Lara’s Story

I first became “a patient” over 30 years ago at the age of 16. During a soccer game, I experienced a medical emergency out of the blue — a type of muscular syndrome in my legs so exceptionally rare I became only the second case in the medical literature at the time (elsewhere I have shared that story, along with photographs that require a warning). I required several emergency surgeries and a 6 week long hospitalization, and after nearly losing my right leg to the rare disorder, it then erupted in the left leg once I was out of a wheelchair and onto crutches. The doctors did not know what to make of me, and I became a “medically interesting case.”

In the years after the doctors declared the original problem “fixed,” the pain persisted and became unrelenting. Several of my doctors told me “the pain is all in your head” because it did not make sense to them why the pain was not only not resolved, but increasingly debilitating. I tried everything over the years (cortisone injections, PT, medications, rolfing, acupuncture, diets, devices, bed rest, you name it). At the start of each new treatment, I felt hopeful and optimistic, but by the end, I was dejected and despairing. Racing around seeking external sources of relief was like riding a rollercoaster of perilously raised and then devastatingly dashed hopes. As the pain got more pronounced and entrenched, I became more and more demoralized.

It wasn’t even just pain. The list of diagnoses I accrued since I was 16 made me feel as if I should get an honorary M.D. The original, structural diagnosis, Acute Exertional Compartment Syndrome, was only the first. Later on, it turned into Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (formerly Reflex Sympathetic Distrophy), Central Sensitization Syndrome, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Adrenal Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Mast Cell Activation Disorder, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Endometriosis, Diverticulosis, atypical Migraine, Anisocoria, Hyperhidrosis, Exercise-induced Uticaria, degenerative Osteoarthritis in my back, Labral tears in my hips, and so on.

It was the pain in my left leg that has been the most debilitating over the last several years, due to my motor nerve having become entrapped and strangled by scar tissue, a decidedly structural issue. Because my other surgeries had been successful in stopping the progression of the acute compartment syndromes, and surgeries 13, 14, and 15 had been successful in remedying the neuromas and nerve entrapments of other branches of the nerve, I still believed in surgical intervention. I had a “last hope” operation (surgery # 16) on Christmas Eve 2018. It not only failed, but it made my nerve pain far worse. I became desperate for relief. The pain had ravaged my body, ruptured my relationships, upended my career, decimated my confidence, and shook to the core my trust in my own perceptions of reality. I was bereft, demoralized, and quickly losing hope.

And then, in 2019, I stumbled upon Curable and a fortunate confluence of books, research, people that changed the course of my life. I immersed myself in the study of the powerful cutting-edge neuroscience research on chronic pain (“neural pathway,” “neural circuit,” or “neuroplastic” pain), and I learned how to reliably calm my own nervous system and reduce my own pain. In spite of chronic nerve pain and a pronounced contracture of my left knee, I was able to walk for miles and miles at a time, having learned tools to reduce the intensity of the pain. More importantly, “the work” I was doing changed me, to the core. I became “bodywise,” as I call it, and through “the work” — the “sage practice” — I became more empowered than I had ever been before. I reclaimed my life, only better.

It was as if my limbs had been pinned down by boulders for nearly three decades, and I had finally learned how to unburden myself. And simply by comparison to how I was before, it felt as if I could fly.

Ah, but wait for it!

My pain story does not end there, however. In the spring of 2021, the chronic nerve pain behind my left knee yet again became unrelenting and progressively debilitating. My knee contracture had gotten so much worse my left leg was no longer able to reach the ground. I resisted the idea that the increased pain was structural and worked my mindbody tools to the max. When these failed to touch the pain that I became housebound and unable to walk, I knew it was time to return to the world of medicine. This was not easy for me, as it had been a source of intense trauma, hurt, and invalidation for decades. Here is where I credit my empowerment work with enabling me to muster the courage to even get to the doctors, and, once there, having the strong voice I needed to advocate for myself.

It turns out my left peroneal nerve had become “completely matted down by a tremendous amount of scar that adhered the nerve to a nearby tendon,” (quoting the surgical report). Yep. I had to have surgery # 17. This was a terrifying prospect, as the risk was losing function of my lower leg while also making the pain worse not better. I am allergic to opiate pain medications, and so it would be an especially painful and difficult recovery.

In September 2022, my new surgeon liberated the nerve, and it was clear from the findings that I would not have been able to walk without crutches again had I not had the surgery. “No wonder you could not even move your leg without severe nerve pain,” said the surgeon. My nerve had been tethered by scar tissue adhesions to my lateral knee tendon, and was strangled in a way that would have caused progressive damage to its motor function. After a truly brutal rehabilitation period (“hitting a nerve” is a saying implying extreme pain for a reason), my body learned to walk again and I learned with urgent gratitude the critical importance of “the work,” even when there is “structural” causes of pain.

Now I am delighted to finally back to going for my long nature walks. My own personal practice helps me reduce the intensity of residual nerve pain that continues to rear its ugly head now and then through the long rehabilitation process. Nerves with years of compression like that take years to recover. It’s okay though. The surgeon liberated the nerve, but it has been my own sage practice that has liberated me from the yoke of pain. It no longer rules my life or monopolizes my attention. I am building my life back again, only it is even better than it was before.

The Sage Practice curates the very best, most appropriate tools, skills, & strategies that will be most helpful for your particular situation so that you can create your own healing empowerment. There is no one size fits all. Each practice is tailored to the individual. I pull strategies from a variety of sources: the newest pain science, cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), internal family systems therapy (IFS), mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), expressive writing, narrative medicine, and even critical feminist sociology.  The practices themselves are remarkably simple, but you guessed it, they just require practice (and patience). Lots of practice (and lots of patience).

My mission is to share this healing empowerment with people who are suffering. The Sage Practice aims to empower you to become an expert practitioner in calming your own pain & other chronic symptoms and reclaiming, rebuilding, and recreating your own life. Like a mother bird helping her baby birds leave the nest, I am not doing my job unless I am always working myself out of my job. My goal for you is for you to become independent so that you do not need someone like me for very long. Even if your pain or other chronic symptoms are a complicated combination of “structural” and “neuroplastic,” there is always a mindbody overlay. That is where we have leverage to make significant changes.

I will teach you powerful tools, help you develop a practice specifically tailored for you, support you as you gain confidence, and stand back as you find your own liberation. Get your own life back, only better. Find back to your own self again, only more empowered.

"True self, when violated, will always resist us, sometimes at great cost, holding our lives in check until we honor its truth."

- Parker Palmer