Disappearing Acts — Mysterious Vanishing Symptoms
Now you see it, now you don’t!
When something disappears right before your eyes, all you can do is stand there in awe of the mysterious contradiction you just witnessed. One minute the pain is agonizing—a 45 on a scale of 1 to 10—and the next minute, you feel nothing. You swear you didn’t imagine it.
It’s like magic, isn’t it?
For years I was the lovely assistant to the magician (doctor), willing to lay on a table and be sawed in half. All in the name of entertainment (finding a cure for my IBS, actually).
I had experienced so many bouts of diarrhea and indigestion by the time I was 25, and that was the norm for me. I would only go to the doctor when my flare-ups were abnormal, for example, if they lasted two weeks instead of one, or if I’d have to run to the bathroom six times a day instead of four.
When I had these bad flare-ups, I was sure something was really wrong with me THIS TIME, something the doctor would be able to find, treat or remove. I was oddly excited to be able to show the doctor how sick I was, and prove it wasn’t all in my head.
But here comes the plot twist. As soon as I made a doctor’s appointment, I would start to feel better almost immediately. So much so, by the time I got on the table and let him examine me, I was feeling healthy again. It was as if just making the appointment relieved the symptoms.
Poof! Gone! Magic.
“Well, Heather, I can’t find anything wrong with you,” he’d say.
“I swear I was so sick for days!” I would respond. And I was! I didn’t imagine it.
This game went on a handful of times a year. Abra cadabra, I would tell myself after each visit.
In retrospect, these experiences were an obvious sign that my condition was partially emotional. Not to be confused with “all in my head.” It was not all in my head by any means, but clearly if there were something biologically wrong with me, it wouldn’t be able to shut on and off like that. Just like a broken arm doesn't hurt sometimes, and the pain doesn’t move around to the leg and neck.
The emotional components were all there: unhappiness, stress, and despair. But there was something else—negative expectations.
You see, each time my stomach hurt, whether it was a week-long bout of diarrhea, or a mild case of indigestion, it added to my portfolio. Each experience built on the previous one. As such, feeling just a slight twinge of pain would exacerbate, lengthen or even create more pain and discomfort. With that slight twinge, memories kick in, muscle memory takes over, fear sets in, and the fire ignites: “Oh no, I feel a sensation in my stomach. Here I go again!” or, “Oh no, this feels similar to that other time. I must be getting it again!”
And so on.
When it comes to chronic pain and illness, pain and discomfort will come and go. The pain is caused by a complex combination of biology, psychology, and social factors. And because of this, the very mechanisms that can cause a flare-up can un-cause them too.
It’s great to look back now and see how much better I feel, compared to five years ago. It wasn’t an overnight Presto, chango!, but I now know not to be deceived by the trick of the mind. Sometimes an upset tummy is just an upset tummy, and if left alone, the body will initiate its own disappearing act.