Imagine being afraid to brush your teeth in the morning. Imagine skipping a meal because you are terrified that chewing might set off an explosion of pain in your face. Or standing in a gentle breeze and flinching because even the wind feels like a weapon.
It sounds like a nightmare, doesn’t it? But for the patients I see every day with Trigeminal Neuralgia, this is real life. They often describe the pain to me not as an ache, but as a sudden electric shock—a lightning bolt that strikes out of nowhere and brings their world to a standstill.
The hardest part isn’t just the pain; it’s the confusion. Most people spend months, sometimes years, asking the same question: Is this a toothache? Is it a migraine? Am I imagining it?
The Great Masquerade: Why Facial Pain Confuses Us
The face is a complicated place. It’s a busy highway of nerves, and pain here loves to wear a mask. This is why I often call Trigeminal Neuralgia a “masquerader.”
I cannot tell you how many patients come to my clinic after they have already had two or three perfectly healthy teeth pulled out. They felt the pain in their gums, so they went to the dentist. The dentist did their best, maybe performed a root canal or an extraction, but the pain came back.
Why? Because the problem was never in the tooth. It was in the nerve.
To help you figure out what you might be feeling, I often break it down like this:
Dental pain usually throbs continuously. It’s a deep, dull ache.
Sinusitis feels heavy, like pressure behind your eyes or a blocked nose.
Migraines usually pound on one side of the head and make you sensitive to light.
Trigeminal Neuralgia is different. It doesn’t throb. It zaps.
When I listen to a patient describe their symptoms, I am looking for very specific clues.
If you tell me the pain feels like a sudden, sharp electric current that lasts for just a few seconds or a minute, my ears perk up. If you tell me that it happens when you do the most innocent things—like applying makeup, shaving, or even talking—that is a major red flag.
This is the cruelty of this condition: it turns the simple joys of life, like eating and speaking, into sources of fear.
In modern medicine, we rely heavily on machines. But when it comes to this condition, I believe the most powerful tool I have is my ears.”Trigeminal Neuralgia is a clinical diagnosis. An MRI is useful, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. Your story tells me the story.”
I diagnose this condition by listening to you. I look at the pattern of your pain. An MRI helps us confirm things and rule out other issues, but I don’t treat the scan; I treat the person.
Once we know what we are dealing with, we can stop the guesswork.
We usually start with medication. There are specific drugs, like Carbamazepine, that act like a damper on the nerve, quieting down the electrical storms. For many people, this works like magic in the beginning.
But I have to be honest with you—medicines often have a shelf life. Over time, your body might get used to them. You might need higher doses to get the same relief, and that can bring side effects like drowsiness or feeling off-balance.
When the medicine stops working, or the side effects become too much, we look at the root cause.
This is where Microvascular Decompression (MVD) comes in. It sounds complex, but the concept is actually quite beautiful and simple.
Usually, this pain is caused by a normal blood vessel that has moved slightly and is pulsing against your Trigeminal nerve. It’s like a wire short-circuiting.
In MVD surgery, we don’t cut the nerve. We don’t burn it. We simply go in, gently lift that blood vessel away from the nerve, and place a tiny, soft cushion between them. We stop the irritation at the source.
I know the word “surgery” is frightening. And yes, every surgery has risks—sometimes there is temporary numbness in the face while the nerve heals. But the vast majority of my patients wake up from surgery and realize something amazing: the lightning is gone.
If you are suffering right now, please know that you don’t have to just “live with it.””Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. There is a cure, and you can get your life back.”
If this resonates with you, or if you know someone who flinches when the wind blows, please reach out. We are here to help.
Written by:
Dr. Malathi Panchwagh
Anesthesiologist | Perioperative physician
A distinguished Brain and Spine Surgeon, shaping neurosurgical care in Pune, Maharashtra, India for over two decades.
Leave a Reply