Purpose in pain

What is the purpose of pain?
Is it only the body telling you something is wrong?
I know I'm alive because I'm in pain, yet that is of little consolation, for surely there are other ways to realise that.
Doctors, Drugstores and Drug Manufacturers all benefit from it, yet there must be another way for them to make a living at my expense.
It is universal yet personal, but better you have it than I.
Yes that is a selfish and self-centred attitude, and in retrospect I would not wish it on anyone, but why me? and what am I to do with it?

Crossing Guard Lady Cold Coffee

Each day we all make choices, big and small, consequential and inconsequential, smart and dumb. Often the results of which are not immediately known, or perhaps never known.
For instance today's adventure was to get a freebie newspaper to get the details of a supposedly good deal. Never mind that my foot is in agony, the lure of saving $ overcomes that obstacle.
My journey begins along the usual route yet a few houses down it is apparent from the pain that it is not going to work, and so I retreat back to my lair.
As time marches on that lure is still there so I venture out, yet this time head the other direction.
Given I'm already in pain jaywalking is not an option so I head to the crosswalk where I've crossed a handful of times, yet crossing guard lady always talks to me like I've known her for years. However, today when I speak to her she honestly answers through her tears that it is a horrible day.(So much for the impersonal and phony"I'm fine" response that we all love to hear).
Given that I don't hear right in the best of times I'm uncertain what the problem is, and so I respond with my mediocre" I hope your day improves" and continue on.
While doing so I'm praying for her and looking back. As I reach the newspaper box, I decide to buy her a coffee, and drag myself and it back to the crosswalk, yet sure enough as soon as I'm nearly there, her time is up and she takes off.
Now I'm stuck with a coffee I don't want and can barely walk as I drag myself home. The closer home is, the harder it becomes.
Once at home I open my prized newspaper only to find the supposedly good deal is nowhere to be found. No matter how many times I look it is not there! What a waste of time or was it?
For what if I hadn't gone out, and spoken to her? Would anyone? Would you?