It Wasn’t Funny at the Time

I received a call from a New York psychiatrist who had shared patients with me in
the past. He wanted to know if I would make a house call - money was no object -
to his brother’s estate. His brother, Dr. Marvin, was experiencing uncontrollable
vomiting due to chemo treatments. He mentioned that Dr. Marvin was a surgeon
affiliated with a well-known local medical college, and he did not believe in
Hypnosis. The medical options Dr. Marvin had tried to control his nausea had
failed, and his weight loss was now becoming a life or death issue.
I drove an hour to the “Gold Coast” of Connecticut to one of those communities
where you have to ask them to open the gate. I drove past beautiful mansions
and sculpted landscapes until I arrived at the most expansive home of all at the
end of the street.
I rang the bell and a staff member opened the door and escorted me into a large
room full of bookcases and interesting objects of art from around the world. The
room was furnished with burnished leather chairs and a comfortable long sofa, at
the end of which sat my suffering client, Dr. Marvin. He explained to me in a soft
professional tone that I was allowed there only to appease his younger brother.
Dr. Marvin had no interest in Hypnosis and did not believe in it. He said, “There is
NO SUCH THING as Hypnosis.” He handed me a check and told me to put
whatever I charged on it, and to please leave.
I grabbed the check and told Dr. Marvin that I was glad to leave.
I paused on my way out and turned, and I told him I disliked vomit very much and
that at one time I had had an intense and crippling vomit phobia. I was now cured
of that, but even still I had had to force myself to come here and felt somewhat
hesitant about the idea of enduring his vomit. This caught Dr. Marvin’s interest
and I went on.
“When I was a boy growing up in Buffalo, New York, my parents sent me away for
two weeks every summer to my cousins in nearby rural Canada. My Aunt June
was my father’s only sister, and she had four children in my age range. Aunt June
had been widowed when her four children were very young, and she worked very
hard to keep their farm property going and food on the table for her family. But

somehow that family of hers had a lot of joy, more happiness and love than my
own family of origin.” I could see by the change of the look on Marvin’s face and
in his eyes that he recalled some similar childhood memory. He began to match
my body, breathing, and tone, and then I was gently guiding him into trance.
I went on, “They were awful practical jokers and it was two solid weeks of pranks
and gags and a lot of fun. Buckets of water on top of doors, no food was safe, no
sleep was sound, alliances were made and betrayal was expected - I loved it.”
“My youngest cousin, Karen, was an adorable, sweet and seemingly innocent
young girl. She had three raucous, athletic brothers who were always in trouble.
While visiting there we all shared chores. On my last day there, my Aunt June
came in from her yardwork and told me that Karen had thrown up in the back
bedroom, and that it was my turn to clean it up. She handed me a stack of paper
towels. I gagged at the thought of the disgusting mess, my face got hot, my
stomach churned, my legs went weak, and I declined. My aunt insisted. To
support her case, my other three cousins were now there as enforcers, while
Karen smirked in the background.”
“I walked through the insistent gauntlet of my cousins and aunt towards the back
room and the dreaded vomit. I could see it, there in the corner of the room. I
made a quick decision to crawl over to it with my eyes closed, to hold my breath
and cover it very fast with the paper towels. The closer I got to the vomit, the
more intense my own urge to vomit became. I was sweating and my ears were
ringing. Finally after many stops and encouragements or threats from my cousins,
I reached the vomit and put my paper towel enclosed hand on it. Within a
second, I knew something was not right - instead of hot and mushy, it felt solid -
like rubber! I looked up at my cousins who by now were laughing uncontrollably,
and I realized I had been pranked once again and that the vomit was fake rubber
vomit.” At this point in my story, Marvin was laughing as well. I said to the
doctor, “I wonder what happened to my uncontrollable urge to vomit? It
vanished in a second - just like yours will from now on whenever you need it to.”
We did not exchange another word. I put my check in my pocket and left. I
received a call from my psychiatrist friend later that evening, thanking me
profusely. Marvin was amazingly feeling better, his nausea had abated and he
was eating solid food. My psychiatrist friend was now the hero of the family for

suggesting a Hypnosis house call. Follow up revealed that Marvin was able to
control his nausea through the completion of his chemotherapy regimen, his
cancer went into remission, and he was able to return to his surgical practice.
Milton Erickson pioneered the use of conversational Hypnosis and the use of
stories as both a teaching tool and to induce trance. Storytelling is a vehicle for
the use of imbedded commands and therapeutic metaphors. I am reminded of a
case where Erickson visited an elderly woman in a hospital who was dying of
cancer. She was in torturous pain. She did not believe in Hypnosis and did not
want to see him. The family stood outside and begged him to persevere with the
visit. He then rushed back into the room and emphatically and urgently warned
the woman, “There’s a giant ferocious tiger under your bed!” Her body started
with alarm and fright, and she looked at him in petrified shock. After holding his
gaze for a moment, she collected herself, breathed deeply, and said with quiet
anger, “There is NO TIGER under my bed.” Erickson responded, “But it sure
chased away your pain for a few seconds, didn’t it? If you allow me, I can show
you how to chase away your pain in a more permanent way.” The obvious
veracity of this won her over, and she made the decision to let Erickson work with
her on controlling her pain. Erickson proceeded to help his client to have a pain
free end of her life. She peacefully passed away several weeks later.
As Dr. Marvin said, “There is no such thing as hypnosis.”

By David J. Norton, LPC and Paula Norton, MA