauty Tower slid open, and a group of elderly men entered with tense expressions.
The man leading them, panting heavily, was the very same old-timer who'd been ranting in the grand plaza earlier.
“You alright there, lad?”
“Hey, Bomba! You saw my mouth all twisted up and said I'd be fine? You damn bastard!”
“The treatment half-worked, huh?”
“What'd you say, you punk?”
Sharp words flew back and forth among the old men—words that suited their gruff demeanor perfectly. But their micro-expressions betrayed clear relief and reassurance.
“Aigoo, what a relief! Thank goodness!”
“That doctor's words about cold winds causing twisted mouths must've been spot on!”
“Watch your mouths, folks! He's a baron!”
Not just Bomba, who seemed to be the leader of these retired heroes, but all the men with him let out sighs of relief, their faces beaming with joy.
“Ahem, well, anyway, it's a good thing. At our age, we have to watch out even for falling leaves... Ack!”
“Ah, aigoo! Hey, Bomba! You okay?”
“Guhhh!”
“Bomba! Pull yourself together! Bomba!”
“Is the patient's leg hurting? Let me check the stump for a moment.”
Thud! Bomba, who'd dropped his crutches and collapsed to the floor clutching his amputated leg, swatted my hand away as he convulsed.
“Guh... There's nothing anyone can do. No one who hasn't had a limb cut off could ever understand... Guh!”
Bomba clutched the stump below his knee with one hand and flailed at the empty air above it with the other, writhing in agony on the floor. The retired heroes watched him pitifully, murmuring if he was okay, but none stepped forward.
And I understood why no one rushed in.
No one had a solution for that pain.
...Phantom Limb Pain?
Bomba's torment—gripping the severed end with one hand and swiping at nothing with the other—looked exactly like Phantom Limb Pain, the painful variant of phantom limb syndrome.
“Walter, go to Rebecca right now and get some Tylenol.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Cache, contact Hazel and have her prepare the half-body bath machine in the physical therapy room.”
“Got it, Director!”
Phantom Limb Pain afflicted 50 to 80 percent of amputation patients. A burning pain grips a leg that isn't there anymore. From minor aches to electric shocks, needle pricks, scorching heat, cold, itching, or soreness—patients suffer impossible pains.
“Mr. Bomba, just let me confirm there's no infection at the stump. I'll help ease the pain.”
“Guhh... I said it's fine! This has been going on for decades... Guhhh!”
“Excuse me. Ravi, hold this patient's hands, please.”
“Yes, Director.”
Only after Ravi pried away Bomba's fidgeting hands from the stump could I examine it.
Good, no infection, thankfully.
“Director! I got the Tylenol!”
Walter returned quickly from fetching it, even bringing water—a sign he'd picked up some hospital savvy.
“Patient, this might help with the severe pain. Take it with water for now.”
“Grr... I said no— ”
“Listen to him! You ignoring the baron right now?”
“......”
Growing up in a Confucian culture made it uncomfortable raising my voice at an elder like that. But calming the Phantom Limb Pain was priority one.
Gulp. Grimacing at my near-threat, Bomba swallowed the Tylenol.
Tylenol won't do much anyway.
Phantom Limb Pain patients usually took potent opioids like oxycodone hydrochloride or neuropathic drugs like gabapentin. Oxycodone was so strong the box screamed “narcotic”—one pill could ease pain, but patients got hooked fast.
“Walter, move the patient to the physical therapy room right away.”
That's why I'd go with alternative therapy. Phantom Limb Pain had no perfect cure yet.
Walter scooped up the old man like a baby, leaving Bomba bewildered amid his pain.
“Guhh... Where... where are you taking me?”
“No painful treatment. Just a simple half-body bath. Ravi, treat the others to some refreshments.”
“Aigoo, Baron! Mind if I come along?”
Pelio, recovered from his paralysis, shot me a worried look, and I nodded. One extra in the therapy room wouldn't hurt.
Ding. We arrived on the seventh floor—physical therapy and rehab center—where Stella waited.
“The patient Walter brought is for the half-body bath machine, and the other is... Mr. Pelio, anywhere uncomfortable?”
“Well, my neck's been stiff lately. Shoulders feel knotted too.”
“Stella, basic physical therapy for Mr. Pelio.”
“Yes, Director.”
About 30 minutes later, I approached Bomba in the half-body bath machine.
“Patient. How's the pain now?”
“......”
The stubborn retired hero cautiously pried open his clenched jaw.
“That pill... did it work?”
Of course. It had some effect.
“The bath helped more than the pill. What you took is just a mild painkiller for minor symptoms. Half-body baths show the biggest results for Phantom Limb Pain patients.”
“......”
The cranky old guy's calm demeanor confirmed the pain had subsided a lot.
Time to ramp it up.
While the two elders did their bath and therapy, I'd had Hazel prepare something in the rehab center. She should arrive any minute.
“Director! We're here. The heroes have all moved to the rehab center.”
“Good. Stella, Hazel—escort these two heroes there too.”
“Yep!”
“Yes!”
Moments later, nine retired heroes—including Bomba and Pelio—gathered on the wide floor of the rehab center. They were the 15 retired adventurers who'd come to the Beauty Tower, specifically those who'd had amputations.
As they eyed each other and chatter started bubbling up, I raised one hand sharply, gesturing for silence.
“I've gathered you retired heroes—especially those with limb amputations—to recommend rehab training for Phantom Limb Pain.”
“Phantom what now?”
“Rehab?”
Murmurs rose from the talkative elders, but I pressed on before they could snowball.
“Even after losing limbs to injury or illness, the human brain retains the sensation of those missing limbs forever.”
Their world's basic medicine lagged far behind mine, so even simple explanations might confuse them.
But they'll get the gist.
I swept a resolute gaze over the patients and continued.
“The brain tricks itself into thinking the leg is there but immobilized by some major issue, sending pain signals as a warning. That's Phantom Limb Pain, or painful phantom limb syndrome.”
“It has a name?”
“Phantom Limb Pain, huh...”
The whispers grew, but I kept going.
“Phantom Limb Pain varies: needle pricks, tingling, burning, scorching sensations at the stump. If you feel that, it's Phantom Limb Pain.”
It hit 80 percent of amputees—a maddeningly common affliction, sometimes called “phantom madness pain” for driving people insane. Constant management, like stretching, was essential for daily life.
“What I'm introducing is the mirror box therapy using mirrors to prevent Phantom Limb Pain. You each have a mirror box from our nurses, right?”
“What's this treatment? Not kid stuff, is it?”
“Tch, let's just try it.”
It might seem odd, but mirror box therapy was developed by Indian neuroscientist Vilayanur Ramachandran. It used visual illusions to alter the brain's body perception, even helping CRPS patients.
“Slide your stump—the phantom arm or leg—into the hole.”
“Like... this?”
Bomba, who'd been the most hostile, shoved his amputated leg stump in first and looked at me.
“Yes. Now, imagine the mirrored phantom limb as your pre-amputation one, and move it in sync.”
Gasp after gasp echoed around the room.
“Whoa... Haha! My hand... feels like my hand's back!”
“My leg... my leg... Huhu!”
Some laughed, some wept. Amputees said the worst part of Phantom Limb Pain was the itch or ache they couldn't scratch or soothe.
It's known to drive some to suicide.
Results varied, but consistent mirror box use needed at least three weeks.
“Phantom Limb Pain treatment requires steady training. If you retired heroes want, we can provide this scientific, effective program.”
Now that they knew, going back to suffering wasn't an option.
Time to close the deal.
“In gratitude for your contributions to local development and mentoring the young, we'll offer Phantom Limb Pain treatment for just 1 copper a day!”