Hey folks—things change. The lowest of the lows cannot last forever. When you’re at the bottom, there’s only one direction in which you can move . . . and it’s not down. Never in million years did I think I would be sitting on this balcony in Paris, enjoying a glass of wine provided by a charming Airbnb host, along with a French baguette, while taking in a spectacular view of the Sacré-Cœur, a church situated on top of a hill in Montmartre.

Why did I not think this was a possibility for me? Because, not too long ago, I was suffering from a severe physical injury that was causing me to have major psychological issues. I was also suffering from severe anxiety that was causing me to have major physical issues. It was a vicious circle; I was a mess. Furthermore, and separate from all this, I was suffering from periodic, ten-day, completely debilitating migraines, as I had been for my entire adult life. And, as if all this weren’t enough, my marriage was falling apart. So Paris didn’t really seem in the cards. Nor did writing anything ever again, least of all a blog post about a trip to Paris.

I want you to know that there are very often unseen solutions. I want you to know that when things seem hopeless, you can still reach up and grab hope. But I also want you to know that forward progress requires hard work, and even that is not enough, for forward progress also requires persistence. While enduring my worst days, weeks, and months, many people gave me advice that was counterproductive. Most, though sadly not all, of these people had good intentions; but they were wrong. It took me a long time to understand that I am the best judge of whether a particular treatment or strategy is working for me. It also took me a long time to understand that sometimes—but only sometimes—a piece of advice you’re getting is spot on, though you might not yet be prepared to admit it.

I just made it home from Paris. I’ll write more about my experiences in France soon. But now that I’m home, I’ve received some emails from friends and had some conversations with family that reminded me just how far I have come in the past few years. Truly, truly, I thought that life as I knew it was over for me. But it was not. After much trial and error—years of trial and error—I found some treatments and solutions that worked for me. And I made a complete recovery.

A Cool Paris Concert Venue and Other Migraine Triggers

So as to give you some specifics and eschew too much generality, below in this post are some of the solutions I found in regard to one of the many problems I experienced in recent years: my migraines. I know for a fact that I would have gotten a ten-day migraine in Europe, had I not stumbled across a miraculous solution last year. There were simply too many moments while traveling when I was on a jolting plane, train, or bus, having not gotten a lot of sleep the night before, as the sun was angling through the windows: these are huge migraine triggers for me.

There was also a notable evening in Paris when I was in a crowd of people in a confined space, as noise was thumping and lights were flashing: more huge triggers. I snapped this photo at an Aldous Harding concert, at a venue called La Maroquinerie, during the opening act . . . before the crowd got even denser, and the sounds and lighting got even more intense. (It was a great and interesting performance. Harding is a New Zealand singer/songwriter with a grandly unique stage presence. This was my first encounter with her music, and I intend to listen to more soon!)

So many triggers; but they had no effect.

How to Prevent Migraines, or at Least What Worked for Me

I take a magnesium supplement, and this has, astonishingly, worked for me, whereas fancier drugs did not. I have not had a ten-day migraine attack since beginning my daily regimen. The magnesium must be in a form that is easily absorbable by the body; many pills sold in drugstores have no effect, because they pass straight through the body without being absorbed.

If you decide to try this treatment, be careful to ramp up your dosage slowly, over a week or two. Otherwise you will likely experience diarrhea. Stop increasing the dosage when you get to the ideal dosage for you, which is when your stools are neither too hard nor too loose. (Sorry if that was TMI.) Also note that magnesium is a natural relaxant, so it’s best to take it at night, just before bed.

This is the migraine-preventing product that works for me. I am not affiliated with this company.

The above is all I have to share about the specific techniques I use to prevent migraines. For anecdotal information about my migraine-related experiences, see these previous blog posts:

• Read the full story of the solving of my migraine problem.
• Read about the aftermath of this miraculous solution.

How to Solve Whatever Health Issue You May Be Experiencing

Everyone’s body is different, but the above is what worked for me in preventing migraines. Your body is likely different than mine. You may be experiencing migraines that don’t respond to magnesium supplementation, or you may be experiencing a different physical or psychological problem. The thing you must do when experiencing a persistent health issue is to try lots of different techniques and treatments, while being careful not to do anything too risky, at least not without first exhausting all other possibilities.

It is very important to be persistent and communicative with your doctor. Explain your problem and ask your doctor to give you an idea. If it seems reasonable, try it. If it doesn’t work, be persistent in asking your doctor for another idea. Your doctor will not magically know that the first treatment idea isn’t working unless you communicate that fact.

If your first doctor doesn’t seem to be helping you, no matter how nice the doctor is, and no matter how inconvenient it is for you, you must try going to different doctors. It is likely that another doctor will have ideas that your original doctor didn’t have.

You can also look for ideas by talking to people, searching the Internet, and reading books and magazines, as long as you are careful to distinguish between who is providing factual information . . . and who is just trying to sell you something. Take every idea, no matter its source, with a grain of salt. Don’t believe everything you hear and read; but also be open to new ideas.

Never in a Million Years? It May Be Sooner Than You Think

Folks, I made it through all that trauma and somehow got to Paris. You can make it through hard times, too. Don’t give up. While not every problem is solvable, I promise, more solutions exist than you might now realize. Who knew that a painting of sunflowers could ever be so perfectly painted, until Van Gogh painted it?

Are you actively, persistently, searching for possible solutions to your health problem?

The memoir A Mind Unraveled, by Kurt Eichenwald, is astonishing in so many ways.

Anyone can run up against health problems and other major life difficulties, but Eichenwald’s story is uniquely interesting and instructive because of his attitude toward his struggles, as well as his phenomenal ability to analyze situations and make wise and brave decisions in even the worst of them.

His struggles were great. For years, doctors were unable to help him control his epileptic seizures. He could have one anywhere. When he had a seizure, people would often react with fear, ignorance about how to help, or hostility. Some of his college peers did not want to be his friend. Some of his college administrators did not want him to stay enrolled at the university. Some of his employers did not want him to remain working for them. One of his doctors told him that he should avoid stress by giving up on his education and career goals.

Fortunately, Eichenwald had an epiphany one day, while lying in a hospital bed:

“If I faced people who feared me or denied me work, I could control whether I gave up or tried to change their minds. I couldn’t force someone to hire me, but I could work hard, assembling a strong enough résumé to prove that I was a candidate worth considering. I couldn’t make someone love me, but I could be a person worthy of love. . . . I possessed more control than I had believed. Healthy people didn’t always understand the scope of how much could be overcome. I certainly never had before I got sick. As for what I didn’t control—the seizures, how others reacted to me—to hell with it. I could control how I reacted to the uncontrollable.”

Within this section, Eichenwald compares life to someone in an elevator. He notes that you can control whether you push a button, but you can’t control when, or whether, you will arrive. I like this metaphor a lot. I would like to offer another one, though, because life is so much more continuous and complicated than an elevator with its choice of maybe a dozen (or several dozen) buttons.

Life is being the dude or dudette sitting behind the audio mixer (a.k.a. mixing console) at a wild and large musical event. Your job is to control what the audio sounds like when it’s projected from the speakers.

There’s a lot you can control. The vast number of different buttons and levers before you would definitely baffle someone with less experience and intelligence than you. In fact, they baffle and overwhelm you at times. But if you concentrate on your task, you can create a good mix of musical sound.

There’s a lot you can’t control, though. If one of the musicians is playing off key, you can fiddle with the controls for that input, but you can’t change the fact that the musician is playing off key. If someone at that wild, live event knocks over a speaker and breaks it, you can’t control when or whether it will be replaced or fixed; you’ll simply have to proceed in broadcasting from just the working speakers.

I have read and experienced many times the truth, which Eichenwald also states, about the value of enduring hard times. When things are running smoothly, it’s tempting to sit back and enjoy the show, even if it’s not that great. But when things are going haywire? What, half of the musicians are drunk, and half of the speakers are malfunctioning? Then you’re faced with a choice. You can give up; or you can make some serious efforts to refine those controls to try to achieve the best outcome you can.

And, do you know what? Often times, the dude or dudette who’s putting the most, and most prolonged, effort into fiddling with the controls is the one who achieves the most awesome sound, regardless of the number and intensity of obstacles.

Is your life going smoothly? Or is something slightly off key? Or is everything totally haywire? No matter how easy or difficult your life is, you have the power to control many (though certainly not all) things. Are you fiddling with the buttons and levers of your audio mixer to try to maximize the quality of your sound?

What do we pay doctors to do?

Use medical instruments to collect data? Record that data in our charts? Perform procedures? Prescribe medications? Give referrals to other medical specialists? Recommend home care remedies and strategies?

Have I forgotten anything?

The author of a new memoir would say YES!

Kurt Eichenwald has written an astounding memoir, published last year, about his lifelong struggles with epilepsy . . . and people. He tells a story that made me cringe and kept me riveted. I was especially intrigued because his story has so many similarities to my own.

I do not suffer from epilepsy. I have not suffered from drug side effects to the extent that Eichenwald has. But I have suffered from debilitating medical issues. I have also suffered from drug side effects. And I have suffered, like Eichenwald, from the missteps, overconfidence, and occasional outright hostility of other people, while I was trying to attain the medical care I needed.

Perhaps one day I will write my story. But I’m not sure I have much to express that Eichenwald hasn’t already brilliantly covered in A Mind Unraveled.

Experiencing a health problem is scary. Full of fears and anxieties, we turn to doctors for their expertise; and we believe what they tell us. We want to believe; we feel that we have no choice but to believe. But Eichenwald tells a horrific story of doctor after doctor failing him. He was misdiagnosed, multiple times. He was treated with condescension and disrespect, multiple times. He was prescribed medications that almost killed him, multiple times. He was wrongly informed that his seizures were not epilepsy, but a psychological disorder, multiple times.

Finally, after years of worsening epileptic seizures, and years of taking seriously high doses of medication without proper physician monitoring; after years of not knowing where he would wake up next, or with what debilitating injuries; after years of enduring discrimination for having a disability, and personal trauma and that almost resulted in him giving up on life entirely—he finally stumbled upon a doctor who was willing and able to help him. Here’s what happened during Eichenwald’s first consultation with Dr. Naarden:

“After twenty minutes, Naarden had already spent more time speaking with me than any other neurologist ever had.”

What?! No other neurologist had spent more than a total of twenty minutes talking with their patient about a serious, debilitating medical problem?

During that first visit, Dr. Naarden went on to speak with Eichenwald for much longer than twenty minutes. And he continued talking with his patient. He talked with him not just during the initial consultation, but during future visits. And this communication went both ways. The doctor listened very carefully to Eichenwald’s story and asked follow-up questions. He also told Eichenwald, in detail, what he knew about Eichenwald’s current medical situation, what he didn’t know about it, and what he would like to do in an attempt to learn more.

This communication was essential to a correct diagnosis of Eichenwald’s disorder. It was also essential to the series of careful, logical steps the doctor had to take to get Eichenwald’s epilepsy under better control, as well as to prevent high levels of drugs from further damaging the patient’s health. Finally, it was essential in instilling a sense of trust in Eichenwald, who by then had understandably given up on trusting any doctor, and was hesitant to do anything one advised him to do.

When a doctor talks with a patient about a medical issue, this is not wasted time. This is an integral part of the data-gathering process. Anecdotal information from the patient is equally as valuable as measurements obtained from diagnostic tests. When a doctor does not gather information from a patient, key pieces of the puzzle go missing. The doctor is then forced to jump to conclusions.

I was shocked that no other doctor had spent time talking with Eichenwald . . . but I was not surprised. The same thing happened to me. After encountering a series of doctors who misdiagnosed me and gave me wrong treatments and advice, which significantly worsened my problems, I finally stumbled upon one who was willing and able to help me.

How long had each of the unsuccessful doctors spent speaking with me about my health issues, total?

Yep, less than twenty minutes.

How long did the successful doctor spend speaking with me—during my initial consultation alone!—about my health issues?

Yep, more than twenty minutes.

So, what do we pay doctors to do?

One of the great things about the book The Body Keeps the Score, by Bessel van der Kolk, M.D., is that it is written for laypeople and practitioners alike. No matter whether you’re the one lying on the couch, so to speak, or the one with the credentials, the book contains massive amounts of research-based insights.

One point that Dr. van der Kolk makes over and over is that not every strategy works for every patient. The key, whether you are the person in search of healing or the therapist, is to find the strategies that work, and move forward with those. That sounds like wisdom to me! That being said, the doctor explains that an overriding principle applies when people seek to recover from trauma:

“Trauma robs you of the feeling that you are in charge of yourself, of what I will call self-leadership in the chapters to come. The challenge of recovery is to reestablish ownership of your body and your mind—of your self.”

This passage occurs on the first page of the last section of the book, “Paths to Recovery,” which takes up nearly half its pages. In this section, Dr. van der Kolk offers information on a variety of ways that people can move toward self-leadership. These strategies are as diverse as the people they help. Some require a group of people, some require one-on-one sessions, and some require the seeker of relief to be alone. Some require help from a trained professional (in psychology, yoga, theater, choir, or another area), and some require merely a willingness on the part of the seeker of relief to try something new.

Dr. van der Kolk further refines what it means to develop self-leadership. Here is his explanation of what self-leadership entails, no matter which strategies one uses:

“For most people this involves (1) finding a way to become calm and focused, (2) learning to maintain that calm in response to images, thoughts, sounds, or physical sensations that remind you of the past, (3) finding a way to be fully alive in the present and engaged with the people around you, (4) not having to keep secrets from yourself, including secrets about the ways that you have managed to survive.”

All four of these involve taking control over one’s life. Learning to be and remain calm is the same thing as learning to control one’s response to emotions. Learning to stay in the present (and not the past) is the same thing as learning to control one’s experiences. Engaging with other people is the same thing as taking control over one’s ability to receive something essential to all people: human companionship and love. And being honest with oneself is an essential first step in taking control over one’s life—as opposed to letting one’s fears control it.

In writing this post, I suddenly remembered a short story I read in college, “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. At the time, I did not understand why my professor thought the story was so great. I reread it just now, and wow—do I understand now. (Oh, the things I wish I had picked up on at a younger age!)

“The Yellow Wallpaper” is about a woman experiencing “nervous depression.” Her husband and her brother, both physicians, insist that the cure is for her to do as little as possible. She must not do anything she loves, such as writing or visiting with loved ones! No, she must stay isolated at home, mainly in bed, until she recovers. The poor narrator trusts these authoritative men more than she trusts her own intuition. Things do not, needless to say, end well.

If you are hoping to recover from trauma, the last thing you need is for someone to further restrict your agency. And note that Dr. van der Kolk mentions both writing and loving human contact as strategies for developing self-leadership. But also note: the answer is not to stop listening to the advice of loved ones and professionals. Rather, it is to listen to them with a grain of salt. If your gut tells you a recommendation is a bad idea . . . it probably is. Even if the person giving you the recommendation is a doctor, your husband, or both.

Who’s in charge of your life?

I was stumped by yet another medical mystery.

A prescription drug that helps me immensely also makes me tired. I have trouble waking up. I feel fairly alert in the morning, but I ache to nap all afternoon. And forget the evening—I’m ready for bed immediately after dinner.

My doctor has been helping me experiment with different remedies for this problem. Now, granted, I can still function. The problem isn’t severe. In the past, I have been on medications that made me significantly groggier. Still, if I can maneuver myself into a life situation in which I feel more alert more often, I will happily take it.

The trouble, however, is that doctors and scientists, even in this advanced age of medicine and technology, don’t really know how the brain works. And they don’t really know what happens when different chemicals are introduced to it. We know a whole heck of a lot! Sadly, though, that whole heck of a lot amounts to a patchy understanding of what’s going on up there. The brain is just too complex and intricate and multivariate and changeful.

As Gary Greenberg writes in his article “Psychiatry’s Incurable Hubris,” in the most recent issue of the Atlantic, “Psychiatrists . . . cannot precisely predict for whom and under what conditions their treatments will work.”

Sigh. That explains why my doctor is forced to help me experiment. Since different people react differently to any given drug, it’s not possible to know beforehand what will work for each patient.

Thus my doctor, thinking we might make a change and see how I felt, prescribed me a new medication.

I felt different right away. Within a few hours, I felt like I was floating on a cloud. A very nice cloud. The niceness of the cloud intensified over the next few days. It became softer and fluffier and cozier . . . and I felt like sleeping. All day long. Zzzz. . . .

In the meantime, I made a profound discovery about this medication. Listen up, literary friends, because this is crucial! This is key! This is vital! My new medication . . . gave me writer’s block!!!!

I could no longer write blog posts! With sufficient amounts of caffeine and junk food, I was able to edit and proofread, but write a paragraph? Nope! (Needless to say, since you are reading this post, I went off that drug pronto.)

Why is this significant? Well, listen to this fine theory of mine. If this drug energizes some people—not me, obviously!—then might it not also cure any writer’s block those people might be experiencing?*

I humbly invite the reps of said drug company to call me ASAP, so we can discuss my payment for this lucrative marketing idea.

*In case it isn't sufficiently clear, this is a joke. Do not try this at home, or at work, or on a sailboat, or at an amusement park, or in an airplane, or anyplace else you might find yourself. Please also refer to the footnote in my original Medical Mysteries post.