The Healthcare System Is Sick, How Could It Ever Heal Us?

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

As a person who has required ample medical attention throughout my life, a constant part of the never-ending struggle for treatment is finding a provider that’s worth-a-damn to administer quality healthcare.

In childhood, I was fortunate to have one practitioner who treated every member of my family. Although most of it was an excruciating trial and error process, I can at least say they tried. When she retired, for continuity’s sake I gravitated toward someone else in the same medical practice.

By then my initial condition (chronic head pain) had not only become more complicated, but I was also battling another diagnosis (fibromyalgia) -- one that the new provider did not seem to take seriously. I chose to dismiss myself from the practice.

At that point, I became more conscious about the sort of doctor I was seeking, so I spent hours researching every clinic in my surrounding area and reviewing doctors’ bios. It was imperative that whoever I chose possess some sort of background or special interest in pain. 

I found a candidate I was so excited about that I left in happy tears after the first appointment. Unfortunately, that did not last long. On the next visit, I was diagnosed with my second round of Covid-19 and they proceeded to blame my chronic fatigue, joint pain and compromised mobility on the coronavirus -- as opposed to the fibromyalgia I’d already been diagnosed with years before the pandemic.

I shrugged it off as a misunderstanding, and assumed they must have meant the exacerbation of my fibromyalgia symptoms was caused by Covid.  

At appointment number three, we discussed preventative screenings due to some issues relating to potential hereditary concerns. After some urging, they explained the process of going in for testing, assured me I’d be contacted by qualified personnel, and guaranteed that I’d receive a direct message from them personally once all this was set in motion.

My only job was to wait, so I did. And I continued to wait. A month later, I’m still waiting.

Of course, I realize I’m not the only patient in the universe. As a retired healthcare worker, I understand the burnout so many providers must be experiencing after the last 3 years.  I recognize the shortages and feel privileged to have any sort of access. That being said, over the last two months at least two members of the pain community have taken their own lives. This is an example of what led them there. 

I vowed this was going to be the final disappointment that I am willing to accept from the healthcare system. I am paying more for medical insurance than I ever have, but receive the least amount of aid.

Given that previous failures are what led me to explore more holistic methods, I do not reside in woo-woo land. Concepts like breath work and herbs felt a bit degrading and insulting at first, but then I decided to set my reluctance aside, remembering how lost just about everything I tried up to then had left me. I reflected on the fact that I almost didn’t survive long enough to even consider something different. 

I’d never suggest that natural treatments will cure whatever horrendous illness a person may be enduring, but I’ll point out that many holistic remedies go back thousands of years. Ideas that were once dismissed, such as gut health being correlated to mental well-being; inflammation being the main culprit in overall sickness; oral hygiene (or lack thereof) directly impacting the heart; and how exercise improves mood and health are now widely accepted as mainstream.

Some of these ideas have gained traction, but utilizing things like plants won’t ever be fully encouraged or supported because it takes money away from Big Pharma – which ironically produces medication that is often derived from natural sources as well.

All of this is an open invitation to explore different ways to care for ourselves. We can remain distraught over our lack of support or we can be empowered by seeking out what we can do, as opposed to what they’ll “allow.”

I don't know about you, but continuing to put the quality of my life in the hands of those who repeatedly demonstrate their lack of concern and who are in the business of profiting off sickness is a death wish. The healthcare system is not only guilty of this, but sick itself. How could it ever heal us?

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill. 

The Real Hoax About Prescription Opioids

By Barby Ingle, PNN Columnist

How many have to die? How many have to be denied? How many have to suffer unnecessarily?

Those are some of the questions I’m asking after reading a recent article in The Guardian about the CDC’s revised opioid guideline. The article has a few misstatements about prescription opioids that I have issues with. 

Before I share my take, I want readers to know that I do not take opioid medications myself. I have taken them in the past, but found other treatments that were more effective, so I stopped taking opioids in 2009. I also have an allergy to OxyContin, which I discovered after a knee surgery.

In 2018, I underwent pharmacogenomic testing, which I highly recommend for anyone who has chronic physical conditions. It has given me the best precision care available. I still live with multiple chronic pain and rare diseases, and will need treatment for the rest of my life.

You may be aware that I recently stepped down as president and a board member of the International Pain Foundation (iPain). It was a completely volunteer position. I have been advocating through many nonprofits since 2006 and have always been transparent about any funding that the charity or I received. I also have a degree from George Mason University in Psychology.

Which brings me back to the claims about addiction, opioids and patient advocacy that Dr. Andrew Kolodny, president of Physicians for Responsible Opioid Prescribing (PROP), made in The Guardian article. This quote is from Kolodny about patient suicides:

“This is a really serious issue. But what the opioid advocates, many with industry ties, disclosed or undisclosed, pushed was this false narrative about an epidemic of suicide and so there was a manufactured backlash against the CDC guidelines.

“The notion that there are patients losing access to an effective treatment, and therefore they have no choice but to kill themselves because they’re in so much pain now, that’s a hoax. But the idea that someone in the context of acute withdrawal would kill themselves, that certainly could be real because it’s so excruciating.”

From the perspective of a pain patient and a former nonprofit board member, I want to set the record straight about Kolodny’s alleged “hoax.” Yes, addiction is a serious issue. Under-treatment of chronic pain is also a serious issue. Any mistreatment of people with chronic care challenges is an issue.

The healthcare system in the U.S. is working as it was designed and needs to be thrown out. We are all individuals and should be treated by the providers of our choosing to get the care that we need — not as the healthcare system dictates. Not every provider is great, not every patient is great, and no treatment works for everyone. 

In America, we live in a “free” society. I believe we should be able to choose our own care and moral stance. But I wonder why Kolodny believes his moral stance should supersede what a provider and patient feel is best, whether it’s addiction treatment, pain management or any particular choice of care.

We should have full access to whatever we are willing to do to our own bodies. I have said many times over the years that I do not want to be a guinea pig anymore. I work hard to manage my pain levels, my surroundings, my energy pennies, and the people around me.

‘Advocates With Industry Ties’

Kolodny claims that many “opioid advocates” have industry ties and manufactured a false narrative about patient suicides in a backlash against the CDC guideline.

As a patient advocate who has been working with nonprofits for almost 20 years, I believe that the pharmaceutical industry should be giving money to the pain community to help us with tools and resources that make our lives better.

People think it’s easy for advocacy groups to get funding from Pharma, but that is not true, at least for the small funding that I was involved with. I know firsthand the many checks and balances that are needed before any grant money is provided. It did not matter if it was $100 or $10,000. Nonprofits have to account for it on their tax returns and through audits.

Since 2015, grant money from Pharma for iPain completely stopped, even the small amounts that we were getting. We went from completing over 200 grant applications a year, and getting less than 5 percent of them approved, down to a 0% success rate. There is nothing to report when you receive nothing, which is how it is going now for most patient advocacy organizations and support groups.

Receiving nothing from Pharma did not change our opinions or goals. We found other ways to accomplish them on a shoestring budget. I wish it was easier, but being hard does not stop the movement, because it is a matter of life or death in too many cases. Our work at iPain continued, because it was never about spreading whatever Pharma wanted. It was always about helping patients get individualized care. And all options, including opioids, should be on the table.  

Our work continued on a smaller scale and more creatively than if we had a large budget to get things done. At about the same time that our funding dried up, social media took off and it became easier to reach more people and actually be heard. We were still able to accomplish our goals, at less cost and with less funding.

I do not have the time, energy or space in this column to go into the many financial ties — disclosed and undisclosed — that Kolodny and PROP have with law firms involved in opioid litigation, which funded their efforts to take opioids away from patients. Good God, what is the point of him being so moral in his own eyes, that he does not let other people choose what is best for them?  

Patients losing access to treatment is real. So are patients dying or contemplating suicide. I receive emails and calls from them regularly, even since stepping down from iPain.

The first patient I lost due to being cut off from medication was in 2012. She was one of my best friends at the time. I talked to her often. She was on a medication that was helping. The provider cut her off and put her on a different drug. Neither were opioids. She was stable and doing well with the first medication, but not on the second one. My friend decided that jumping out of a 10-story window to her death would be better than not having the medication that was giving her more quality of life.

Kolodny says someone in acute withdrawal might kill themselves because it is so excruciating. Yes, Dr. Kolodny, withdrawal is hard and you are forcing it on people who are already in pain, who did not need or ask for your opinion. That is the real hoax.

Barby Ingle is a reality TV personality living with multiple rare and chronic diseases. She is a chronic pain educator, patient advocate, motivational speaker, and best-selling author on pain topics. Barby has received over 25 awards for her advocacy efforts over the years. You can follow her at www.barbyingle.com 

A Pain Poem: Only the Family Left to Tell

By Ingrid Hollis

How many pass, sight unseen
Only the family left to tell?
Yes, we know all too well
It was the pain.

Untreated, unheeded, so it goes
How engulfed in a fiery foe, left untended
It grew from head to toe.

Only the family left to tell,
How this kind of pain, left untreated,
They quickly go.

We cannot afford to go backwards in time,
Too many lost to pain unheeded
To "it’s all in your head” and “no one dies."
For die they do, a horrible fate.

When pain can be treated,
Make no mistake,
Pain knows no limits when untreated it goes.
Intractable suffering, it's horrible blows, becomes 24/7, and it never goes

How long can a heart beat, and a soul keep alive
When a body is stressed beyond limit?
And remember…
No one wants to die

Pain can be treated, make no mistake
Please discard this meme, this heartless theme
"Pain never killed anyone."
We've done it before.

We can't go backwards
We're better than that, we can do more.
Who decides our fate, it hangs in the balance
If intractable pain comes knocking on your door?

Will you be told to go away,
”Pain never killed anyone.”
Now please go away?

Ingrid Hollis is a person in pain and patient advocate. Ingrid recently retired from a leadership role in the Tennant Foundation’s Intractable Pain Syndrome Study and Education Project to care for her family.

Why I Am Stepping Back from Patient Advocacy

By Barby Ingle, PNN Columnist

Each year at Thanksgiving, our family has a tradition of choosing a community project to support. Every year we do something different: caroling, feeding the homeless, or spending time at the local nursing home. But 2006 was different. The year before, I was diagnosed with Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD), a chronic nerve disease that my late stepsister also developed.

We had much trouble getting help and care, so at our Thanksgiving dinner in 2006, we decided to start a 501c3 nonprofit to support the RSD community. Although we had joined other support groups and worked with other nonprofits, it was not what we expected. We wanted to be something different. We wanted to be inclusive of patients, caregivers, providers, legislators and providers treating RSD specifically.

But after the first year, we saw that the same challenges we were working to overcome with prevention, diagnostics, treatment and long-term care were happening to many patients dealing with other chronic pain conditions.

BARBY INGLE

Since helping to start the Power of Pain Foundation – also known as the International Pain Foundation (iPain) -- I learned a lot. I went to classes to learn more about RSD, as well as over 150 other chronic and rare disease conditions.

I would say I became an RSD expert, and over the years taught many healthcare professionals, patients, caregivers and industry leaders about treatments, long-term outcomes, and how to navigate the system from the patient point of view.

I have learned that not every patient wants help, not every patient needs help, and not every patient wants the help that you can give. Having a degree in social psychology was helpful. I understood why there are haters, naysayers and pessimists in the pain community. They are in all of society, why would they not be in our community? 

I remember when I was coaching Deb, our marketing director, she would tell me: “Everyone needs a break sometimes. Take your vacations, take your days off, and leave the job behind.”

Well, when you have a chronic illness, you can’t just leave it behind. I have tried. However, you can take time for yourself. It is not your job to help everyone, even if you want to. It is even more necessary to take care of yourself first.

Therefore, I am following Deb’s advice and stepping back. Mostly it’s because I grew tired of the negativity and hate that comes from being in the leadership position that I was in. Whenever we did an iPain project or chose a “Hero of Hope” recipient, I was thanked and would tell people that I only had one vote. But some did not understand that I literally had just one vote.

Today, I have no vote. As of January 1, 2023, I am no longer President of the iPain Foundation. I still love iPain, and I am still going to volunteer for projects and events. But I am going to take the next two years to do other projects and things for me as a patient, wife, sister and human.

The amount of hate I received over the years for doing something that I have passion for became just too much. I was often told, “You only get to do this because of your position” and “If I was in charge, I’d do it differently.”

To those who said that, watch what I do next. You can do many things, whether you have a position of leadership or not. You can take classes (there are many great ones online) and learn how to do the things you think are important. I have done that and will continue to do it. I will show the pain community that you can do big things without a leadership position. Yes, you can be a leader in action, without the title.  

I wish the 2023-24 leadership of iPain all the best, and hope they succeed everywhere with all they take on, create and produce for the pain community. I am glad to have the stress of the job off my shoulders. Am I done? Yes, I am out!

We will see if I join another board of directors in the future, but for now I will do what I have always done as a pain patient: go into the world to make a difference. I am excited to get back to writing columns for Pain News Network and iPain Living Magazine. I am working on a few more books to publish, some additional presenting, and working on legislation in the coming years.

I have a few of my bucket list items to check off, and I will go on more life adventures with my husband, Ken. Most of all, I will be excited to say more and do more of what I want to do, and not out of obligation for a position I was voted into.  

To the pain community: Be good to each other. Remember you get the help you can be given, not always the help you need. The anger, frustration and negative feelings you face are yours. They are normal feelings for a person in pain, but please also remember the person you reach out to for help may not be able to provide the help you want.

Keep going forward. The help you need is available, how you get there is optional. Taking out those negative feelings on others, especially the ones closest to you, is the ultimate way to drive others away. It is your choice. I choose to get out of the negativity and to work on making a difference. To be a little bit more concise, “You be the best you, I will be the best me, too.”

It can be a win-win situation for us both, which is always good. 

You can find me on my personal social media, you will see more articles from me at PNN and other outlets, and you can always check out my personal website to find out what I am up to next. There will be much more to come, and I promise to continue to make a difference and help in ways that I can. I hope I motivate you to do the same for yourself.  

Barby Ingle is a reality TV personality living with multiple rare and chronic diseases. She is a chronic pain educator, patient advocate, motivational speaker, and best-selling author on pain topics. Barby has received over 25 awards for her advocacy efforts over the years. You can follow her at www.barbyingle.com 

My Story: How I Was Medically Gaslighted

By Preslee Marshall, Guest Columnist

I remember the first time I experienced what felt like an electric shock sensation. It was a sudden zap out of nowhere, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

It started happening about once a month, then turned into once every two weeks. Before I knew it, this painful experience was happening several times a day with no apparent explanation. 

Recognizing that the pain I was feeling wasn’t normal, I went to a walk-in clinic to get answers. 

I went over my symptoms with a doctor and was told, “It’s probably just fibromyalgia. Do Tai Chi, it should help with that.”  

Confused, I asked the doctor to spell out what fibromyalgia was, as I hadn’t heard of it before. The way it was brushed off with “do Tai Chi,” I figured it couldn’t be too serious. 

Finding information online about fibromyalgia didn’t take much time or effort. This chronic disorder causes pain and tenderness throughout the body, fatigue and trouble sleeping. One thing that stood out to me was how some people with fibromyalgia wind up on disability.  

On the one hand, I could see the seriousness of fibromyalgia and how it can change people's lives. But on the other hand, I’m told to “do Tai Chi” with no official diagnosis or test.

What if the doctor was wrong? 

PRESLEE MARSHALL

I decided to contact another medical professional about my symptoms and to get testing done to rule out other possible conditions. I called my family doctor (sweet lady, but her office is too far from me) and told her what was happening. She brought up a few ideas on what she thinks could be the problem, such as multiple sclerosis or fibromyalgia, and sent in a referral for me to see a neurologist, which was a 6-month wait.  

As my pain worsened, I knew I couldn’t wait six months, so I called the walk-in clinic again and said that if it was fibromyalgia, then I should be sent for testing to determine that. I begged for an MRI test to rule out other illnesses, which I thought would help tremendously. I knew I needed to get referred as soon as possible if I wanted answers. 

The clinic assured me that the neurologist would send me for those tests anyway, and that there was no point in doing it now. In my heart, I knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. It took some convincing, but the clinic finally agreed to send the referral for an MRI.  

‘Get Your Nails Done’ 

After a long wait, it was finally time to see the neurologist, who I thought would solve my problems. I was wrong.  

The first question I was asked was if I had anxiety. After answering yes, I could tell that he was sold on that being the problem.  I’ve struggled with social anxiety for as long as I remember. I knew that this was not the case and said that to him.  

“It’s all in your head,” he said at the end of the appointment. “If you get your nails done, you’ll feel better.”  

I was shocked and devastated. I walked into the lobby, went straight to the bathroom, and cried. I knew the pain was real, but felt hopeless, wiping away my tears to head home.  

That same month, just to prove to myself that I didn’t imagine my symptoms, I got a manicure, pedicure, massage and facial. And I still felt awful! I needed to prove to the doctor that he was wrong. I had my upcoming MRI to look forward to. 

The day came and I got the MRI. The imaging test ruled out multiple sclerosis as a possibility, as well as other conditions. I brought those results back to my family doctor, who referred me to a rheumatologist.  

After seeing the MRI results, asking me a few questions, and giving me a pressure point test, the rheumatologist diagnosed me with fibromyalgia. At that point, it had been over a year and a half since I started noticing the symptoms. I felt grateful to finally have a diagnosis. 

Word of the Year 

After such a long ordeal and less-than-ideal treatment by medical professionals, I’m on a mission to raise awareness about medical gaslighting. 

Merriam-Webster, the oldest dictionary publisher in the United States, recently picked "gaslighting" as its word of the year. There are different forms of gaslighting, which Merriam-Webster defines this way: 

“Psychological manipulation of a person… that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator.” 

Medical gaslighting is when a healthcare provider makes a patient feel as though their perception of their own symptoms is false. A common phrase being, “It’s all in your head.” 

In my case, it was “do Tai Chi” and “get your nails done.”  

After suffering for well over a year and having medical professionals dismiss my symptoms, I realized that it was up to me to get myself properly diagnosed. 

I’d like to remind others who are struggling not to give up. It can feel like an impossible never-ending situation, but there are people in the medical field who will listen. 

Preslee Marshall, 25, is from Winnipeg, Manitoba. When she’s not busy managing her business, Preslee is traveling the world and unlocking new opportunities for her future. 

Do you have a “My Story” to share? Pain News Network invites other readers to share their experiences about living with pain and treating it. Send your stories to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

First, Do No Harm

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

When living in immense amounts of pain, it can be common to regularly dismiss minor inconveniences that would greatly perturb others, if not hinder them immensely.

Speaking from personal experience, I’ve permitted medical situations to worsen due to my tolerance for ailments, as opposed to promptly treating them. What’s one more thing, right?  

But when it begins to get unmanageable and my go-to treatments aren’t working, I’m often at a loss to calm a pain flare or break a pain cycle. Sometimes I am left with no other choice than my absolute least favorite thing to do — which is go to the ER. 

Recently I was severely dehydrated, the main reason I ever visit an emergency department. Because without retaining adequate water, there can be little improvement in any of my other symptoms. I essentially have given up on the pursuit of pain relief.

It’s typical that when I convey my reasons for being at the ER -- such as days or weeks of an unbreakable migraine or a never-ending cluster headache attack -- there’s judgment about my sincerity regarding conditions that don’t present themselves as a broken bone or bleeding cut.

I recall a time before I retired from nursing, when a patient came in with severe head pain. Knowing what that is like, I ensured dimmed lighting, used a soft voice, closed the blinds, and just moved in a way that I’d appreciate if I was the one lying in the bed. Which is far more often than I’d like.   

A colleague stormed in, turned on the lights and basically shouted at the patient. He later conveyed a disbelief for the patient’s claims -- even though the oath we took includes trusting discomfort as being just as the patient describes it.

The fact of the matter is that no one is able to fully comprehend another person’s pain. And it’s not up for any of us to have a final say on what we don’t personally experience.   

For years, providers have been up in arms regarding the misuse of opioid medication, and as a result are trying to over-correct a mistake that was never the patient’s fault. It’s now impossible for many of us to receive adequate pain relief.   

This has led to a distrust in the healthcare system and is also playing a large role in the number of lost lives we’re seeing.  One of the leading causes of death is suicide. And one of the leading causes of disability is depression. There’s definitely no shortage of reasons to feel down. What’s occurring in our world is cause for chronic sadness. 

As I sat there in the ER with my shades on, while picking up on their shade, I had to use all my might to explain why I was there – telling them my history and answering their questions. There are no words to adequately explain what it’s like to go through inquisitions like that so many times. To have hundreds of appointments, spend countless hours on the phone or in waiting rooms, and fighting for a proper diagnosis. Not to mention all the trial and error treatments, and the constant “permission slip” signing of authorizations just to be seen.  

Having been through it for as long as I have, it has caused its own form of trauma, something I believe is underappreciated. There are moments when I’m not even able to bring myself to enter a medical clinic due to the impact of things like being stereotyped, not believed or even helped. 

This could obviously lead anyone to seek out some sort of way to assist or soothe on their own. That includes, but isn’t limited to, checking out of their own physical existence. I’ve felt pushed to contemplate that a number of times, which I’m not ashamed to admit. Because this needs to be talked about more.   

The healthcare system often fails to such an extent that people are left to feel as though they have no other choice than to find an exit. If only things were set up to truly be concerned about our well-being. Then suicide prevention would look a lot like harm reduction, in the form of providing basic needs like affordable housing, food security and access to mental health resources.  

The medical-industrial complex can lead a person to believe their life does not matter. I live on in spite of it and to honor those who are gone.

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill. Mia is the recipient of the International Pain Foundation’s “Hero of Hope” award for 2022.

Pain Sufferers Are Unfairly Stigmatized

By Marimée Godbout-Parent, University of Quebec

Imagine living with pain every day for months, or even years — pain that is so intrusive, it disrupts every day of your life. Unfortunately, this is the daily reality of millions of people living with chronic pain. And all too often, they find their condition being stigmatized or even denied outright.

As a doctoral student in the epidemiology of chronic pain, I have the opportunity to work with patient partners. Given the high prevalence and multiple impacts of this disease, it is high time we started working to change attitudes and confront the prejudices that surround it. 

Before discussing chronic pain, let’s start at the beginning. Is pain always a negative thing? Of course not. Pain is essential to our proper functioning. It acts as an alarm system to warn us of danger.

For example, if we were to accidentally put our hand on a hot stove top, a pain message would be sent to our brain. Before we even had time to think about it, we would remove our hand from the hot surface, avoiding an intense burn in the process. This pain provides us with the reflexes we need in order to avoid the worst situations.

Pain can also last a little longer. This is the case, for example, after an injury, an operation or an infection. This pain will often resolve itself after a normal healing cycle or disappear with the help of treatment. This is called acute pain. Short-term pain like this is perceived more as a symptom.

Chronic Pain Is a Disease

When pain persists beyond the normal healing time, it is no longer considered simply a symptom, but a disease in its own right. This is called chronic pain. Chronic pain is defined as pain that persists for a minimum of three months. Yet, for the vast majority of people living with this disease, the pain persists for several years.

In these people, the pain message is somehow missing. It is no longer present to warn us of dangers, but becomes a burden on its own. Chronic pain can occur as a result of cancer, an accident, or after surgery. Unfortunately, sometimes we are unable to find the cause. This makes it difficult to treat.

Although this disease is not widely recognized, it is estimated to affect about 20 per cent of the Canadian population. Considering that our population in 2022 is estimated to be close to 39 million, this would mean that approximately 7.5 million people are living with chronic pain. For the purpose of comparison, 7.5 million Canadians is equivalent to the entire population of Québec. It’s an impressive and worrisome number.

In addition to affecting a large portion of the population, chronic pain causes more than just physical pain. The disease affects the daily functioning, psychological well-being, quality of life, social life and work of the people afflicted by it.

Imagine having so much pain that it reduces your ability to work, play with your children, see your friends or concentrate and even affects your ability to carry out everyday tasks. Despite the person’s desire to stay active, the body just can’t keep up. So it’s not surprising that consequences such as fatigue, frustration, sadness, anxiety and depression follow. The constant overlap between physical, psychological and social difficulties creates deep distress in this population.

Facing Prejudice

Despite the significant impacts associated with it, chronic pain remains largely stigmatized. Indeed, negative attitudes and beliefs that people living with chronic pain have become dependent on their medications, that they are exaggerating the severity of their condition, are just lazy or do not want to help themselves are widespread.

Chronic pain is a very real disease.

So, knowing the multiple consequences and prevalence of chronic pain, why is there still so much prejudice and stigma towards those who suffer from it?

The question remains unanswered. For some, what we cannot see simply does not exist. Because pain is an experience that varies from person to person, because we don’t have a specific tool for detecting it or because we can’t necessarily see it, pain can seem invisible. We have a harder time feeling sympathy or understanding for things that cannot be explained medically with medical tests or X-rays.

So, despite the many explanations offered by patients, they often have to deal with prejudices from health professionals, their entourage or the general population. Many people living with chronic pain feel that their pain is not understood by their friends, family, employers or even their health-care professionals, which adds to their feelings of helplessness, sadness and anger. In addition to dealing with the difficulties that chronic pain brings, these comments place an inestimable burden on sufferers.

Francine, who has been living with chronic pain for 15 years, regularly receives these types of comments from her family and friends:

“Well, you’ve only been walking for 10 minutes, you can do more. Just try harder.”

Sylvie, who has lived with chronic pain for 17 years, has to deal with her doctor’s comments:

“You are the only patient I have not been able to relieve with cortisone shots in 40 years, so perhaps you should consult a psychologist instead.”

These phrases, which can sound harmless to some, are often loaded with meaning for those who hear them on a daily basis. Accepting chronic pain as a disease is an important and difficult step. It should not be coupled with such pejorative comments.

Without being experts in the field, we can all play a role, in one way or another, in the lives of these people. Offering an active and understanding ear, not making quick judgments and acknowledging their condition is already a huge step in the right direction.

Support and communication with those around you are elements that should not be neglected and can certainly make a positive difference.

Marimée Godbout-Parent is a doctoral student in health sciences research at the University of Quebec in Abitibi-Témiscamingue. She has received funding from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research.

This article was written in collaboration with Sylvie Beaudoin and Christian Bertrand, patient partners. It originally appeared in The Conversation and is republished with permission.

We Need To Do a Better Job Educating the Public About Chronic Pain

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

It seems the pain community is so sharply focused on opioids that we tend to ignore what may be a more important issue: getting the public to understand chronic pain.

I hadn’t given it much thought, but a recent conversation with a friend brought it home to me.

“Jennifer” believed that someone with gender or sexual identity issues could be helped through talk therapy, mindfulness and relaxation techniques. Basically, anything that would take their minds off their struggles with sexuality.  

I told her people in pain get some of the same suggestions.

“What you're saying reminds me of what many people say about those of us in chronic pain, that psychotherapy, mindfulness and relaxation techniques can relieve our pain or even cure it. In reality, they don’t,” I said.

“Oh yes, they can,” Jennifer replied. “You have pain management doctors who offer mindfulness, psychotherapy and relaxation techniques. So, you do have cures.”

I shook my head, somewhat in sorrow.

“No, people who have incurable disorders like mine, trigeminal neuralgia, or other painful diseases like CRPS, Ehlers Danlos, lupus or multiple sclerosis won’t be helped by mindfulness or talk therapy. Those types of things don’t end the pain or cure the disease.”

To my amazement, this woman who holds her convictions very dear, replied, “You just taught me something. I didn't know that.”

And why should she? It is rare, if ever, that we hear chronic pain conditions called by name. The media doesn't do it, and we don’t usually hear or say it in general conversation. The name of the disease or disorder, and the level of pain they cause, usually go unmentioned.

We do hear about back pain, knee pain and other “aches and pains” that can be helped by braces, heat therapy, relaxation, and so on -- which helps further the belief that chronic pain is easily treatable. That is not to say back pain can’t be as debilitating as other disorders, but it is so common that it is taken for granted.

I think some of the blame falls on us. Many people think we act like addicts when we clamor for opioid medication. We resist efforts to reduce the dose and refuse to consider other therapies, many of which we’ve already tried.

We ignore the reality that we do not have a “right” to opioids. We have the right to get healthcare when we go to the doctor, but they have the right to decide what therapy and medications they will prescribe, if any.

As long as we spotlight our need for opioids, while ignoring the public’s lack of knowledge about painful diseases and disorders that can’t be cured, the more I fear we will continue to be ignored and disbelieved. And the more we’ll hear about talk therapy and mindfulness.

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.

My Story: How Opioid Therapy Saved Me and My Family

By Kim Halvorson, Guest Columnist 

I have had reoccurring pain episodes since I was 16 years old.  The one and only doctor we had on the Flathead reservation in Montana created even more problems for me than he solved. First, he offered me opioids (it was the 70’s) and wanted to inject the knots in my body with cortisone, without any diagnoses. My mother and I decided against his advice and began nutrition, exercise and therapy -- both mental and physical.  

When I was almost 30, the same doctor offered me a "new miracle med" that would block the pain signals in my brain. He prescribed the antidepressant amitriptyline, and I had my one and only manic episode. If he had taken any time to recognize my hyper self, maybe he would not have given me an antidepressant without any warnings about its side effects.  The strongest medicine I had ever taken, at that point in my life, was Tylenol.    

It took me a few years to recover from that total breakdown. Waking up in a psych ward is more than a little scary.  But the psychiatrist there listened to me and tried many different medications, until we landed on Klonipin and Trazodone to help me sleep. That was my answer for almost 30 years.

When my two sons were active toddlers, the pain bouts became too much.  My first opioid, at age 40, came with common sense and compassion from a wise and caring doctor. She could not find the underlying cause of my pain, but knew I was telling the truth. After all, I had said no to opioids for 25 years.   

She would write only 3 opioid scripts a year. If I needed more, then we’d have to find out what was going on inside my body. That worked for 10 years. And it taught me discipline.     

KIM HALVERSON

At age 50, I broke my back in 3 places and required daily opioids to move at all.  The doctor linked my meds to better physical function, and I was on that dose for 5 years without an increase. Opioids helped me to hold onto our house and attend my sons' games --- both of them are athletes.    

Then came the "big scare" as I call it.  When Florida lost its mind and went after the pill mills. The country over-reacted to the opioid crisis and in many places still is. The truth about Florida became a fiction about Montana and everywhere else, it seems. The pain clinic that had saved my little family for 5 years got rid of me and many other patients to protect their practice.        

For the next 4 years, a local clinic and a brave nurse practitioner bucked the system and got me half of what I needed.  It was better than nothing and I “saved up” pills by staying in bed until a game was on or some work had to be done.  Those 4 years were hard on me, and I ended up in a wheelchair and incontinent. 

I kept looking for a reasonable doctor and eventually found one. Once I was put back on the dose that worked for those 5 years, it only took a few months to regain my strength enough to face surgery and get a new artificial hip.      

The new hip was supposed to reduce my pain, but my pain level doubled. A new doctor found out why. I had scoliosis, and the surgery that was supposed to help me had locked me into pain 24/7. The first year after the new hip, a lump formed in my back and my body felt the pain I had been trying to avoid all my life.      

I know what is causing my pain now and why certain injuries were far worse than I thought they would be. That hip that looked “blown up” on an x-ray was the fulcrum of my frame, a curve in my spine and I have been wrestling with since I was 16.      

Even knowing all of this, my pain doctor felt pressured to stop helping people like me or anyone with opioids. I was abandoned, but found another doctor who just recently stopped calling himself a “pain management specialist” because of what is still happening to other doctors.    

I am already looking for the next reasonable doctor, just in case, but it is not supposed to be this way.  We shouldn’t have to fight this hard to live any kind of life.    

All of us need to join the fight. We need to start with ourselves and our support team, and then we must find allies within the medical profession and help them help us.  I will protect my three doctors completely.  I never do anything that could be misconstrued by anyone and often supply them with information to protect themselves, just in case.    

And then we all need to share our story.  Help each other with those stories.  Become our own best experts and advocates.   

Kim Halvorson lives outside Missoula, Montana.  

Do you have a “My Story” to share? Pain News Network invites other readers to share their experiences about living with pain and treating it. Send your stories to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

5 Tips to Keep Your Pain and Stress Levels Down Over the Holidays

By Victoria Reed, PNN Columnist

Christmas is my favorite holiday, as it is for many people. Once Thanksgiving is over, I start getting excited for this once a year “season” when I get to wear my favorite sweaters, sing Christmas songs and shop till I drop! My home is transformed with decorations, lights and a Christmas tree filled with ornaments, old and new.

My mood is jovial, though the pain is still there, albeit faded into the background amid the distractions of holiday preparations.

My family has always celebrated Christmas. As a child, I remember lying in bed and being excited for Santa Claus to come. Of course, as I grew older, the anticipation and excitement waned a bit, as I eventually realized there was no Santa. However, I was always grateful for what I received and loved Christmas morning with my family. I treasure those memories from my childhood.

Though it’s a happy time for many people, the holiday season can bring stress, sadness or even loneliness to people suffering from chronic pain. It can be difficult for us to do some of the things we were once able to do effortlessly. Going to crowded stores and standing in long lines can be difficult if you suffer from back or joint pain. Fatigue can increase as well.

For some, the distraction of the holiday season might make your pain seem better, because you’re simply not thinking about it as much as you spend time with friends and family, attend holiday parties, eat delicious food, and take in the sights of Christmas. All can seem well, at least temporarily.

But for many pain sufferers, pain can actually increase over the holidays, due to increased demands on the body and the stress of shopping, entertaining and preparing holiday meals. 

I spend a good deal of time choosing gifts for my family. I also like to make gifts that have a more personal touch. But that sometimes triggers rheumatoid arthritis flares in my hands and wrists, and causes my neck and shoulders to get sore from sitting in one position for too long.

My fibromyalgia also seems to get worse as soon as the weather turns cold. I live in northeast Ohio and it is definitely not easy this time of year, but I can somehow tolerate winter weather. In fact, having snow on the ground actually contributes to that magical feeling of Christmas.

Regardless of what climate you live in, here are 5 tips to prevent your pain from worsening during the busy holiday season:

1. Shop online. This will allow you to avoid stressful traffic and crowded stores. You are also less likely to catch a cold, flu or covid when you shop from the comfort of your own home.

2. Limit gatherings to smaller groups to reduce stress and pain.

3. Eat healthier. The old saying is true: You are what you eat! You may be tempted to feast on cookies, pies and fatty holiday dishes, but you will pay a price for it. Stomach aches, sluggishness and weight gain are some of the side effects of Christmas.

4. Start shopping early and wrap your presents early. If you wrap a few gifts per day vs. all of them at once, you’ll be less tired and less sore from being hunched over. 

5. Keep exercising (if you are able), even if it’s just stretching or walking. If your muscles are tight, that tension will increase pain. Staying fit will help you navigate those long lines and crowds if you choose to shop in stores.

While the holiday season can be stressful for those of us suffering from chronic pain, taking precautions and making smart choices will ensure a fun and memorable holiday season, without the added discomfort.

Victoria Reed lives in northeast Ohio. She suffers from endometriosis, fibromyalgia, degenerative disc disease and rheumatoid arthritis. 

There Is Another Drug Reform Bill the Senate Must Pass

By Michael C. Barnes, Guest Columnist

After last month’s midterm elections, the U.S. Senate passed the Medical Marijuana and Cannabidiol Expansion Research Act. The House had passed the bill in April, and President Biden signed it into law on December 2. The new law has been described as “modest” because it mostly facilitates research on marijuana and cannabidiol to support the development of medications for approval by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

The law also eliminates a longstanding regulatory roadblock that has prevented marijuana research; hindered the development of marijuana-derived, FDA-approved medications; and led to 37 state-regulated markets for marijuana products that do not meet federal consistency, purity, and potency standards. New research can be expected to yield marijuana-derived medications that the FDA can approve.

There is another regulatory burden that the Senate must eliminate before the end of this year. This change in federal law would also be modest, but it would facilitate access to treatment for opioid use disorder (OUD), which is essential amid the nationwide fentanyl poisoning crisis. S. 3257 would expand the time health care providers can hold long-acting, injectable buprenorphine (an FDA-approved medication for OUD) from 14 days to 60 days. It’s that simple. But like the new marijuana research law, the modest change will make a significant difference.

In the 12 months that ended June 30, 2022, 102,842 people died of a drug poisoning. Of those, 69,150 involved synthetic opioids, predominantly illegal fentanyl. Facilitating access to evidence-based treatment for OUD is more important now than ever. Changing the law cannot wait until the next Congress gets up and running.

S.3257 would amend the Controlled Substances Act, which currently requires that a health care provider administer injectable buprenorphine OUD medication to the patient named on the prescription within 14 days after the medication was delivered to the provider. The supposed purpose of the 14-day limit is to prevent the diversion of the medication to the illicit market.

But in 2020, the Government Accountability Office (GAO) reported that “all of the provider groups GAO spoke with said that diversion of injectable … buprenorphine is unlikely, and representatives from three of the six provider groups said that the design of these formulations reduce opportunities for diversion due to how they are administered.”

For patients and providers, the 14-day limit is too short considering the coordination required to facilitate injectable buprenorphine prescribing, insurance coverage and payment, delivery and receipt, and appointment scheduling and attendance. Sixty days are necessary to ensure that medication administration may take place at a time when the patient, provider, and medication are available.

Additionally, the 14-day limit wastes valuable health care resources and places patients’ recovery and lives at risk. For example, if an insured patient is not able to attend a medical appointment on or before the 14th day after the injectable buprenorphine was delivered to his or her provider, the medication must be disposed of.

It is unlikely that an insurer would pay for a replacement product, and it is common for patients not to be able to pay for medications out of pocket. As a result, a patient may be forced to go without a week or months’ worth of medication for OUD. This situation can put the patient at risk for a recurrence of OUD symptoms, active substance use, poisoning by illicit substance, and death.

In June, the House of Representatives passed H.R. 7666 with broad bipartisan support. Section 264 of H.R. 7666 contains a provision expanding the 14-day limit to 60 days.

In passing the marijuana research act, the Senate proved itself willing and capable of enacting modest yet meaningful drug reforms during its lame-duck session. To prevent drug poisonings and avoid wasting lifesaving medications, the Senate must do so again by expanding the 14-day limit to 60 days.

Michael C. Barnes is the managing attorney for Sequel Health Law. He serves as counsel to Aimed Alliance, a not-for-profit health policy organization.

The goal of Aimed Alliance is to create a society in which consumers can make informed and individually appropriate decisions about their health care, without those decisions being overridden by third parties.

My Story: Why We’re Fighting the DEA

By Louis Ogden, Guest Columnist

I have been troubled by severe and chronic intractable pain since childhood, beginning at age 6.  I am now 72 years old. My earliest memories of pain are of aching in my legs so bad I remember crying myself to sleep.  My parents took me to doctors who said the aches were “growing pains” that would go away as I got older. 

My pain gradually got worse as I grew older and expanded to be body-wide. The worst pain of all was in my neck and upper back, along with incredibly severe head pain. It felt as if my skull was being crushed in every direction. I first remember having the head pain at age 12, but doctors had no answers for my parents and me. 

I finally got a diagnosis of fibromyalgia from a family doctor in 1990 at age 40. I can still remember his exact words when I asked him if there was anything he could give me for the pain.   

"Yes I could, but I won't because it would require opioids and you would be a junkie within two weeks,” the doctor said.  

I carried on with my life, usually with a tin of Excedrin in my pocket that I took to get me through each day. I did have many symptoms of fibromyalgia and it was good to finally have a diagnosis, but it didn’t seem to explain the crushing head pain.  

The pain grew so bad in my 40’s that I could no longer stand to do the demanding physical work required of an electrician and was forced to retire early. 

I was couch-bound most of the time and went on a 13-year search to find a solution to this painful existence. 

I saw many physicians and tried many treatments and medications, including opioids. Unfortunately, none of the therapies or medications eased my pain to tolerable levels. 

LOUIS and kristen OGDEN

Finding Relief With High Doses

In 2010, I sought out more aggressive pain care using high-dose opioid therapy as a last resort.  Dr. Forest Tennant of California took over my care. I think it was at my third appointment with Dr. Tennant when he told my wife Kristen and I that I probably would not have a very long life. I was 60 when he told us that bad news, but I am now 72 and still kicking thanks to his treatment protocol.   

After a thorough review of my medical records, a physical evaluation and various assessments, Dr. Tennant prescribed OxyContin, as well as oxycodone and morphine for breakthrough pain. He titrated me up to where I was comfortable and enjoying the highest quality of life I’d ever had as an adult.  The daily dose I was taking was close to 3,000 morphine milligram equivalent (MME), which is considered quite high. 

For 8 years, I continued on that same regimen. I did not need, nor did I ask for a higher dose, as I was doing great on the daily dose as stabilized.  

Dr. Tennant eventually diagnosed me with Arachnoiditis and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS). These rare, but very painful syndromes account for my body-wide, complex, constant and severe pain, including the crushing head pain. I believe I inherited EDS from my mother, her mother, and the maternal line of descent going back at least 6 generations. The exact causes of my need for such high doses of opioids may never be proven, but probably include anomalies of absorption, metabolism and receptor damage due to EDS.  

Once titrated up to an effective dose, I was a very happy, well-adjusted person with a good quality of life, no longer couch-bound in agony and once again able to participate in social activities and perform household chores. My medicine enables this, and I have no sensation of pleasure or “high” of any kind. In fact, people that I meet have no idea that I am on a very high dose of opioids. I do not slur my words, nor am I disoriented. 

The DEA Gets Involved  

After Dr. Tennant was forced into retirement by the DEA in 2018 over unsubstantiated allegations of drug trafficking, I moved on to another doctor in California who kept lowering my dose. It left me not feeling well enough to stay active and enjoy my life, so I moved on to become a patient of Dr. David Bockoff, who assured me at my first appointment that he would do his best to help my pain.  He increased my dose to a level that allowed me to be much more comfortable.   

As PNN has reported, the DEA last month suspended Dr. Bockoff’s registration to prescribe opioids and other controlled drugs, which soon led to the death of one of his patients. Danny Elliott was so distraught over losing his pain medication that he committed suicide, along with his wife Gretchen. The Elliotts were friends of ours and confidants, as we have dealt for years with many of the same problems finding appropriate pain care.  

I am also now facing a life with no pain control and the very serious complications of withdrawal and untreated constant, severe pain.  This situation is very frightening to me, as my blood pressure may spike and I could possibly die of heart failure, an aneurysm or a stroke when/if I run out of medicine.   

The families of several of Dr. Bockoff’s patients, including my wife and I, have pooled our resources and retained the services of an experienced, well-qualified attorney who views our case as a violation of our civil rights. To the best of our knowledge, this is the first time that abandoned pain patients have fought back in such a manner.  If we prove our case with the DEA, the suspension order that prevents Dr. Bockoff from prescribing our medications could be lifted and we will get our good doctor back.   

If we do not win at this stage, we will take our case to the next legal step. In the meantime, some 240 patients of Dr. Bockoff are left with no help and no access to life-saving medications.   

It is my understanding that a few more pain management physicians are considering leaving their practices in the near future. As a result, thousands of additional pain patients may soon lose their lifelines to the medications they so desperately need to function. The DEA has a lot of blood on its hands, with possibly more to come. 

Louis Ogden and his wife Kristen live in Virginia. Dr. Tennant and the Tennant Foundation give financial support to Pain News Network and sponsor PNN’s Patient Resources section.  

Do you have a “My Story” to share? Pain News Network invites other readers to share their experiences about living with pain and treating it. Send your stories to editor@painnewsnetwork.org

Insurers Can Cause Pain Too

By Victoria Reed, PNN Columnist

Having chronic pain or illness means that you likely take multiple medications and go to the doctor often. That means dealing with your insurance carrier to get claims filed and paid.

One of the medications that I use for my rheumatoid arthritis is quite expensive. In fact, many of the biologics commonly prescribed for RA and other autoimmune conditions are very pricey, costing thousands of dollars a month depending on insurance. Before starting a biologic, it usually needs to be pre-approved by your insurance company.

This pre-approval process can delay or even stall treatment altogether.  With RA, insurers usually require that you to try a particular biologic or disease modifying anti-rheumatic drug (DMARD) before you are approved for a more expensive one. This red tape can and does cause harm to patients as they wait for the insurance review, which can take up to three or four weeks.

During that time, doctors can treat patients with steroids or pain medications, which can help keep symptoms at bay. However, the biologics are primarily what keeps the disease from causing destructive and permanent damage.

Insurance companies are businesses, like any other, and their goal is to make money. But as they look for cheaper medication options and create red tape, the delay can literally leave you in more pain while you wait for a decision. Unfortunately, insurers control the purse strings and sometimes they seem to have more say in a patient’s care than doctors themselves.

Recently, I tried to complete a refill of my biologic medication, Actemra, through the specialty pharmacy that I use. I ordered it online and waited for the email confirmation of shipping, but after a few days I noticed that it didn’t arrive. I contacted the pharmacy’s customer service department to inquire about its status and was told that the required pre-approval had not been done by my doctor’s office: No medication would be shipped until that paperwork was completed.

I then contacted my doctor’s office to advise them of the delay and requested that they complete the required paperwork. Then I patiently waited. After nearly two weeks of being without my medication, the shipment finally arrived. Two weeks can seem like a lifetime if you’re in severe pain!

This pre-approval requirement makes no sense to me, as I’ve been taking Actemra for many years. RA is a lifelong condition that does not go away or get better on its own. Medications to control the condition are usually taken for the duration of your life. So why would my doctor need to submit pre-approval paperwork every six months?                   

Money! It’s as simple as that. Insurers look for ways to delay or avoid paying for an expensive medication..  

I’m sure I’m not the only one experiencing this. Cancer patients also must deal with their insurance company’s control over what drugs they can take to save their lives or improve their quality of life. My father lived with cancer for many years before he passed. Even towards the end of his life, the issue of what meds he was allowed to have was front and center, controlled and dictated by his insurer.

Patients can die because an insurance company refused to pay for a drug that they deemed too expensive. They prioritize profit over people’s lives and have far too much control over patient care.

If you find yourself in a battle with your insurance company over a medication that your doctor prescribed, you do have some options.  You don’t have to just accept a denial. Most insurers allow you to appeal an adverse decision, and sometimes they will change their minds after an appeal or receipt of additional supporting documentation.

You can also request that your doctor send a letter of medical necessity, which would document your need for the drug. In addition, you can request that the insurer do a physician level peer-to-peer review. This is a review that is used by insurance professionals to determine whether to uphold the denial of coverage for a particular medication or claim.

Sometimes utilizing these additional avenues will result in your medication being allowed. Still, any delay in treatment could be detrimental to your health or cause you additional pain while you wait through the appeal process. Some people may find it easier to just take a cheaper drug recommended by the insurer.

Chronic pain sufferers have enough to deal with on a daily basis and we don’t need the additional stress of engaging in a battle with our insurance carriers. Nor do we need unnecessary red tape delays, which are solely designed to save the insurer money.

Patients may not have the energy, time or knowledge to navigate the tricky tactics insurers use to pad their bottom line – which is where a patient advocate could help. Advocates can negotiate with the insurer on your behalf, and can also help you communicate with your medical providers and set up appointments. They can be close friends, family members, spouses or even someone from an organization, such as the Patient Advocate Foundation.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. We also need a village of resources to deal with chronic illness and all of the hassles that come with it.

Victoria Reed lives in northeast Ohio. She suffers from endometriosis, fibromyalgia, degenerative disc disease and rheumatoid arthritis. 

12 Holiday Gifts for Caregivers and the People They Care For

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

How do you take care of yourself when you feel overwhelmed taking care of someone with a disabling chronic illness? Can an anti-inflammatory diet help prevent migraines? What is “ableism” and how does it harm the disabled? Will they ever find a cure for long covid?

The answers to these and other questions can be found in our annual holiday gift guide. If you’re a healthcare provider, caregiver or you live with chronic pain and illness -- here are 12 books that would make great gifts over the holidays. Or you can always “gift” one to yourself.

Click on the book’s cover to see price and ordering information. PNN receives a small amount of the proceeds -- at no additional cost to you -- for orders placed through Amazon.

The Long Haul: Solving the Puzzle of the Pandemic’s Long Haulers

This timely book by Ryan Prior looks at how the Covid-19 pandemic left millions of people around the world with chronic fatigue, pain and other disabling symptoms. Many of these “long haulers” are now fighting for recognition and treatments for a puzzling new disease that could be challenging the healthcare system for decades to come.

Self-Care for Caregivers

In this handbook for caregivers, Susan White offers tips on how to maintain good physical and mental health, and how to avoid feeling angry, lonely and frustrated. Regular self-care is vital for caregivers, and means finding time to relax, rejuvenate and reconnect with others.

I’m Fine: A Practical Guide to Life with Chronic Pain

After a series of failed spinal fusions, author Toni Woodard has lived with chronic back pain for over 25 years. In this book, she describes how physical and emotional pain can impact work, relationships and mental health, and shares some simple practical lessons on how to manage pain and still enjoy life.

Raising Lazarus

The sequel to Dopesick, Beth Macy’s latest book takes a more nuanced approach to the opioid crisis, briefly acknowledging that many pain patients were harmed by the backlash against opioid medication. But Raising Lazarus primarily deals with Purdue Pharma’s corporate greed and the ongoing struggles of working-class people in Appalachia to overcome addiction and a healthcare system that doesn’t work for them.

The Migraine Relief Plan Cookbook

Author Stephanie Weaver spent years researching and interviewing migraine sufferers and healthcare providers about ways to relieve migraine pain through good nutrition. The result is this cookbook, filled with over 100 anti-inflammatory recipes for meals, snacks and drinks — all designed to help manage migraines, headaches and chronic pain.

Clinical Diagnosis and Treatment of Adhesive Arachnoiditis

It’s fair to say most doctors don’t know what adhesive arachnoiditis (AA) is, much less how treat it, which is why Dr. Forest Tennant wrote this handbook about the chronic and debilitating inflammatory disease of spinal nerves. The book will help clinicians understand the various causes of AA; how to diagnose it through lab tests, MRIs and patient symptoms; and how to treat AA through hormone therapy, good nutrition and medication.

The Nurse Practitioners’ Guide to Autoimmune Medicine

Dr. David Bilstrom wrote this book primarily to help healthcare providers diagnose and treat autoimmune disease — but patients will find it easy to understand. Chapters explore symptoms and diagnostic testing, as well as the stress, toxins, and hormone and vitamin deficiencies that cause autoimmune problems. Bilstrom takes a holistic approach to treatment, emphasizing diet and lifestyle changes over antibiotics and medication.

Wildest Hunger

The fourth in a series of paranormal crime novels by Laura Laasko, who lives with Ehlers-Danlos and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Laasko believes chronic illness is poorly represented in fiction, so many of her characters are given invisible illnesses like EDS to help educate readers about what it’s like to have a disability and manage its symptoms.

Year of the Tiger: An Activist’s Life

A collection of essays on living with disability by Alice Wong, founder and director of the Disability Visibility Project. Wong is a fierce critic of “ableism” — systemic discrimination and prejudice against disabled people, who are often defined and devalued by society for what they can’t do, as opposed to what they can.

Tao Calligraphy: To Heal and Rejuvenate Your Back

Dr. Master Zhi Gang Sha introduces readers to the ancient Chinese healing art of calligraphy, which professes to transform health, relationships and all aspects of life through positive energy and spirituality. This book focuses on healing back pain — and comes with QR codes that readers can scan to access videos that will help them rejuvenate their backs. Some reviewers claim just putting the book on their backs gave them pain relief!

The Hard Sell: Crime and Punishment at an Opioid Startup

Journalist Evan Hughes lays bare the inside story of Insys Therapeutics, a pharmaceutical startup that deceived insurers, corrupted doctors, and used brazen sales tactics to market Subsys, a potent and expensive fentanyl spray. The scheme made a fortune for Insys until federal investigators began looking into hundreds of overdose deaths and prosecuted company executives for drug trafficking.

The Song of Our Scars: The Untold Story of Pain

Chronic pain was a “distant, hazy concept” for Dr. Haider Warraich until he began experiencing it himself after a severe back injury. In this book, he explores the cultural and medical history of pain from ancient Greece through modern times — concluding that today’s healthcare system is broken and leaves many patients with chronic pain worse off than they were before.

These and other books and videos about living with chronic pain and illness can be found in PNN’s Suggested Reading section.

Why Words Can Hurt

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

When my pain journey began over two decades ago, I didn’t have a “survival technique” or “coping mechanism.”  It was the ideology behind "positivity " that aligned most with me.

Any fixation on my ailments would have surely led to my death. In fact, it almost did, because anyone would start to lose it after experiencing what I and many others have: a lifelong, incurable, untreatable and unending physical discomfort.

Given the negativity that surrounds such an existence, my mission in life became to seek out the silver lining of things. I remind myself that life is a fragile gift, which helps to center and ground me. A slogan I've lived by is: I'd rather be alive and hurting than 6 feet under and feeling nothing.

But as the years passed and medical complications intensified, making the choice to strive toward an attitude of empowerment became not quite as achievable or potent as it had been. I found myself struggling in ways I wasn't sure how to manage. A life I'd rebuilt from scratch began slipping away into chronic oblivion -- yet again.

The distress reluctantly led me back into a clinical setting, where a healthcare professional shook me to my core by declaring: “You claim to be positive, but you're not. You aren’t living that." 

I was stunned! This person did not really know me. I felt overwhelmed at their audacity to make such an outrageous accusation! 

"I’m one of the most positive people I know," I told him. 

"It's not a decision you've made," was his reply.   

I left so perturbed. How dare they?

This individual knew nothing about how my body typically feels, the strength it takes to greet a new day, or to spend and wager absolutely every energy penny I possess just to make it through.

I sat with this experience for a long time, until a light bulb went on and I was faced with the realization: the provider was right!

As my disorders evolve or shift, different approaches and modalities are going to be required. This includes our attitude and mindset. Until then, I wasn’t fully embracing a more uplifting way to live. The pursuit of wellness had been solely residing inside my head, as opposed to being a place where I operated from. Positivity is a lifestyle that needs to be practiced.  

It wasn't possible for me to move forward while also clinging so tightly to my past. I have been shaped by those experiences and wouldn't be who I am without them, but they are not an adequate reflection or accurate depiction of my identity.

For example, a loved one recently shared their disinterest in associating themselves with the word “trauma.” This is somebody whose life has consisted of experiences most would consider to be the worst trauma, but they’ve chosen not to embrace that terminology. Someone else I care about refuses to identify with the word “victim.”

Personally, I attempt to steer clear of words such as “suffering” or being a “patient.” I also refrain from describing something as “negative” or “positive.” That labeling limits my overall perception and eliminates the ability to accept something as it is happening. 

The more I’m preoccupied with judgment or labeling, the less space there is for compassion and curiosity to exist. Of course, there’s nothing wrong in identifying with these phrases -- I certainly have. We’re also trying to gain acceptance from the general public, and relating to our “suffering” and “trauma” makes it more understandable. 

But the power of words and the way we refer to ourselves, interact with one another, and tell our stories, does matter. We need to use the words selectively, without letting ourselves be defined by them.       

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill. Mia is the recipient of the International Pain Foundation’s “Hero of Hope” award for 2022.