Chapter one

1. Introduction: my history with chronic pain

 

At 44, I diligently followed my yoga routine. Stretching is important, they said, especially for your back and pelvic area. Naturally, I complied. I regularly worked out, walked, and biked whenever possible. Cardio is essential, I often heard, it improves blood circulation and has pain-relieving effects. It made sense, so I followed all the advice.

I visited a psychologist because pain is often linked to stress and I needed tools to cope with the pain and the effect on my daily life. I tried everything: acupuncture, osteopathy, physical therapy, dietary advice, ginger wraps, turmeric pills, supplements, I visited an orthomolecular therapist, you name it, I did it!

The warmth of an infrared sauna offered some relief so we installed one on the upper floor, but even that wasn’t a lasting solution.

As a chronic pain patient, you recognize the pattern: the endless stream of tips, advice, and treatments. You try it all because you want to believe that a solution is out there somewhere. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a big proponent of exercise, healthy eating, and maintaining a strong body. But despite all these efforts, I hit rock bottom two years ago: walking for ten minutes a day was the most I could manage.

That ten-minute walk needed careful planning, like during a trip to the supermarket for example. The nagging, sometimes stabbing pain in my pelvic area drained me completely. Lying down on the couch offered brief relief and I often fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

I took 400 mg of anti-inflammatories daily, often twice a day. It helped a bit, but the pain persisted. Sometimes I would take an opioid but I tried to avoid that.

Living with chronic pain had been my reality for 20 years. But this specific pain in my left hip was new—a different type of pain in a different place. I was so sure I needed a hip replacement.  My dad had a hip replacement at the same age, it must be hereditary. A scan revealed inflammation so no surgery for me. This wasn’t the first time that I experienced a new pain in a new location. Each time, it was a struggle not to lose hope again.

For years, I had immersed myself in everything related to chronic pain: rheumatic complaints, muscle pain, joint pain. I felt like I had read, heard, and tried it all.  Yet, here I was, facing a new problem.

Despite present day standards of living being higher than in previous centuries - our access to healthy food and the elimination of physically demanding tasks - more people are being diagnosed with chronic pain or auto-immune disease and see specialists like immunologists or rheumatologists. I became a member of that club but it didn’t help me with my pain. 

Nutrition impacts pain. Alcohol can acidify the joints, sugar accelerates your body’s aging process. I discussed my diet with the rheumatologist and decided to eat what felt right for my body. It did help but the pain remained. I tried intermittent fasting with amazing results, such as reduced pain and lower cholesterol, but once again, the pain relief was only short-lived.

Stress plays a significant role in having pain. Prolonged exposure to high adrenaline levels acidifies the joints. But how do you avoid stress? For me, everything felt stressful—I was in pain, after all. I was caught in a vicious cycle. I knew all of this and continued making lifestyle adjustments, yet the pain persisted.

Hadn’t I worked on myself enough? Had I overlooked something? The thought of only being able to walk for ten minutes a day for the rest of my life felt cruel and unfair.

I have a degree in social nursing, I’m married, and I have a family with three children. My life into adulthood went fairly smoothly, without too many worries. What I mean is that I haven’t lived in a war zone, I haven’t experienced malnutrition, I didn’t grow up with a chronic illness. I’m just an average person.

Between my second and third child, the back pain started. In fact, my third pregnancy was postponed for several years because of the pain. I went to physical therapy, but when I developed neuropathic pain (nerve pain) in my leg, I underwent surgery for a herniated disc. Yet, even after the procedure, I wasn’t pain-free. This was in 2006.

In the years that followed, I experienced all kinds of pain: back pain, pelvic pain, neck pain, shoulder pain, pain in the hip, leg…

Despite these persistent pains in the background, I tried to continue with my life, but the pain remained a defining factor. Working a salaried job with fixed hours and little flexibility seemed increasingly unsustainable in the long run.

In 2016, I started my own pedicure and massage practice. It gave me the flexibility to manage my pain. As a self-employed person, I could set my own schedule. On bad days, I rescheduled appointments for times when I felt better. I varied my treatments to avoid repetitive postures and consciously took breaks to ease my body. Initially, I limited myself to a maximum of three clients per day to allow for rest periods. All my decisions revolved around managing pain and fatigue and it worked for me. Admittedly, I could rely on my husband financially. What I earned as an entrepreneur was only supplementary and far from enough to support a family.

Yet despite all these adjustments—managing my pain, maintaining my body and mind—I still experienced pain. Then, on top of this,  new (hip) pain appeared that limited my mobility.

In February 2023, a client told me she was going to a massage therapist who worked with a specific method. Interesting, I thought, so I looked her up. That kicked off a deep dive into information about pain and the brain.

A week later, I was pain-free.  I’m eager to share what I learned.  Surely, there must be other people like me who have gone through the same struggles? Who need that final puzzle piece? Who feel responsible for the functioning of their body and mind and think, Come on, I’ve had enough—what else can I do?

 

Here goes…