The Phantom Pain of the Boston Bombing

The horror of the Boston Marathon bombings did not end with those first dreadful moments when the realization hit that death and destruction had shattered a festive sporting event. Nor did it end hours later with the toll of the dead and injured. Nor did it end days later with the killing of one suspect, the wounding of another, and the death of a police officer.

As investigative teams try to unravel the twisted motive behind this crime, the suffering of the survivors and their families has only just begun.

Of the 260 people who were wounded in the bombing, 16 lost limbs and others suffered extensive damage to bones, veins and nerves that require multiple operations and long, painful periods of rehabilitation. The psychic wounds, even with professional help and prayer, may never fully heal. Many were conscious in the moments after the blast, and will live with the shock and fear of that time for the rest of their lives.

We read also of extraordinary courage. Heather Abbott, 38, stands out as just one example. She chose to undergo a below-the-knee amputation and a prosthetic to replace her foot and lower leg, so that she will have a better chance of resuming her physically active life than she would have with a mangled limb.

Abbott has reportedly been optimistic throughout her ordeal. “This situation I’m faced with, it’s not going to change … to dwell on the negative is kind of a waste of time for me,” she said.

Our hearts go out to those who are suffering so much, and we are inspired by such courage.

Yet another aspect of this painful story is the investigation itself. Though the authorities are still gathering evidence and guilt has not yet been proven, there seems every reason to believe, from their radical Islamic background and security camera images taken at the scene, that the Tsarnaev brothers were the perpetrators.

Now, we hear from the parents. At first, one might think that perhaps this is another case of journalistic excess. Isn’t the shame and anguish of discovering that one’s offspring are mass murderers enough? Must the media follow them all the way to their remote village in Russia and probe with questions better left to the authorities to ask? Perhaps there are still places where cameras and microphones should not go?

However, during a press conference in Russia with the Tsarnaevs, they told the world that these were “nice” boys who were certainly innocent. From the parents we heard angry denials, bizarre accusations of a government conspiracy against their sons — and not a word of sympathy for the victims.

Indeed, there is reason to suspect that the parents are not innocent, either. Their mother, Zubeidat Tsarnaeva, was well aware before the bombing that her sons had taken a dubious path in life. She admitted that she knew the CIA had been monitoring her son Tamerlan. They had contacted her about him and his radical Islamic interests. When asked by an agent if she thought he would get involved with a radical organization, Mrs. Tsarnaeva said, “I said, ‘No, no.’”

However, as the Associated Press reported: “Ruslan Tsarni, an uncle of the Tsarnaev brothers and Zubeidat’s former brother-in-law, said he believes the mother had a ‘big-time influence’ as her older son increasingly embraced his Muslim faith and decided to quit boxing and school.”

We could understand if the parents refused to speak to reporters, had insisted on their privacy at a time of terrible anguish. But their choice to speak out, and so aggressively, stands in disturbing contrast to the quiet suffering and courage of the Boston victims.

For many of the wounded, the pain continues. At Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, for example, the hospital is giving patients oral and intravenous narcotics and, where possible, regional nerve blocks using catheters.

But for those who lost limbs, there is another kind of pain, unique in its nature and intensity. It is known as “phantom pain” — which feels as if it is coming from the body part that is no longer there. Doctors say it can be excruciating and particularly hard to treat.

In a sense, we all suffer from a kind of phantom pain: from being witnesses to so much loss of life and limb; from the truncated illusion of safety, of the dream of a country somehow invulnerable to the killing hatreds of an old world. The phantom pain persists, and it will take a great deal of courage and faith to overcome it.

This article appeared in print on page 10 of the April 30th, 2013 edition of Hamodia.