By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I learned in childhood to keep my mouth shut if I had pain or was feeling sick. My siblings would say, "Stop your whining. Just go to your room if you're feeling so bad, so we don't have to hear about it!"

I learned to say nothing, no matter how bad I felt.

That is how I still handle it today. When I see a doctor about my trigeminal neuralgia pain or some other pain, they’ll often say, “Your pain can't be as bad as you say. You don't act like you're in pain.”

I was at the neurosurgeon's office. One of his residents wanted to touch the left side of my face and I wasn't sure why. Maybe to see what I would do? He knew any touch to the affected area would set off horrible, terrible pain.

“Are you ready?” he asked before touching me. His finger hit the mark and I instinctively jumped back, but didn't make a sound. The resident looked at me; like he was waiting for a cry, scream, wail, or any normal vocalization of pain. Instead, I was silent.

“Are you okay?” he asked, somewhat warily. He didn't realize I was literally unable to answer. My childhood lesson not to speak about pain had morphed into mute silence as an adult. I was speechless; my larynx unable to produce a sound.

I cleared my throat a few times in an effort to speak, while raising a finger in the universal sign of “wait.” After a few minutes, I was finally able to speak, but my words would not come out clearly.  Once triggered, the pain takes its own sweet time before it settles down.

My words were interspersed with more throat-clearing: “I can't, hahahem, speak when the, hahahem, pain is triggered.” 

Others who have chronic pain usually say the opposite: “When a doctor sets off my pain or I am in pain, I have no choice. I scream, I cry or I curse. I make faces and grimace.”

It is an automatic response. And often the doctor's reply in words or facial expression is, ”I don't believe this act you're putting on."

So what's a pain patient to do? What's a doctor to do?

For us, it's simple. If the doctor says, “It really isn't necessary to be so loud and to use profanity, or to wail and scream. In fact, it makes me think you're being overly dramatic.”

We need to reply in a way that says, “Doctor, this is what I do to express my pain. It may be unusual to you, too loud, or too unpleasant. But it is the only way I know how to express it.”

The doctor on the other hand? He doesn't know unless he asks a key question: “How do you let others know if you are in pain or what your level of pain is? Do you express it by crying or with grimaces? Or do you become silent?”

It comes down to one of my favorite sayings: You don't know what you don't know. And if you don't know what you don't know, you don't know what to ask. Our doctors need to ask.

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.