johnhenryowen
New Member
... months ago.
And then the strangest thing happened.
A week or so ago, I was at what might have been the lowest ebb in a year long battle with arm pain, variously termed RSI, upper limb disorder etc. I had come to believe I was disabled - permanently.
And then the thought struck me, razor sharp - a moment of abject clarity; the sensations I was feeling were entirely irrational, illogical - If the tissues in my arms were damaged, why was the pain and numbness so wildly inconsistent. Why could I carry heavy objects, grasp things firmly perform all manor of activities requiring dexterity in some instances, but not in others. Why pain whilst typing and playing guitar, but not whilst drumming my fingers or buttoning my shirt. I had of course thought about this before, but had been assured that 'complex upper limb pain' can behave in a way that seems irrational - This injury was eccentric, nebulous, mobile - it could radiate, shift and recur.
What struck me in that moment of clarity was that the explanation for this irrational phenomena was itself irrational. Occam's razor applied, I concluded - firmly - that there was something inherently unlikely about the idea that I had somehow damaged the muscle tissue or nerves in my arms and hands, and that this was causing unpredictable pain and other sensations. There was only one alternative; the pain must have been somehow manufactured by my mind. One further piece of puzzle started to take shape soon after this strange and compelling realisation. Looking over at my laptop, sitting unused on my desk, an object of fear and resentment, my hands and arms started to buzz with pain and tingling. I realised that this was - that it must be - a conditioned reaction, something like the salivation of Pavlov's dogs. Where had I encountered that suggestion before?
It was, i finally remembered, when I had flicked through that guy's eccentric ideas in a book that I bought whilst buying every book I encountered that dealt with RSI from Amazon. His name was Dr John E. Sarno (3 weeks ago, I'm ashamed to say, I would have put inverted commas around 'Dr' such was my contempt for anything called 'mindbody')
I read the book I had. I ordered the others, and the audio versions. I was ashamed, because pursuing this felt like an act of desperation, and a betrayal of a proud commitment to empiricism in its evidentialist form - of medicine itself, the thing that might, one day, help me to recover. I had turned to the 'new age' to 'feelings' to everything I thought was a blind alley full of delusional saps and zealots profiting from misery.
The books impressed me. But they didn't convince me. They still don't. This business about blood flow and oxygen deprivation. Hm - I humbly submit I just don't know about that. But this insight - that a psychomsymatic origin for this pain is possible resonated with my earlier realisation. It was - it is - a Copernican revolution, a new way of thinking about this - And I feel, cautiously, that I am profiting from it.
I started to read accounts of people getting better from this seemingly incurable pathology, and to read this forum. I realised that the people talking to me from Youtube, and in typed accounts full of abrupt transitions from unadulterated misery to unmitigated joy were not delusional, impressionable people. They seemed to be articulate, sceptical and well-informed. More than anything - They had got better.
I'm not fixed. But, I am typing this from the laptop that I had learned to fear. And the last two/ three days, I have felt better than I have in a long time.
If this persists until Christmas, if I continue to improve, even just a little, I will throw myself at the feet of Dr. Sarno, and on the alter of TMS ask forgiveness. Then, I will sit down, and calmly - painlessly - type my confession, my story of abject fear and of eventual success.
If....
And then the strangest thing happened.
A week or so ago, I was at what might have been the lowest ebb in a year long battle with arm pain, variously termed RSI, upper limb disorder etc. I had come to believe I was disabled - permanently.
And then the thought struck me, razor sharp - a moment of abject clarity; the sensations I was feeling were entirely irrational, illogical - If the tissues in my arms were damaged, why was the pain and numbness so wildly inconsistent. Why could I carry heavy objects, grasp things firmly perform all manor of activities requiring dexterity in some instances, but not in others. Why pain whilst typing and playing guitar, but not whilst drumming my fingers or buttoning my shirt. I had of course thought about this before, but had been assured that 'complex upper limb pain' can behave in a way that seems irrational - This injury was eccentric, nebulous, mobile - it could radiate, shift and recur.
What struck me in that moment of clarity was that the explanation for this irrational phenomena was itself irrational. Occam's razor applied, I concluded - firmly - that there was something inherently unlikely about the idea that I had somehow damaged the muscle tissue or nerves in my arms and hands, and that this was causing unpredictable pain and other sensations. There was only one alternative; the pain must have been somehow manufactured by my mind. One further piece of puzzle started to take shape soon after this strange and compelling realisation. Looking over at my laptop, sitting unused on my desk, an object of fear and resentment, my hands and arms started to buzz with pain and tingling. I realised that this was - that it must be - a conditioned reaction, something like the salivation of Pavlov's dogs. Where had I encountered that suggestion before?
It was, i finally remembered, when I had flicked through that guy's eccentric ideas in a book that I bought whilst buying every book I encountered that dealt with RSI from Amazon. His name was Dr John E. Sarno (3 weeks ago, I'm ashamed to say, I would have put inverted commas around 'Dr' such was my contempt for anything called 'mindbody')
I read the book I had. I ordered the others, and the audio versions. I was ashamed, because pursuing this felt like an act of desperation, and a betrayal of a proud commitment to empiricism in its evidentialist form - of medicine itself, the thing that might, one day, help me to recover. I had turned to the 'new age' to 'feelings' to everything I thought was a blind alley full of delusional saps and zealots profiting from misery.
The books impressed me. But they didn't convince me. They still don't. This business about blood flow and oxygen deprivation. Hm - I humbly submit I just don't know about that. But this insight - that a psychomsymatic origin for this pain is possible resonated with my earlier realisation. It was - it is - a Copernican revolution, a new way of thinking about this - And I feel, cautiously, that I am profiting from it.
I started to read accounts of people getting better from this seemingly incurable pathology, and to read this forum. I realised that the people talking to me from Youtube, and in typed accounts full of abrupt transitions from unadulterated misery to unmitigated joy were not delusional, impressionable people. They seemed to be articulate, sceptical and well-informed. More than anything - They had got better.
I'm not fixed. But, I am typing this from the laptop that I had learned to fear. And the last two/ three days, I have felt better than I have in a long time.
If this persists until Christmas, if I continue to improve, even just a little, I will throw myself at the feet of Dr. Sarno, and on the alter of TMS ask forgiveness. Then, I will sit down, and calmly - painlessly - type my confession, my story of abject fear and of eventual success.
If....
You have a way with words.
I knew that there would be wonderful other folks here to keep up the discussion. And there are always fires to put out around here. (spammers; crashing servers; and comment flamewars just in the last week!)