My adventures with chronic pain began when I was injured in an auto accident. As time passed, my treatment from the traditional medical community settled into one dull, grinding message: learn to live with it.

That was a message I simple could not accept.

I believed then, as I believe now, that life is infinitely flexible and plastic. That any of us can change—mentally, physically, spiritually—in an instant. That miracles can and do happen. And I therefore believed that I could do something more than just “learn to live with it.”

I threw myself into reading and trying and doing almost anything I read that promised relief from chronic pain. I learned that there are resources available to us that go far beyond prescription medications and surgery. And I learned that the most important of those resources are inside of us.

Recently I had a conversation with a man who’s traveled the globe studying energy healing. I asked him what, in all his years of study, was the most important thing he had learned. He said, “I’ve learned that the most important thing, and also the hardest thing, is just to get out of our own way and allow our body to heal itself.”

“Allowing, “he said, “not willing, not commanding, not magnetically attracting, but simply allowing is the key to unlocking miracles.”

His words made me remember a story I’d heard from Tanna Boran about her recovery from rheumatoid arthritis. I asked her to write about it for you. Her personal miracle happened when she was 15. It’s my opinion that because she was so young, her mind was not set into fixed patterns of belief, and so she allowed a miracle to happen. Here it is in her own words:

Curious Repercussions of Spontaneous Healing

by Tanna Boran

At the tender age of 15, while watching the Grammy Awards on television one February night, my hands felt stiff. Looking down at them, I saw that my knuckles were swollen and smooth looking, like those of my grandmother who had rheumatoid arthritis (RA).

Over the next three months, this stiffness rapidly progressed to full blown physical agony. I had fevers and always felt sick. I couldn’t curl my fingers around my books to carry them between high school classes. I was so stiff after a night’s sleep that I required my mother’s help getting out of bed and starting the hot shower that would provide too little relief.

I told my parents, family doctor, and others involved that I had was arthritis. I didn’t know at that time there were two kinds, but I’d heard my grandmother bemoan her arthritis pain over the years. It seemed pretty obvious to me.

It was not so obvious to my family doctor, however, and he admitted me to the hospital for tests. This turned into a surreal weeklong stay, ending with a doctor I’d never met bestowing the RA diagnosis on me as if I'd inherited a sizeable estate. (I suppose for him it was a successful completion to his work.) He essentially told me RA is forever and get used to it.

I was a bit pissed off, to put it mildly. It took only days after the diagnosis for some people to start treating me like an invalid. As if having a serious disease wasn’t bad enough, people acted like I was contagious as well. Another significant person in my life all but accused me of faking the whole thing. I caught on quickly that even if compassion was warranted, I wasn’t necessarily going to get it.

Rage at this treatment and the unfairness of it all welled up in me until one day it broke loose; an impassioned exchange with my Maker ensued. Well, more like a loud dressing down. I informed Him I was too f****** young for this s***. I had a few more choice words for Him, but you get the gist of it. Floors were beaten with fists. Household items were thrown.

After that, I suffered through a truly grueling week of nausea and vomiting. Any movement whatsoever stirred up vertigo-like nausea through my whole body. I spent hours at a time draped over an open toilet. I vomited constantly, even though nothing but bile came up.

And then the RA was gone.

I didn’t think too much about what had happened. Raised in the Catholic tradition, the concept of miracles was nothing new to me, but I didn’t think of my emancipation from RA as a miracle. After all, I’d spent most of my life without RA, so returning to that RA-free life was something I didn’t question. It seemed like a natural course of events. Over the following months and years, though, I was informed otherwise.

For some strange reason, some people were not thrilled that I might not be crippled with pain for the rest of my life. The most common reactions were an incredulous, “But there’s no cure for rheumatoid arthritis!” and a resolute, “Well, you must have been misdiagnosed.”

No offense, but I spent a week in the hospital and surrendered half of my blood supply to establish that diagnosis. Dozens of medical professionals took part in it. If it’s easier to think that a half-dozen doctors and dozens of support staff all conclusively erred rather than a spontaneous healing could occur, you’ve probably seen far too few miracles in your life.

I used to tell my new doctors about the now-gone RA when they took my medical history. I’ve since stopped because none of them were interested or even found it worthy of being noted in my chart.  It’s as if they conclude I must have been misdiagnosed, because if I had it then, I’d have it now. So I stopped mentioning it. No one’s worse for not knowing.

I believe that my natural indignation — which has served me well in my ensuing years — at having at age 15 what I thought of as an old lady’s disease led to a spontaneous healing.  But I also found out some interesting things down the line.

For weeks after the vomiting, all I ate were ice pops and pumpkin seeds.  Years later I read the book, “Eat Right 4 Your Type,” by Peter J. D’Adamo, a book that asserted that certain foods have a medicinal effect for people of particular blood types. And, you guessed it; pumpkin seeds have a medicinal/healing effect for those with my O blood type.

I’d like to think that my intuition led me to the food that would be my medicine. Supposedly O blood types are the ones who get RA and other autoimmune diseases as well.

I never discovered what the ice pops were about, but I still like them today. And I know that spontaneous healing is possible, because I experienced it. Even if others don’t believe.

_________

Tanna Boran is a life coach, writer and metaphysician, as well as an accidental advocate for caregivers. You can read her blog at http://www.AudaciousAbundance.com and learn about her practice at http://www.DivineRelationshipCoaching.com.  You can also follow her on Twitter at  http://www.twitter.com/CoachTanna

### Bonnie Boots publishes Pain Health News to provide information and motivation to people living with chronic pain.  You can stay in touch with her by typing your email address into the subscribe box in the upper right corner of this page.