By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I ended my last column with my favorite saying: “You don't know what you don't know. And if you don't know what you don't know, you don't know what to ask. Our doctors need to ask.”

A couple of days later, I thought about the column and my second appointment with a neuro ophthalmologist, a specialist in nerve disorders that affect the eye.

I didn’t know that my parents were still carrying insurance on me, so I was going to a low-fee clinic in New York City, where I lived at the time.  It took almost a year, but finally one of the residents there decided I had trigeminal neuralgia. Even with a name for my condition, they still didn't have a clue what to do for it. Or with me.

When I realized that I could afford to see a private doctor, I returned to one I had seen years ago.  He referred me to the specialist.

The first appointment did not go well. He told me the disabling, horrendous facial and eye pain I had were caused by anxiety. At the end of the appointment, he patted me on the head, handed me a prescription for an anti-anxiety drug, and sent me home.

I was mad. Another "I dunno" exam that ends with a doctor saying, "It's psychosomatic." I debated if I even wanted to keep the second appointment, but what else could I do?  A feeling I think many of us have.

At the next appointment, I repeated my story of how the pain started, what it felt like, and what it was doing to me.  Again, he was unimpressed. He turned away from me, saying nothing.

Then, just to fill the silence, I said "You know, the other day, for a few seconds, I thought the pain was done and gone."

He abruptly turned back towards me. “What made you think that?” he said, the vehemence in his voice surprising me.

“Well, a lady on the bus inadvertently touched the left side of my face, where the pain is,” I explained. “And the pain didn't start. I was so, so happy. Until about 20 seconds later, when the lightning bolts came.”

The doctor walked over to me, and without missing a beat said, “I think it's time we brought you into the hospital.” I was startled and dumbfounded. In the span of a minute, he went from nonchalant to alarmed. I didn't think to ask why.

I was in the hospital for 52 days. After many tests and workups, they decided I should have brain surgery. The surgeon would cut away the numerous tiny little blood vessels that were wrapped around the part of my trigeminal nerve that gives sensation. The surgery only worked for three months, but it was a glorious three months.

Sometimes, it's the minor things: a change in the way pain feels, a new area of pain, or a change in how and when it happens. We may think, why bother the doctor with this? He won't care anyway. It's unimportant. If I tell him, he may think I'm a dolt or making things up. I’ll keep it to myself.

Which brings me to my second favorite saying: “You don't know what you don't know. And if you don't know what you don't know, how will you know if it matters?” 

Sometimes our deciding what a doctor doesn't need to know may be the one thing he needs to know the most. It may really matter. So let the words flow.

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.