Lihi Lisser
Hi, I’m M, recovering from small fiber neuropathy, rheumatoid arthritis, and endometriosis. Before the pain I’d like to tell you about began, I went through a very intense year. It included a miscarriage, a war going on in the background, a stressful workload, and attempts to get pregnant for months after an endometriosis diagnosis. In a last-minute decision, my husband and I decided to take a break from it all, and if my next period came — we’d fly to Thailand. My period did come, and I booked a trip to Thailand for my husband and me on two days’ notice. My husband was between jobs and kind of searching for himself at the time, and I requested leave from my work after a hectic period.
On the plane to Thailand, I started feeling tingling in my legs and I started wondering what was causing it, but I didn’t assign much importance to it. After all, I was on my way to an exotic vacation in our favorite place. When we landed, the tingling didn’t go away; I started to feel dizzy and lightheaded. I went to the hospital in Ko Samui twice over the next week because these symptoms only got worse. I underwent a series of tests and received various medications that didn’t help. Meanwhile, my thoughts started going wild. I started reading about the symptoms and diagnosing myself with too many diagnoses, which of course didn’t help the feeling of pain that just got worse and made it so I couldn’t sleep because of the pain and burning sensation in my legs, and I couldn’t get out of bed because I couldn’t really walk, or eat, because I was nauseated and dizzy. After a week of this, we decided to buy a ticket home. At the airport in Ko Samui, two hours before the flight home, I completely fell apart. I couldn’t feel my body because of all the tingling and I almost lost consciousness. I was taken by ambulance back to the hospital in Ko Samui, this time for a week-long hospitalization. In the hospital, a number of doctors checked me, a neurologist, gynecologist, and internist. None were able to diagnose exactly what was happening to me. There was also an incident of fever and what seemed to be an infection in my uterus. I was medically flown back to Israel and transported directly to Sheba Hospital — where they were still unable to diagnose me, and they gave me antibiotics again.I remember those as days of hell — days of being a complete basket case, wheelchair-bound because I couldn’t walk, unable to lift my head because of the nausea, dizziness, and pain. It goes without saying that my emotional state was also at an all-time low. No one knew what was going on with me, my symptoms were just getting worse and spreading, and each doctor was giving me a different pill with the hope that it would help. No one could see me.
My symptoms became my life — and simply wandered from place to place in my body. My legs burned, and suddenly my neck and back seized up for a few weeks. The joints in my hands hurt and I needed a brace, and suddenly a sharp, constant pain appeared in my head above the back of my neck. I was given Lyrica and my dosage was constantly increased — and the drug caused no few side effects, such as more nausea and dizziness and lightheadedness.
Then I came across a book called Healing Back Pain by Dr. John Sarno. It felt like the book was written about me. In the four months of pain, I had really limited my social interactions and outings, but when they did happen, for example when I went to spend time with close friends or take a yoga or pilates class, I suddenly forgot the pain and it didn’t affect me. That exact phenomenon was mentioned in the book. I felt that when I believed that my symptoms are neuroplastic and there is nothing wrong with me, I physically feel better. But something within me insisted that I keep checking, and still believed that maybe it really was a physical problem, maybe something dangerous, maybe cancer, God forbid. So my body and soul swung back and forth between health and illness.
Gradually I began to dive deeper into the concept of neuroplastic pain and I read more books on the topic (Howard Schubiner, Alan Gordon) and listened to podcasts. That’s how I found Lihi Lisser and her website. I already knew all about the things she explained on the site, excellent student that I am. I really connected with the recovery stories and wanted to have one of my own. I got in touch with her, and she wrote back immediately and referred me to Dr. Efrat Suraki for an initial consultation.
When I saw Efrat in January 2025, I knew I was in the right hands. During the two visits I had with her, I laid out my entire history, including all the pain I ever experienced, my medical examinations and medical history. Efrat went over all of it and unequivocally diagnosed my pain as neuroplastic, saying that I was a “candidate for full recovery.” I decided to listen and just go with it and believe it. With my husband’s encouragement, I called Lihi again and asked, or more precisely insisted, on going to her even though she was completely booked.
Lihi taught me to relate to my experiences of pain differently, to observe them, to stay with them and not try to get rid of them. I even started calling them something else: “cherries.” I started practicing positive mantras every day, somatic tracking, and in this way, I slowly taught myself that I’m actually healthy, that my body is not facing any danger. Looking back, I understand that my pain was simply my body’s defense mechanism, and a misinterpretation of feelings or situations. Hard as it is to believe, I’m even kind of glad this happened to me. I feel that now I live my life with true connection to myself and my feelings and emotions. I see the world differently — suddenly I identify neuroplastic pain in everyone and try to explain the concept to them. I began therapy with Lihi in January 2025. In the middle of March 2025, I found out that I was pregnant. Today, 10 months since it began, I’m able to say that the chronic pain I described is gone. I’ve stopped all the medication that I was taking for it. I am so proud of myself.
