| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| cfhunter |
Posted - 02/16/2009 : 19:46:10
I found this on a site called "living the Truth" http://livingthetruth.com/stories-emotional-causing-physical-pain.php
Interesting
When we bury emotional pain we not only jeopardize our psychological well-being, we put our physical health at risk, too. Back in 1991, toward the ending of my training in psychiatry, I treated a 71-year-old woman named Naomi whose case dramatized this fact.
Naomi was referred to me because her feet burned relentlessly. The pain was so severe that there were days she couldn't walk and spent hours lying in bed, in tears. Her internist had performed a full physical exam and run all the laboratory studies she could think of, but couldn't find any reason for Naomi's pain. MRI, CT, and ultrasound examinations all came back normal. A neurologist had performed nerve conduction studies, and a vascular surgeon had performed an angiogram. Both showed no problem, whatsoever.
Naomi had trouble concentrating when she met with me the first few times because her pain was so severe. She closed her eyes again and again and buried her frail hands in her hair. I had the sense that it was very important that I sit through some of that pain with her, supporting her and comforting her to the extent that I could, so that she would understand that I knew her pain was real--even though her other doctors had given her the sense they doubted it.
It wasn't until our third session that Naomi said the first thing that invited me to begin exploring the real source of her suffering. Just moments after sitting down in my office she said, "You know, you look a little like my grandson." She smiled weakly. " More than just a little, to tell you the truth. I don't know how I could have missed it until now."
Although she didn't know it, Naomi had just given me an important insight into her condition. When someone wonders how they could have missed something about a person or a situation, assume that's because it was too big to see.
"Tell me about your grandson," I said.
She shrugged. "There's not a lot to tell. He's a wonderful boy. Very caring. Very smart. He writes to me every week."
"He lives out of state?" I asked, wondering if Naomi missed him.
"No, right here in Boston," she said. "He loves it here. He always tells me he'll be back to stay."
"Where is he?"
"Kuwait," she said.
1991 was, of course, the year of Operation Desert Storm. Naomi's grandson was one of the troops.
"What else does he say in his letters?" I asked Naomi. "Is he scared?"
"He isn't scared," she said. "He's proud to be serving his country. The main thing that bothers him is the weather."
"What does he say about that?" I asked.
"He says it's very, very hot there," she said. "He says that the sand is like fire. No matter what boots he wears, his feet . . ."
Naomi and I both looked slowly down at her feet. The room was silent, the moment full of wonder. When I spoke, it was just above a whisper. "His feet burn," I said.
She shook her head. "You don't think . . ."
I took a few moments to collect my thoughts. "I think," I said, "that you love your grandson very, very much. And I think we should talk more about him."
We did. We talked for hours about Naomi's grandson's special talents, including his skills as an athlete. We talked about how important he was to her, since he was her only grandchild, having lost a granddaughter shortly after childbirth. And, finally, we talked about her fear that he would never return from Kuwait, that he would die so far away from home.
If I ever doubt the power of love or the miracle of empathy, if I am ever tempted to believe that neuroscience holds every answer to human emotion and behavior, if I ever question whether an alchemy of the soul can change buried fear or anxiety or sadness into physical illness, I shall remember a grandmother I once met whose feet burned relentlessly for her grandson fighting in a distant desert.
Once Naomi faced her pain and discovered its source, her symptoms slowly disappeared (and, thankfully, her grandson came home alive and well from Kuwait).
|
| 6 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| iyusaf |
Posted - 02/23/2009 : 10:26:34
beautiful |
| RageSootheRatio |
Posted - 02/18/2009 : 08:51:54
Thanks for sharing this beautiful story. Kindness is such a powerful force for healing. |
| Peg |
Posted - 02/17/2009 : 19:37:05
Wow. Goose bumps and tears at the same time.
Thanks so much for sharing this amazing story.
Best,
Peg
In questions of science, the authority of a thousand is not worth the humble reasoning of a single individual. Galileo Galilei |
| justme |
Posted - 02/17/2009 : 19:10:01
Very powerful.
Thank you very much.
I do believe that two souls can be so intimately connected that they can share symptoms, even remotely.
I was even watching a recent episode of Private Practice wherein a pregant mom developed the exact same symptoms she didnt even know were killing her inborn fetus. The doctor called it "mirror syndrome".
Just ME |
| Dor |
Posted - 02/17/2009 : 04:13:55
This was beautiful and very touching. Thank you for sharing this.
Dor |
| marsha |
Posted - 02/16/2009 : 21:12:20
Thank you for this post.
Marsha |
|
|
