Brainwaves

Catch some alpha waves.

The possibility of measuring brainwaves with an EEC machine in real time (Strange phrase) means that researchers and neuroscientists have, in recent years, been able to see our brains in different states. Pop on the strange electrode peppered skull cap, and perform certain tasks, or enter different states of consciousness and the machine can see the difference.

Did you know, you generate four distinct types of brainwave?

Beta for busy. When you are involved in vigourous rapier sharp debate, on stage, playing chess, or deeply engrossed in sodoku; that’s when you are generating beta brain waves. These waves are fast and made of little waves (small amplitude high frequency)

Alpha waves. When you relax your mind and let your body go limp, when you are moving slowly and smoothly in the moment, when you are staring at the flickering flames of a fire, or find yourself staring from the window, or in a kind of dream watching the sea. Or indeed when you are in a hypnotic trance or in meditation. That’s when you are generating Alpha waves. Stronger but slower (Bigger amplitude, lower frequency.) It’s interesting to note that you don’t have to be inert to generate alpha waves. It could happen when you are “in the flow” – cycling, walking, running, playing an instrument, etc.

Theta waves: You are asleep and dreaming, or possibly in a state of deep meditation or deep trance. Even slower frequency.

Delta waves; dreamless sleep. When you are asleep but not dreaming, when you are unconscious. Very slow frequency.

Don’t go any slower or you are dead.

Interesting, but so what?  What does this mean for someone turning up for a session of hypnotherapy?

First thing to get straight is that a proper Hypnotherapist is not going to get you to run nude around the room imitating a chicken. Second thing: they couldn’t make you if you didn’t want to, in fact they can’t hypnotise you unless you want to be. Also you won’t get “stuck” in hypnosis – if nothing happened you would return to beta land in a while, and if there was an emergency you would pop back in an instant.

Research into hypnosis, hypnotherapy and neuroscience seems to fall broadly into two categories. One area is about what happens in the brain when you are in “trance” like states, and includes the study of things like the brainwaves mentioned above.

The second area is concerned with the effect of suggestions made to someone in a trance. There are hypnotic suggestions (which act during the hypnotic state such as “now I wonder if you can imagine the view from your window”) and post-hypnotic suggestions (which act after the hypnotic state is over, such as “when you next put your hand into your pocket and feel the edge of the cigarette packet you might take your hand out and decide instead to drink some cool clear water”).


So you might arrive for your session and there might be a fair amount of talk first, perhaps about the previous session, or how things are progressing, or how you feel about your presenting issue. Next there would be the hypnotic part of the session. You would be in a nice comfy chair, and you might be asked to relax and breathe more slowly, or something like that. The Hypnotherapist would probably speak a bit slower than usual, and you might close your eyes and go on a meditative journey.

This is where your brain waves would most likely change from beta to alpha waves. You probably wouldn’t fall asleep (although you could), and you would probably be actually very focused on the words and the voice and the journey. At least that’s what I experience.

In the alpha wave state you are very relaxed and receptive to ideas and connections and so on. If you were asked to imagine the colour Yellow you would probably (but not necessarily) really “see” yellow. Not the same as imagining it now while you read this. It’s also possible in this state to get rid of unwanted noise and clutter and really focus on one specific thing.

For example you might have seen this thing on some brain trainers where you have to point to the blue lettered word:

BLUE      YELLOW

In our normal beta state our conscious mind is momentarily confused as it runs between two sets of conflicting data, we can’t easily turn off our automatic word reading function that we have built up with years of practice. One part of your brain is reading the word yellow, and knows it conflicts with another part of the brain which identifies the colour yellow.

It’s called the Stroop effect. But under hypnosis it might be suggested that the English words were meaningless squiggles and then it would then be easy to spot the word written in yellow, because the automatic reading would be turned off.

So if, in hypnotherapy, it was suggested that all doctors are not bad, and that you can see them as people rather than functionaries, and that next time you go to the hospital you might notice the human underneath the white coat (post hypnotic suggestion) it is possible that in reality you may well see “them” in a different light. (By the way that was my presenting issue at one point -I'm not saying that doctors are bad.)

Equally if your were relaxed into a very calm and peaceful state of consciousness, so that you were chilled as an ice cream, and then you were asked to pinch your forefinger and thumb together, you might find that afterwards, back in beta land, that if you pinched your forefinger and thumb together you might feel all calm again. (This is an anchor)

Not so weird when you think that if you heard one of your most favoured teenage tracks from way back when (that’s a long time ago for me) you might be transported back to . . . that time and place. Ahh . . .

So then, after a while, the Hypnotherapist would encourage you back into beta-land. You might be a bit “blinky” for a couple of minutes, and you might need to adjust for a short time. There would probably be some more talk at this point.  You might find that you had a distorted idea of how long it all took, and it’s true that some of the details might have faded.

So if you had, for example, Ulcerative Colitis, which was being whipped up by certain stresses in your life, you can see how this might be a good way to combat the stresses. In experiencing less stress you would have less of the stress hormones in your bloodstream.

Alarm response, resistance, exhaustion. This is the stress cycle. Something worrying happens you have an alarm reaction and flood yourself with adrenaline etc. If the stressor goes away you are able to return to normality, but if it keeps going you will have to resist. So you will constantly be releasing stuff into your bloodstream and feeling bad. If you have Ulcerative Colitis, and you are stressed by this, you may have to cope with it for several years with horrible peaks of stress during flare ups. Eventually you will be exhausted. And that is not good for you.

Even just generating alpha brainwaves, or being in a situation that brings them on could, I suggest, be a very useful thing to experience.

You can also catch some alphas in many other ways:

Meditation, yoga, listening to music to name but three.

So. . .

Just thought you might be interested . . .

I’m exhausted myself now – time for a nice cup of tea.

Oh by the way - I can't see a way to the follow this blog but I reccomend http://blog.dugnorth.com/
Most fun and interesting.

A

Pants, pumping and happiness.

A sample from the goody bag.

“. . . and what kind of stoma do you have?”

He’s a big man, very big. He’s standing next to a panoramic display of pouches, flanges, creams, powders, tubes, and boxes.

“Ileostomy” I answer smartly; sure of my answer.

“Come this way” he threads his way with surprising speed and agility through the milling throng of blue rinses, and sports jackets to another all encompassing display. He picks up a pouch and cradles it before me with true zeal.

“Now this. . .” he holds it up as if presenting a bottle of vintage wine “ . . . this features the AF300; the most advanced air filter on the market; filtering double the amount of air per unit of time than our nearest competitor. It’s also the pouch with the thinnest profile available, and features a unique closure unaffected by water. . .”

On the back of his rather hairy hand he has a flange taped, and is more than able, and certainly pleased to demonstrate the unique locking system. This man believes!

A woman enters the hall, lets call her Harmony, and makes a sonorous declamation “The floral display demonstration will start in two minutes in the aerobics studio”

We balance our plastic beakers of mulled wine on our Styrofoam plates full of sandwiches, volauvents and crisps as Clare and I survey the building. One of the main reasons I have accepted this courteous invitation is to get a look inside. It’s a Victorian pumping station. It used to contain two massive beam engines. It used to look something like this but now it’s the backdrop to wedding parties and the like. (Probably not funerals I don’t suppose.) Today it’s hosting a “day out” for people with stomas to enjoy “The Funny Footmen”, floral arrangment demonstrations and a wide range of surgical products for the ostomate, and a free lunch (Yes, I know).

After registering (Having your name ticked) and being given a goody bag (red with tube of mysterious cream, a biro, some post it notes, some sample fresh wipes, and two adhesive discs with an unknown purpose) we look around the room. I’m 54, but I’m quite surprised to see that I can’t see anyone my kind of age. If only I had a the uniform sweater with Pringle written on it

Climbing the thin winding stairway passage (hmm) to the top floor we are greeted by another floor full of v necked sweaters and sensible shoes grazing to the sound of a violin and a guitar.

There are various displays around the room, and I spot one that has a leaflet about reversal surgery. I hover near the table looking at the information on offer. A woman approaches me. I mention that I might be having reversal surgery sometime next year.

“ . . . and what kind of Stoma do you have?”

“Ileostomy” I say, quick as a flash.

“Oh. . . well this a colostomy organisation”

“ah . . . well it’s the reversal thing I’m interested in”

“Different with a colostomy”

“Oh.” I feel slightly odd about this conversation. “Oh well. . . “

“Not the same at all.” she fixes me with a beady eye. “Take a leaflet – if you’d really like one”

I do, Clare stows it away in her large carpet bag.

Moving on to a display of a local suppliers, a friendly woman approaches and asks if I’m happy with my suppliers. Just to clarify; there is quite a complex relationship between manufacturer, supplier, GP and one’s self. Suppliers will supply you with anything from any manufacturer, but they have to liaise with your GP via a series of prescriptions etc. I’m telling her that I’m happy with my supplier when Harmony makes another declamation:

“The floral display demonstration is scheduled to take place in the aerobics studio, but if anyone has difficulty with stairs we will move it to conference suite 6. Please come and speak to myself about this”

Then without breaking rhythm she moves towards the guitar and violin and starts to sing in a very loud operatic kind of way. The woman I was talking to is open mouthed.

“I didn’t know she could sing. . . “ The woman from the supply company is clearly dumbfounded by this transformational moment.

There’s a display of underwear, and I nudge Clare excitedly. Not that these are sheer and naughty; well cut and sturdy is nearer the mark. You, dear reader, may be in the enviable position of casually picking from a plethora of pant designs in your local shopping mall. Not so for us “baggers”

At the risk of getting into too much detail the high wasters I’ve got are good at the top end and keep everything under control. But down below . . . they aren’t – how shall I put this- they aren’t designed for a man, unless you’re a snooker player.

These look properly designed and cut. The sales rep brandishes a truncated torso model wearing the pants and encourages me to put my hand inside the pants to feel the hold they provide. I am slightly hesitant about this and slip my hand inside the pants.

“No; right down. . . go on! Right down to the crotch!” he exhorts me. They are very tight, well made. No labels and very smooth seams. In fact now that I have my hand in there I realise these are really quite superior.

“Wow! I’ll take some of these” I’m truly transported.

A couple of forms filled out and I’m looking forward to a delivery of sample pants.

It was exactly a year ago today that I went into hospital and had the surgery. The year since has taught me not to be scared and that happiness is a good pair of pants.

There is more

Summer 2010, Tenby, Wales

It was the 29th of November last year when I started this Blog. I was fearful of the future, robbed of the present, hating the past. In desperate need of some way to escape from the trap that I was in.

My problem, my fear, was that the only way out meant I had to submit psychologically and physically. Notice the word submit. In my heart I knew I was beaten by a disease that seemed perfectly formed to distress me by attacking the very areas in which I have always been vulnerable.

The medical institution as I saw it: monolithic soulless architecture, inhabited by people I could not relate to, and who had the power to punish, to humiliate, to violate me; all of this reminded me of going to boarding school at the age of 7.

My disease, as it seemed, making me disgusting and robbing me of dignity, centred on a social taboo, turning me back into a baby. Reducing me to a weak and repulsive middle-aged man with little future.

The only “cure” available involved, disfiguring and medieval brutality, usually reserved for the scaffold, thinly disguised by a word that hid the truth. Not a colectomy really, I was to be disembowelled. Literally.

My family, my doctors, my friends wondered why I didn’t just head for the operating theatre and get on with it. I was scared, lonely, angry, and, frankly, stroking the cat of death.

That was a year ago. A year ago to this very day I posted a video on you tube to try and laugh in the face of death.

What I did not know was that I could get through it all, and that even at the bottom of the shittiest bucket there is something good if you are prepared to look for it.

I’m coming up to the year mark since the operation. I have learned a lot about myself and about others who have kindly and with insight commented on this blog. I've also grown through the life experiences of others that I have followed. Take a gander at the blog roll and read how people have strength and humour and intelligence, and how they deal with the problems they have.

I also found out how much my life impacted on my family and started to understand how difficult it has been for them as well.

And . . .if you too have to face the operation, I can only say that my experience taught me that the fear and loathing was worse than the reality. There is a future and it is full of possibility and colour.

Ahem . . .  I thank you

(Steps down from soap box and packs up; heads away across the park)

Seasoning

Click to enlarge

Picture this

Previously on "The Knife You See":

As a result of having Ulcerative Colitis for 13 years, and despite medications a plenty, I faced the prospect of surgery almost exactly a year ago. In order to deal with this psychologically and to get some sense of control and calm I went to see a Hypnotherapist.

I found it so useful, that I decided to pass it on by learning to be a hypnotherapist myself. . .

I wonder if you can imagine the scenario, we are in one of those rather corporate rooms in the depths of a hotel. (Should that be an hotel?). The yellow-brown carpet with little crawly patterns made of small crosses in black stretch across the floor, the wood and chrome armed chairs with a purple seat and back, the whiteboard, the arc of chairs.

Perhaps, you can you see it?

Can you hear the air conditioning? The distant but constant traffic?  The clink of iced water in the glasses? The soft scribbling noise of biro on pad? Can you hear all that?

On the whiteboard the letters “IBS” are scrawled in black sitting like the dead body of a spider in the middle of a mind map.

We’ve been talking shit for a while now, running through the symptoms, the possible causes, diet, exercise, self esteem, confidence . .

. . .     U.C. is NOT IBS

I have subdued the impulse to spill my guts. Mention has not been made of Ulcerative Colitis but there’s been one mention of it’s evil twin Crohn’s disease. I have resisted the impulse to yak on about the difference between IBS (Syndrome) and IBD (Disease). Now we have been put into small groups to practice a new script.

This one is what’s called a guided imagery script. The Hypnotherapist takes you on an imaginary journey, and the things within that journey are actually encoded ideas that will influence the unconscious mind.  And that in turn can influence the conscious mind and the body.

Oh! I have just noticed that UnConscious mind and UC might have something in common. . . . I have thought for a long time that the gut might be the seat of a primal and brooding intelligence.

Anyway,  the script is good, I’m enjoying it and I’m getting waves of comfort and familiarity . . . . Yes familiarity is the word, the metaphor of a river, the idea of a steady constant balanced flow. That's the embedded idea.

Imagine the scene: Beautiful trees, a stream going through some woods, the stream clear and clean and sparkling. You and nature are in harmony. You take on the qualities of the stream. It’s good and it calms you down.

I’ve heard something similar before. A year ago. Hearing echoes of an old song reiterated in a new song. I like it. It comforts me.

But there's a beef for me. The thing is,  with U.C. it is really good to be calm and all that, but I'm not sure that it's going to sort out your "flow".

It'll help your head, but I think your gut will still have it's own particular problem. That's why it's an IBD not an IBS.

Curious to experience a thing from the other side. In my training so far I have had quite a few instances where I remember the conversations or hypnotic techniques of my Hypnotherapist.

Personally, I found this type of metaphor very useful. Even if it did not have the exact outcome I desired (like curing my guttering entrails) I would leave the hypnotherapy feeling much calmer and more in control. That in itself was worth a lot.

So there's a lot of questions and possibilities there.

The spectre of the psychosomatic view of U.C., the difference between IBS and IBD, the idea that whether U.C. is psychosomatic or not there is still value and comfort in having a calm mind. On balance I think hypnotherapy is a great tool (both from my experience and current training), and possibly you could you could achieve similar levels of calm through other activities. Meditation, playing a musical instrument, going walking, dancing . . . etc

Just a small point though, if you do use hypnotherapy make sure your hypnotherapist chooses their metaphors carefully; my first encounter with this analogy was a bit disastrous; the last thing I wanted was flow!

I wanted a dam.

Things are progressing well, by the way, I have hypnotised quite a few different people now, using a number of different "inductions". We've even covered hand levitation. Looking forward to full body levitation shortly :)

Plumbing for beginners.

They’ve made a real effort in here, none of those late 50’s early 60’s institutional colours, plastic seats, and the feeling of being a bad boy at school waiting for the cane.

Instead the ceiling arcs gracefully across a space that could be an airport or a university or a huge restaurant. There are TV’s displaying hospital information and BBC news, tropical trees in large pots, brushed steel handrails that I think have been nicked from Waterstone’s and Scandinavian style wooden floors. There’s even a string quartet playing live.

It’s a really good effort to make you feel less under threat. The receptionist was a bit of a Snow Queen; but to be fair she was efficient and she was doing her job. You can’t have everything can you.

I’m called through into a consulting room by the Stoma specialist – last seen when I had the operation to disembowel me.

But today I feel no fear, and I do not fear the future. I have been through enough to realise that I will survive and that life can be even better. So I feel absolutely OK.

Such a difference to this time a year ago when I was chronically ill and actually in danger of slipping off the disc of existence. I can’t believe how much I have changed. I am quite different.
  
She talks me through the reconstruction operation. You may know all this already but in case you don’t here’s the plan (There are some gory bits so look away if you don’t want to encounter that)

Imagine a hosepipe, and imagine taking half an arm’s length and bending it into a U shape. Now imagine slitting the pipe along the sides that touch. The edges could now be joined together to make something a bit like a long sporran. Now imagine all that again but this time it is my small gut.

They can do that and make a sporran or pouch out a part of my small gut. The bottom part of that is attached to your out-pipe. The top part is more complicated.

That part is not fully severed from the remainder of the small gut but kind of half sliced, and the pipe bent in two. Thus waste can escape out of the sliced section. This is turned into a new stoma with the route down and out temporarily unavailable.

Then it’s a matter of waiting for a few months for the down and out part to heal up while still being an “ostopath”.

Once it’s all healed up (and I’ve been to Glastonbury to feel the vibe) they do a few tests – nothing compared to the horrors of the past, and then, if all is OK, Its simply a matter of sewing up the half cut gut and . . .

 . . . .You have full 100 mb / sec broadband connection.

So not this Christmas – next Christmas I could be on the road back home.

It’s a long journey that I never wanted to take, but along the way I have learned I can take any shit and still survive.

I remain.

How en trancing.

look into my eyes

“Corpus insurance, Kelly speaking, how may I help you?

“Ah hello, I’m trying to get a quote for some public liability cover . . . I’m studying Hypnotherapy and we have to get public liability insurance . . .”

“Hypnotherapy . . . remind me what that is”

“Well. . . the client sits in a chair and I talk to them . . . relax them until they are very deeply . . . relaxed and then –um offer them therapeutic suggestions”

“They’re asleep”

“No, they’re in a trance”

“A trance.”

“Yes”

“Hang on I’m just going to run this one past my supervisor.”

“Ok”

The sound of music, up beat, a bit brassy. Time passes and I stare without focus at my computer and go into a bit of a dream. I’m brought suddenly out of my reverie by an abrupt end to the music and Kelly’s rather loud voice scything its way along the line. The words strung together with the rat-a-rat of a machine gun. Intoned like an incantation.

“OK just a few questions, but first I’m obliged to inform you that you must answer all questions truthfully and accurately to the best of your knowledge, some calls are recorded for training purposes, and in accepting this you agree to the receipt of occasional promotional material. Is that OK?”

“I just want a quote really”

“I know I have to ask you these questions to work out a quote for you”

“OK”

“Will you be using heat?”

“What? Er No”

“Working on a stage?”

“No it’s not like that”

“Using any medicinal substances?”

“No”

“Radioactive materials?”

“No – not at all”

“Strobe Lights?”

“No”

“Music at a high volume?”

“No – no music – its not like tat at all, they are sitting in a chair in my house or maybe their house, I just talk to them and . . .”

“They’re asleep right?”

“No they’re in a trance state. . . it’s . . .”

“What I’m going to do is take your number and get back to you on this one, what’s your landline number?”

Well, she said she would ring me back later that day. So far no call, but that’s all right because I found another company – Holistic Insurance.
No problem, completely understood. I’m now insured.

As part of the course I have to find practice subjects and work with them – fly solo as it were, and my first flight is tomorrow. I’ll tell you how it goes. . .

The world turns, and sun rises and falls again. . .

A friend of mine has volunteered to be a practice subject, and with characteristic punctuality he hammers my door quite forcefully and rings the door bell for good measure. I open the door and let him in.

Chit chat first it’s interesting to talk to him. Very. But perhaps I’m putting off the moment of my solo flight. So soon it's time to get on with it.

The weirdest bit is the transition from talking normally to starting the induction. It has to be a smooth cross fade. Not some ham fisted yank of the faders. I decide to go for the explicit but understated approach.

He closes his eyes and I hope his extremely busy mind relaxes. I think it does. I’m talking through a series of manoeuvres that I have remembered. Hoping I’m not missing something out.

Of course it’s a little odd at first, but soon it feels (for me at least) a good deal better. But I know I’m not giving as much space as I have done in practice sessions.

30 minutes later he emerges from the experience. He says he feels more relaxed. That’s good. He’s also been analysing and decoding what I have said - I expected no less from him. But that means that the conscious mind has been in play, and that of course blocks access to the unconscious mind. I am frustrated with myself for that. On the other hand it’s exactly what happened to me and I really wanted and needed some help. So maybe its OK.

Next time . . .  I will get better at this.