A Pained Life: Do You Know the Magic Words?

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

My chronic pain started with a spontaneous, horrific and sharp pain, like a blade slicing through my left temple. Within two weeks, I was disabled by it. Almost everything triggered the pain, even the tiniest wisp of hair or whisper of a breeze.

I was 26 at the time. I could only afford to go to a local hospital clinic. No matter which doctor saw me or their specialty, no one could figure it out.

Then I started dating Scott, one of the ophthalmology residents. On our date, Scott kept trying to touch the left side of my face. I kept pulling away.

“Where shouldn’t I touch you?” he asked.

I mapped out the area on the left side of my face, from my scalp down to my cheek. The exact same area I indicated at all of my clinic visits. Scott looked shocked.

“I know what you have. You have trigeminal neuralgia,” he said.

I knew of the horrors of this pain. I didn't want this diagnosis. But at least now I had a name for it.

Fast forward to when I could afford a private doctor. I went to see a neuro-ophthalmologist and told him my story. Feeling anxious and afraid, I related it in a manner that may not have been very coherent as it might otherwise have been.

“Don’t be so schizophrenic,” the doctor said. “Tell me what happened more clearly.”

He decided I was “anxious” and that was probably the cause of my pain. He told me to come back in three months and see if anything had changed by then.

I didn’t want to go back, but what choice did I have? It turned out to be a very good decision.  It was at this appointment I learned that “magic words” exist in the medical world.

“Is the pain the same?” the doctor asked. When I said yes, he said to come back in another three months.

I was walking to the door when a thought hit me. “You know for a few seconds today I thought it was finally over,” I said. He immediately perked up

“What made you think that?” he asked.

I was on the train and a lady had brushed against my face. And the pain didn’t come right away. I was happy for abuut 20 seconds, when the pain hit me like a sucker punch.

“It’s time we brought you into the hospital,” the doctor said. “We need to do some tests.”

I had no way of knowing, but I had uttered the magic words. Unbeknownst to me, that specific change was a distinct sign of trigeminal neuralgia. 

How many times have we gone to the doctor and gotten the “I dunno” or “I don’t understand your complaint” answer? 

I have a feeling for many of our disorders there are magic words like “abracadabra” or “open sesame” that change the way doctors see us. The sad part is there is no good way to figure them out. Do too much research and you may get labeled a hypochondriac. Do none and you'll never know the secret words. Is there a middle ground? 

It reminds me of the fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin, about an imp who spins straw into gold in exchange for a girl's firstborn child. If the girl guesses his name within three days, she could keep her baby. She does, and Rumpelstiltskin goes away. 

For many of us, if we guess the right words, we get the right tests, the right diagnosis and maybe even the right treatment. If only it wasn’t a fairy tale.

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.