From Bored to Amazed

Chronic pain is boring. Sure, initially there can be a lot of drama associated with it. There are myriad ways in which it can affect your life and in the midst of those changes you may find yourself continually adapting. Yet, when all is said and done and you have adjusted to your new reality, it's . . . boring. The stasis of chronic pain typically just doesn't offer a lot that is interesting. Therefore, I always have my ear to the ground for anything that could provide interest or positive change. Here I'm not talking about developments in the medical field, though it seems responsible to keep oneself informed in that area. In this case, I'm talking about seeking out esoteric knowledge and approaches to pain.

One has to be careful about this. New or radical "cures" can cause damage and exacerbate suffering. I tend to stay away from unfamiliar approaches unless there is documentation and a significant history of success. I look more for tried and true methods that perhaps haven't gained much publicity or aren't widely practiced in my sphere of reference. An example of this on a greater scale occurred with the introduction of Eastern medicine to the Western world of medicine. Decades ago acupuncture was shrouded in mystery. Now it is covered by most insurance plans and Western doctors have come to realize that it can be a remarkable method of alleviating pain.

Recently, I watched the series Medicine Men Go Wild. This series covered the adventures of two British doctors who also happen to be twins, the van Tulleken brothers. They wanted to bring modern medicine to some of the most remote areas on earth. Surprisingly, they found they didn't have a lot to offer. People living in those areas had methods of maintaining health that were effective.

The episode that interested me most was Episode 2, "World of Pain." Though I don't remember all the details, I vividly recall a Tibetan man who had a procedure without anesthesia. He was quite calm and displayed no distress as the doctor worked. One of the British doctors said that Western patients having a similar procedure with no anesthesia would be screaming in pain. They asked the Tibetan man what his internal experience was during the procedure. He had been looking at a beautiful mountain view as it proceeded. He said, "I just think of something else."

What does this mean for us, aside from the fact that it's amazing? Well, we couldn't presume to have the abilities displayed by the Tibetan patient. Being raised in such a culture would certainly affect outlook and, thus, neural pathways that deal with pain. Those raised in a Western culture would have forged quite different neural pathways. This isn't something that could be changed overnight, if an individual found they were able to change it at all. And, yet, the varying experiences of pain aren't entirely cultural. Once when in a hospital, I was about to receive an injection. The nurse asked me if it was okay to proceed and I said, "Sure, go ahead. It's no big deal." She said, "Well, you wouldn't think so from the fifteen-year old girl who was screaming her head off when I gave her an injection."

How fascinating that one brain response is so different from another. Given these different experiences of pain among people, is there the potential for meaning in our experience of chronic pain? I find topics such as this one both completely absorbing and worthy of thought. Norman Doidge's book The Brain that Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science illuminated for me the amazing plasticity of the brain. If the stories in his book were not documented, I would have a hard time believing them. The knowledge that some brains do not perceive pain at the level of others, combined with the plasticity inherent in the brain does something wonderful. It opens the door of hope. I don't expect to be able to change my pain experience quickly, though that would be great. I don't know if in fact I can change it significantly, though that would be great. But I do have a project that is not boring. Slowly but surely I am working on paying attention to pain, experiencing it, and attempting to shift it downward. So far, I can report mixed success with an unanticipated side effect of exhilaration.