What's my pain worth, exactly?

During a discussion of household jobs at one of my chronic pain management workshops, someone mentioned groceries, which is a hot-button issue with me. I used to do 90% of the shopping because I loved it and also because I cooked a lot, so it was easier if I picked everything out.

Then came the seizure. The pain limits standing, walking and lifting, of course, but as I've mentioned before, the hardware in my shoulders prevents raising my outstretched arms above chin level. So except for a brief stop to pick up one or two things, grocery shopping became one less (kind-of) fun thing I could do, and one more chore to add to Mrs. Lucky's side of the scorecard.

Then I remembered that our favorite chain delivered. Perfect! Now I shop in front of the computer, even getting Mrs. Lucky's input, which she didn't always get when I shopped in person. It's almost as much fun, but there are some downsides. First, the company (which I should allow to remain nameless, but is Von's) doesn't offer everything online. Love that specific soup flavor or variety of pretzels? You may have to settle. They're also frequently out of items. You have the option when ordering to substitute either a different brand or size, but we've had problems with that, so I just check "no substitutions." Finally, there's a delivery charge catch-22: It ranges from $3.95 to $9.95 depending on a bunch of factors, but you can eliminate it if you spend $150 and buy five items from a certain list. When it's all said and done, however, it's been a good solution for us.

When I explained all this to my group, they saw nothing but downside. I understand that limited incomes make delivery charges and minimum orders sound unappealing. I also know that if you're not able to drive yourself to the store, you're paying cabs, public transportation or friends or family for transportation. I understand that not getting everything you want can be disappointing. I also know that eating a different brand of corn flakes is fine with me if it means I didn't have to ask for help to get it down from the shelf.

Like other chronic health conditions, chronic pain means making adjustments. Will every adjustment be perfect? Of course not. But that comes with the territory. How much is my comfort worth? At the very least, it's worth putting up with a different brand of corn flakes and a couple of bucks for delivery to get food in the house.