Changing Charles’ Story
Emotions and The Body
Part 2
By: Patrick S. Cross LMT, CPN, CET
In part one we discussed how our emotional states create physical patterns in our bodies, for better or worse (see part one below). In part two we look at one of the most interesting cases I’ve seen in my career. One that solidified the interest and respect I have for a well-rounded approach to health care that includes how we feel about what we feel.
I met Charles (not his real name) at a cocktail party. In his mid 60s, Charles carried himself well, and was the kind of guy who brightened up the room with smiles and good conversation. Mid way into the evening I was listening to some of his stories about Denver through the decades when I noticed his right shoulder didn’t move very much. It looked stiff and every once in a while he would reach up and touch it with his left hand. It was subtle, but it’s my job to notice things like that.
“Having shoulder trouble?” I asked him during a pause in the conversation.
“Yes,” he responded, “It’s been bothering me for years.”
“Was there an injury?” I asked.
“A car accident.” He said. “Back in ’92.”
“It’s been going on for that long?” I asked. “Have you had any therapy to try to resolve it?”
“I’ve done everything.” He said, with a deep breath. “Chiropractic, acupuncture, PT, dry needling, massage, you name it. I always feel a little better for a few days, and then it comes right back. I even went the surgery rout at one point. None of it helped.”
“I’d be happy to take a look, if you want another opinion.” I gave him my card.
“Thanks,” he said, and took my card, but I didn’t expect him to call since he’d already seen so many people. What was another massage therapist going to be able to do?
A week later I got a call from Charles.
“Alright,” he said, “Let’s give it a shot.”
He came in for a session and I went through all the assessing and treating I thought might do the trick. When we finished the session his shoulder had better movement, the pain was gone, and I was happy with a job well done, but it didn’t last.
I called him three days later to follow up, and sure enough the pain and stiffness were back.
I saw him for a second session, and a third. Each time he would feel great getting off the table, and then the pain and stiffness would come back within a few days.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “This is how it always goes.”
But I did worry about it. I’ve always been a mildly obsessive person, and when I can’t figure out a problem I can barely think about anything else.
After the fourth session something interesting happened. When I followed up with him he said the pain had not come back, and a week later it was still gone.
“What did you do?” He asked, excited. “This is the longest it hasn’t hurt in years.”
I’d done some more work with his spine in the last session and I thought we might be on to something. Then he called me a few days later and said the pain was back.
“I just went to pick my car up out of the shop and by the time I got home my shoulder was terrible.” He reported.
I was silent for a moment, trying to wrap my head around possible explanations.
“Wait,” I said, “Your car has been in the shop? For how long?”
“Two weeks,” He said. “Bit of a hassle. I’ve been walking a lot more though. That’s been kind of nice.”
“So you haven’t driven a car in two weeks?” I asked.
“Correct.” He said.
“And today you drove for the first time and the pain came back?” I asked.
“Yep.” He sighed.
There was something there. I wasn’t sure what it was yet, but I was about to find out.
When Charles came in for his next session I asked him some questions I hadn’t asked before. Instead of focusing only on his physical shoulder I started asking him about the story of the accident.
“Why does that matter?” He said, when I asked him to recall the incident.
“Not sure yet.” I told him, “But let’s explore this a little bit. Tell me everything you can remember.”
“Alright.” He conceded. “It was late at night, maybe 11:30pm. I was on my way home from an event and out of nowhere this drunk asshole plowed into my car.”
As soon as he said those words the muscles in his shoulder tightened up. I worked them a little bit, and after a few minutes they calmed down.
“Tell me more.” I said.
“What’s more to tell?” He said. “It was just bad luck. Here’s this guy out there getting drunk and going out and ruining people’s lives. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I was the one that the son of a bitch got.”
His muscles clamped down more than ever, and he winced in pain as I moved his shoulder. I had to stop for a moment and think about what was going on. I’d been taking the Somato-Emotional Release training through the Upledger Institute, but I’d just started and wasn’t really sure what this all might mean yet.
“How do you know the other driver was drunk?” I asked.
“It was in the incident report.” Charles said.
“Did you ever meet him or see him in court?” I asked.
“Never even saw the guy.” He said. “All I know is that he was driving around drunk, ruining people’s lives. I can’t believe anyone could do that. I mean, how could you go around getting wasted and causing people so much pain?”
Charles’ muscle tightened back up. He was angry, and it was affecting his shoulder in a powerful way.
“How drunk was he?” I asked.
“Why does that matter?” Charles shot back.
“Just curious.” I said, calmly.
“Well,” He said. “I don’t really know. It didn’t say specifically what his blood alcohol levels were in the report, just that he was over the legal limit and received a DUI.”
“So how do you know he was wasted?” I asked.
Charles paused for a moment. “I guess I don’t.”
“And you never met him, even that night?” I asked.
“No.” He said. “The accident was pretty bad. I went straight form my car to the ambulance. Never saw anyone but the paramedics.”
“Just out of curiosity, have you ever been over the legal limit after a dinner with friends or an event, and gotten into your car to drive home?” I asked.
“Well,” He said, “Sure. Who hasn’t? I’ve never driven drunk before though.”
“Is it possible that this guy was just slightly over the limit?” I asked.
Charles paused for moment. Then something very interesting happened. His breathing deepened and his facial expression shifted. Charles’ voice softened, his brain was reworking itself, and he started to tell a different story.
“I guess so. Yes.” He started, slowly. “I guess that’s possible. Maybe the guy was having a really hard night. Maybe he’d just had a fight with his wife and went to the bar to have a drink and think things over. I’ve done that before.”
He paused for another moment.
“Maybe he’d had a drink or two and figured out what he needed to figure out, and was heading home to his wife. He would have been distracted driving home. Maybe they’d been fighting about money or their kids, so there could have been a lot on his mind. I guess it could have happened to anyone.”
In awe at what was happening I held my hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles start to loosen up as he spoke. Then the next thing Charles said completely blew me away.
“God, I hope the guy ended up ok.” Charles said. “A DUI can really screw things up for someone.”
Then Charles let out a deep breath, like he’d let go of something very heavy that he’d been carrying around for a long time. His muscles loosened completely, and his shoulder started moving smoothly again.
Charles was a different guy walking out of that session. He’d always been positive and cheerful since I met him, but now he seemed peaceful. When I followed up with him he said the shoulder pain was gone. He noted that he still felt the muscles start to tighten up when he would get into his car, but that was starting to go away as well.
I’ve thought a lot about that session over the years. The power of the stories that we tell ourselves, and the emotions attached to those stories can be intense. It is an aspect of health care that often goes unrealized and unresolved.
What really gets me though is that we can’t be sure if either of the stories Charles told himself were actually true. But does it really matter? The first story created anger, frustration, hatred, and a victim mentality, resulting it physical tension and pain. That is not a productive story. The second story produced feelings of empathy, understanding, and forgiveness, the result of which was release and a sense of peace.
The power of our emotions should not be underestimated, and we would all do well to examine the stories we tell ourselves, and the emotional patterns they provoke. If we can’t know the full truth in a certain situation, then can we dismantle the damaging stories we tell, and weave new stories that ultimately serve us better and provide for a more thriving life?
