Interview with Diane Jacobs - Part III

Part I is here.
Part II here.

Matthias:
"Gandevia and others have shown that by displacing skin - for example at the fingers - gives the patient the illusion that the finger has moved. The same thing happens when you vibrate tendons - depending on the context people think their limbs start moving. It seems from this line of research that our brain constructs a Virtual Reality Simulation of the body - a virtual body as it is often called. Do you think that the brain regards the virtual body being real and that problems in the real body (only) arise because of discrepancies between the virtual and the real body? What I mean by this is: the brain tries to adjust the real body so that it fits the virtual body?"

Diane:
That is a good testable treatment construct, I think. Butler has been thinking along these lines as well.

Matthias:
"What can patients do on their own to keep their virtual body flexible and healthy? What are some of the things you yourself do in everyday life to keep it fit?"

Diane:
Well, everyone knows that pain can arise when the real body gets impacted, jolted, injured as in a car accident, etc. Most people do not realize pain can arise through ordinary daily habits. I usually ask patients what their "default" positions are, the positions they adopt while being sedentary.

These positions often leave lasting impressions on the nervous system. For example, most people relax in the evening, sit with a leg crossed over the other. Many people always cross the same leg, have for years, never the other. Or they will pick a corner of the couch to watch TV from, and tuck their legs up to the side - always the same direction. Or lean on one elbow - always the same elbow.

I once treated a woman who had an enormous dint in the side of her leg from her other knee pressing in. You can learn to spot the sedentary habits from the impressions they leave on the actual body! But think what this must also do to their virtual bodies after awhile.

I make people aware of the need to observe themselves at home, become aware of their default positions, change them. I explain it simply - let them know that nerves need fed evenly from all sides or eventually they'll set up a distress call.

I don't teach "exercise" anymore, instead I teach sensory awareness, i.e., anything that will change sensory discriminative input into the neuromatrix. Change the relationship to gravity - lie down on the floor. Attend to breathing. Stay focused on the breathing and lengthen out an arm along the floor, see how it feels.

Do telescoping movements instead of stretching. Shorten and lengthen. Breathe. Feel what parts are trying to help and which ones feel as though they don't help, or resist. And don't worry about trying to make them do anything they can't seem to. Stop trying to override everything, just notice things, let them be, let them change by themselves, but keep checking on them periodically.

Do not cause more pain.
Practice moving without pain, practice what you can inside the comfort zone - there's lots to work on without trying to push the boundaries. Wait. Do small amounts frequently. Think of this work as feeding the nervous system.

Like a very young and cranky baby, it cannot absorb very much at a time. It needs your help and caregiving and attentiveness and feeding, but it needs small amounts frequently to turn itself around and thrive. A big "meal" once a day would be counterproductive, to say the least.

I use the example of learning to ride a bike - here's a complex motor skill that requires about three days to learn. All that's required is repeated exposure to the task, practice. Nothing is going to happen until that exposure has made its way all through every part it needs to go.
Patience and repeated exposure is all that is required.

Suddenly, on about day three or four, the task is accomplished - suddenly, the brain has figured out how to help your body achieve balance and coordination sufficient to ride a bike, and it's without effort. It's the same for learning to move without pain.

Matthias:
Diane – thank you very much for sharing these fascinating insights!

I hope more people will be inspired by your example.

Interview with Diane Jacobs - Part II

The first part of the interview is here.

Diane:

From that point on I became an ectodermalist. I deliberately gave up worrying about muscle function, joint alignment, posture, all that stuff. I became mainly interested in helping people downregulate pain, manually, but since then I've focused my efforts on learning all I can about that first layer that is contacted in manual therapy, about how it reads contact from another nervous system.

This has taken me into learning about the brain faster than anything ever did previously. I've read all I can lay hands on about pain, how the brain works, how it evolved, how it produces movement, pain, and perception as output, how it "feels" its environment, how it constructs strategies for its own survival and for that of its "organism". As fast as I can learn, more info is being produced. Is it possible to ever know enough?

I've learned about the cutis-subcutis layer, how it regulates homeostasis, about the importance of the cutaneous nervous system in this regard, how although it doesn't innervate "muscle" it is still "motor" in that it has autonomic efferent function as well as afferent sensory function.

I've done a dissection of the arm, to learn how the underlying cutaneous nerves (which run parallel to the skin) send off many mechanosensitive disseminating twigs that embed into skin from below, via tubular skin ligaments. I was allowed to photograph this work, about which I'm currently writing an article.

All this sensitivity built into skin is adaptive, and can be construed as the brain's own sensors, feelers, into the environment. Touch skin in a therapeutic context and it is as if you are touching someone's brain, on many levels. Knowing the levels and knowing how to help them downregulate themselves properly is the whole knowledge base that helps manual therapy make more sense.

I'm involved in a study to determine the effects of a completely nervous system based form of treatment, which I have called "dermoneuromodulation", on pain. It considers the cutaneous nervous system closely, tries to move it carefully according to the principles of neurodynamics.

I am still in the process of de-programming myself from all the mesodermalist learning I took on, but have made a lot of progress. Instead of viewing manual therapy as something I do "to" someone's body, I see it now as interaction "with" someone's nervous system.

Matthias:
"From what we heard so far - it seems that your approach could be described as helping people heal/help themselves - pointing their brain in the right direction. It seems to me that this dermoneuromodulation is different from other treatment methods because you emphasize downregulating much more than others which are more about adding strength here, increasing mobility there and so on and so forth. Your treatment is more about removing obstacles so that the brain/body can heal itself. Would you agree with this assessment?"

Diane:
I would agree with you in general, especially the part about obstacle removal. But I wouldn't say my treatment does this - when the brain is ready to change its output, it does. That's all.
The whole illusion that I, the therapist, create change in someone else's nervous system, is fantasy. I like to think of my work as pointing out possibilities to the patient's brain.

I feel like I just hold up a flashlight while the patient's brain gets busy fixing the "problem". :) I think my presence is necessary so the nervous system can get a good "read" or "fix" on some body part, but it does all the heavy lifting - my role is to feel the changes as they occur.

Matthias:
"It sounds to me that by using skin and it's cutaneous nerve system you are in a way talking directly with the patients brain - trying to establish “first contact” so to speak. What role does the patient play during this treatment process? What are your instructions to them? Should they try to move the part of their body that is being treated? Should they just observe?"

Diane:
The patient plays an observing role, but it's a lot bigger than it sounds: I ask them to let me know immediately if they experience any discomfort. Most people willingly take this task on - it not only gives them a tiny, manageable, focused task to do, it reminds them that they have charge of that all important "locus of control" - they become treatment manager/gate keeper, in a way.



Several other important objectives are met. They immediately realize they must be engaged in the process, mentally. They came in thinking it was I who would do all the work and they would just lay there, but now they realize it's about them focusing, breathing, staying in the process. All this from just one simple instruction - "I can't 'feel" your body the same way you can.

I want you to tell me if you experience any discomfort, because there is no point in reinforcing any pain pathways - that would be completely counterproductive - and besides, if you are experiencing discomfort it will be harder for you to relax and let your nervous system change itself."

Then I ask them to feel their breath go past their nose, on the way in, and on the way out. If I have a rapid or shallow breather to deal with, I ask them to breathe out for twice as long as they breathe in. That's about all.

It's like learning to meditate. The outward mechanics are rather simple, but a lot of processing goes on. I let them figure out how to do that themselves. Our connection is through the skin, and they've been instructed to tell me about any discomfort they might feel. Some people go for complete silence immediately. Others like to stay in more verbal contact.

I let them decide what level of engagement with the process they want - it's up to them, and I realize they need to establish rapport with me in their own time. As long as they can process something, dip in and out of the process even, it will be fine. Lots of people give me a running commentary of what they are sensing.

A useful metaphor is skin diving. Skin diving is the process. On one level it looks like I'm the one "doing" the skin diving, but in reality, I'm the one left on the boat managing the lines, staying alert to danger, and the patient is the one doing the dive, for the first time perhaps, diving right into their own processes, sometimes scary, sometimes wonderful, but it is they who have to do the "work", exploring, bringing up the sunken treasure - which turns out to be a fleeting realization that they can in fact move some part without pain, if they like.

They realize they have an option. It's a lot like mirror therapy I think. Instead of accessing a visual part of the cortex to convince the motor map that movement is possible, the kinesthetic sensing part of the cortex (or perhaps subcortical maps as well) are accessed somehow. And most patients will choose freedom to move over pain.

A space opens up, an opportunity to move without pain, and the patient accepts the possibility as their new reality. This decision-making is done well back of their "ordinary" decision-making capacities - it's quite automatic, although they get to be aware of it in the moment.

Certainly they are free to move in the moment if they would like, but usually I ask them to sit up periodically to move, see if they can move more easily. Most of the "movement" during treatment is palpable to me - it feels like physiology - little pulses start up then fade away, elongations occur, muscles twitch or feel as though they gently writhe,... small things that signal something rather large and non-conscious is happening below the surface.

Interview with Diane Jacobs - Part I

Some of you might already be familiar with Diane Jacobs from her blog Humanantigravitysuit or from the Teamblog Neurotonics where we share our views on certain topics.

I asked Diane a while ago if she would like to do an interview – and I’m happy to say she agreed.

She has over 35 years of hands-on experience, reads everything she can get her hands on and is a devoted student of the human body and it’s inner workings.

She has developed her own approach to treating pain and movement dysfunction – called Dermoneuromodulation.

By showing how she developed her style and treatment over the years I hope others will find some inspiration.

Here’s Part one:

Matthias:
Diane, glad you agreed to do this interview.

Please tell us how you came into the profession and what factors shaped your career:

Diane:

I entered PT school (a diploma program at U. of S.) in 1968, at age 17. I entered into the program hoping to be taught how to use my hands to help people rid themselves of pain. Three years later, I was a graduate with a license, and lots more growing to do. The hands were trained for a lot of things, but helping to relieve pain somehow had escaped inclusion in the curriculum.

The first decade out of school was mostly about growing up, learning to be independent. I worked in hospitals, took university classes frequently, figured my adult self out. I played by the rules and enjoyed life. I still wanted to learn to use my hands to help relieve pain, but hope was fading that I'd ever learn to do this within the profession of PT.

Around 1983 I went to a workshop taught by an osteopathic physician. There, I learned techniques for handling spinal dysfunction and other kinds of pain, muscle energy technique and positional release. I thought I was the luckiest person on the planet, bumping into this teacher.

Based on this single workshop, I pulled up my life in Saskatchewan, moved to BC, to be closer to the manual therapy school he taught at. For the next 20 years, on and off, I attended his school and became very good at using the techniques taught there. I began attending orthopaedic training workshops taught within the PT community, but dropped out, having lost interest - they were about learning to manipulate joints, and I was decidedly uninterested in pursuing that direction. The osteopathic techniques were more clinically interactive and very helpful to people.

By now I had my own practice, successfully treating all manner of patients with these gentle techniques. There was still something missing however - the treatment constructs were very biomechanical, and I was ready for more understanding.

Enter David Butler in 1998. He spoke a new fresh (to me) language - suddenly I was hearing all about physiology and brain and peripheral nerves. Peripheral nerves? They can "hurt"? This new layer of information and the emphasis on careful handling compared very favorably with the techniques I'd been using - I realized that all along, they had been "neurodynamically" friendly without the originators' ever having known the first thing about neurodynamics or any other concept about the physicality or structure or preferences or sensitivities of nerves in the body.

The techniques had simply been developed in concert with patients with treatment constructs tacked on after the fact, treatment constructs that didn't make any real sense because they were (archaic to me now) bio-mechanical, joint-based, structure-based (e.g., bones, fascia) - if they involved consideration of the nervous system at all it was a convoluted construct involving some sort of influence of treatment on muscle innervation, as if skin didn't exist at all.

Matthias:

Please explain why skin is so important in the approach you developed?:

Diane:

I realized no one seemed to care about skin. No one cared about the fact that all manual techniques are applied through skin. That the cutaneous system reads every kind of handling first. That the brain reads every kind of handling first. Practitioners only seem to care about what is underneath skin. This suddenly seemed ludicrous to me.

Then something else clunked into place, cognitively - a lot of detailed study of embryology. I remembered that skin came from ectoderm and so did the brain. At the manual therapy school all this embryology was taught, yet the techniques themselves were taught from a mesodermal or structural perspective, not from a nervous system perspective.

For me, cutaneous innervation became the transition; it is still structure, but helped me bridge the techniques I loved to do into a context that made much more sense as to why on earth they seemed so helpful. I realized they were brain-friendly - that when performed expertly, with attention in the moment to every detail in the moment, not in any zombie-like or mechanical fashion, but slowly, with feeling, they helped the brain down-regulate pain.

Matthias:

I hear you!

The focus – at least here in Germany – is still very much tissue based.
Neuroscience isn’t mainstream yet.
I want to point out to all the therapists out there who read this that they don’t have to give up their favorite techniques – just that they have to look at what they are doing based on the bigger picture.

If you are manually mobilizing a joint – you have to touch the patient – there is no other way to do it. This fact is sadly overlooked in most approaches.
By thinking in terms of altering nervous system input you can achieve miracles since the brain takes care of the rest.

Again: use what you have learned – but change your thinking about why you apply it and how!