Erika Conrad-Wess's Blog

After years of writing, revising, remembering, and reliving some difficult experiences, I'm proud to share NERVE: A Memoir of Chronic Pain, Medical Trauma, and Surviving the Healthcare System.

Part memoir and part examination of what patients face when medicine falls short, NERVE tells the story of life with chronic pain and the long search for answers.

If you've been waiting for release day, thank you. If you're discovering the book for the first time, welcome.

I look forward to hearing what resonates with you.

Paperback, hardcover, and Kindle formats are available through Amazon, and wherever else books are sold.

Signed copies are available here.

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For my entire adult life, I wanted to write a book.

I never intended to write a memoir.

Like many people living with chronic illness, I was too busy simply trying to survive. I was navigating the next appointment, the next medication, the next surgery, the next setback. Writing a memoir felt like something people did after their story was over.

Mine wasn't.

More than twenty years ago, I developed severe facial pain. What followed was a long and often bewildering journey through diagnoses, specialists, surgeries, medications, insurance battles, disability, and the American healthcare system. Along the way, I encountered extraordinary compassion from some healthcare professionals and profound betrayal from others.

Over time, I came to realize that my story was about more than chronic facial pain. It was about what happens when your body changes without warning. It was about searching for answers, learning to advocate for yourself, grieving the life you expected, and discovering that hope can persist even when nothing unfolds the way you imagined.

As the years passed, I found myself helping other patients navigate similar challenges. More than a decade ago, I created an online support community for people considering or recovering from microvascular decompression surgery for facial pain. Over the years, that community and its sister group have grown to include more than 8,400 members from around the world.

Again and again, I heard versions of the same story.

People struggling to obtain a diagnosis.

People trying to understand complicated treatment options.

People feeling dismissed, unheard, or alone.

People searching desperately for someone who understood what they were experiencing.

Their stories echoed my own. Different diagnoses. Different circumstances. But the same uncertainty, the same frustration, and the same search for answers. That's when I realized my story wasn't mine alone.

In many ways, it belonged to every person whose symptoms had been dismissed. Every person who questioned themselves because they'd been told, directly or indirectly, that what they were experiencing couldn't possibly be real. Every person who felt invisible, isolated, and alone.

I wanted them to know they weren't.

That realization became NERVE.

I wrote this book for patients who are frightened, frustrated, exhausted, or struggling to make sense of a medical system that often feels overwhelming. I wrote it for caregivers who want to better understand what their loved ones are experiencing. I wrote it for healthcare professionals who genuinely want to see illness through the eyes of the people living with it. And I wrote it for anyone who has ever found themselves facing a challenge that could not be fixed, cured, or neatly resolved.

This is not a book about having all the answers. If anything, it is a book about learning to live with uncertainty. It is about resilience, self-advocacy, grief, hope, and the difficult process of building a meaningful life when circumstances refuse to cooperate.

Throughout the writing process, I often found myself saying, "If this book helps even one person feel seen, or helps one family member better understand someone they love, it will have been worth writing."

Since advanced readers began sharing their thoughts, I can finally say for certain:

It was worth it.

If NERVE reaches one more person who feels alone in their illness—or one more caregiver or healthcare professional who comes away with a deeper understanding of what it means to live with chronic disease—then it will continue to be worth it.

Because the message I wish someone had given me all those years ago is still the one I hope every reader carries with them:

You are not alone.

I'm incredibly honored to share this deeply meaningful review from Anne B. Ciemnecki of the The Facial Pain Association.

Knowing that someone from the Facial Pain Association found the book both compelling and valuable is something I don't take lightly.

Thank you, Anne, for your thoughtful words and for the work you do supporting people living with facial pain. Your encouragement means more than I can say.

NERVE launches July 1, and I'm looking forward to finally sharing it with readers.

Anne's full review below.

"Nerve: A Memoir of Chronic Pain, Medical Trauma, and Surviving the Healthcare System was impossible to put down. Erika Conrad-Wess's journey resonated deeply, mirroring many of the emotional and physical stages experienced by those navigating chronic illness.

"Erika recounts her nearly 25-year experience with chronic facial pain through the lens of a "hero's journey," drawing thoughtful parallels to Homer's Odyssey.

"Her story captures several powerful emotional phases:

Frustration and anger when her symptoms were dismissed or disbelieved

Hope in pursuing new treatments and procedures

Despair when those interventions failed to provide relief

Moments of escape and restoration, such as during a tropical vacation

Acceptance and peace, learning to find joy despite ongoing challenges

"Over time, the narrative reflects a meaningful transformation, moving from self-blame and shame to recognizing systemic issues within healthcare, particularly the tendency to misinterpret a patient's search for relief as drug-seeking behavior. As her understanding evolves, so does her perspective on where accountability lies.

"Erika offers a balanced view of her interactions with healthcare providers—some are portrayed as compassionate and skilled, others as dismissive or ineffective. These experiences underscore the variability in care and highlight the importance of patient advocacy.

"While this is a deeply personal memoir, it also serves a broader purpose. The author emphasizes the importance of researching providers and treatment options, seeking recommendations, and becoming an informed and proactive participant in one's own care.

"Overall, the book is both a compelling personal story and a valuable resource for anyone navigating chronic pain or complex healthcare decisions."

When I started writing NERVE, I wasn't trying to write a book about chronic facial pain.

I was trying to write honestly about what happens when pain crashes into a life and utterly rearranges it. I wanted to capture an experience shared by millions of people living with chronic pain, to help others feel less alone, and to give voice to something many of us have felt but struggled to express:

We are right in front of you. We want to be seen.

"The deepest human need is the need to be understood."

—Stephen Covey

That's why the responses from my early readers have meant so much to me.

"This book is so, so important. I saw me on every single page."

"I finished it yesterday and immediately asked my husband if he would read it."

"Took me a whole two days to read it because I obviously could not put it down."

"Your book is not only an easy read, it is a great lesson for both the medical professional and the patient sides, an inspirational guide to life with pain and taking charge, a painful but fruitful path of self-discovery and more."

One reader even told me,

"I want to buy about a dozen copies and give them to people I know in the medical field."

If NERVE helps people living with pain feel understood—and helps others understand them more fully—then every difficult word was worth writing.

Two weeks until launch.

#NERVEBook #chronicpainwarrior #invisibleillness #memoir #BookLaunch #patientadvocacy #lifewithpain #mustreadbooks

Yesterday afternoon, I noticed a single Amazon shipping box on my front porch. Thinking little of it, I brought it inside to open.

I order from Amazon often enough that I rarely know what a given box might contain. When this one revealed its contents, I sucked in a breath so quickly I nearly choked on my own saliva. I had placed the order only two days ago and hadn’t expected it to arrive so quickly.

𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸, 𝙉𝙀𝙍𝙑𝙀.

I picked one up and felt the heft of it in my hand. I flipped through the pages, ran my finger across the spine. It was definitely a book.

With that realization came a mildly nauseating mix of joy, pride, gratitude, imposter syndrome, and fear of failure.

There are only a few essential tasks left to wrap up, and by the end of June, I will release my baby into the wild.

#NERVEMemoir #ChronicPain #MemoirWriting #BookLaunch #HealthcareStories #InvisibleIllness #IndieAuthor

Springtime in WNC. Need I say more?

Through the window, everything looks gray and waterlogged, but opening the front door is always a gamble. The conditions on the other side are anyone’s guess. A landscape that appears comfortable through insulated glass may actually feel cold and damp, like the mouth of a cave. A day that looks cool may turn out to be as humid as walking into a warm, wet blanket.

A little while ago, I opened the door for the Big Reveal. Today, gray and waterlogged is also humid and warm. Go figure. The discontinuity of it is unsettling, and my nervous system doesn’t appreciate surprises.

I was more exhausted after our recent trip abroad than I initially thought. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve held steady at about 90% recovered—but that last 10% is taking its sweet time. And when you live with chronic pain, 10% off your game isn’t just “a little tired.” It’s a vulnerability. Less resilience. More pain. Fewer spoons per day.

I’m almost back down to my usual level of pain medication, but the line between “enough to function” and “too much” is always a moving target. White-knuckling through pain while denying yourself available relief is a kind of mental exhaustion—dare I say mind-f#ck—all its own. There’s an end in sight, but only just.

What makes all of this harder is having to limit my activities more than I want to—especially after getting a taste of so much “going and doing” while we were traveling. But reducing my meds means reducing my capacity. For me, the gap between desire and capacity is one of the hardest parts of chronic pain.

Some days just feel heavier than others.
Today has been a lot to carry.

#ChronicPain #NeuropathicPain #FacialPain #ChronicIllness #InvisibleIllness #WesternNorthCarolina #SpoonieLife #PainWarrio

When I first decided to self-publish NERVE, I assumed that once the manuscript was finished, the hard part would be over.

I was wrong.

Writing the book was an enormous undertaking, but publishing it has turned out to be an entirely different project. There has been the cover design, interior typesetting, endorsements, category selection, Amazon requirements, media kit preparation, social media planning, and now the launch of my new author website: www.erikaconradwess.com

The good news is that each task brings the book one step closer to becoming an actual object that people can hold in their hands.

Today, after putting the finishing touches on my website, it was time to step away from the computer and have a proper sit-down. It wasn’t long before Eddie joined me. His response to a human in a recliner is to settle in nearby and groom himself in companionable silence. He takes relaxation very seriously.

He may be onto something.

NERVE is closer to publication than ever, and while there is still plenty to do, this evening I’m taking a moment to appreciate how far this project has come.

Eddie is, too.

#NERVEMemoir #SelfPublishingJourney #MemoirWriting #ChronicPainAuthor #IndieAuthor #BookLaunch #AuthorLife #WritingCommunity #CatsOfInstagram #ChronicPainAwareness

Today is a red-letter day.

As I write this, my book is being prepped for publication. The content is typeset, the cover is finalized, and today, I sent my headshot to the cover designer. For the first time, I can truly envision it as a finished book.

For so long, it has lived in pieces—notes, journal entries, so many archived versions… fragments of something I wasn’t sure I could fully stitch together. And now, in a very short time, it will be a physical object. Something that takes up actual space. A finished thing.

It’s hard to put into words how satisfying it was to see the first typeset draft come through.

It was pretty funny, actually. I practically squealed when I saw it. My cat Milo was asleep in my lap, wedged between my laptop and my chin as usual, and my reaction woke him. He looked at me like I had ruined his day—which, to be fair, is pretty much how he always looks at me. As he gathered himself and vacated my lap for a calmer spot to finish his nap, I told him: “Don’t judge me, grumpy—I wrote a book!”

The work won't end here. Launching an independently published book is complicated, but I am here for it!

More soon.

#JudgyCat #NERVE #Memoir #ChronicPain #MedicalMemoir #InvisibleIllness #PatientAdvocacy #IndieAuthor #ComingSoon

I’ve been home from Europe for over two weeks now, and I’m still not fully readjusted.

It’s springtime in WNC, which means the weather here has been predictably unpredictable. For people with nerve damage, weather swings can result in miserable pain. The last couple of weeks of pressure changes, temperature shifts, and storms rolling in and out have included some pretty severe pain days.

I’m still just trying to get my footing, and yet… here I go again.

Today we’re headed to Chapel Hill for Gabriel’s graduation from UNC.

In just four years, he’s graduating with highest honors and two degrees: a BA in Philosophy and a BS in Physics. I honestly don’t know how he pulled that combination off, but somehow he did, and I’m incredibly proud of him.

The weekend ahead includes several hours on I-40, two graduation ceremonies, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, family time, lots of activity, and very little recovery time in between.

Then on Monday, we head straight to Winston-Salem for my first appointment with my new pain doctor.

This is one of the strange realities of living with chronic pain: life does not pause while your nervous system is on fire. Sometimes the meaningful moments arrive at exactly the same time your body is least equipped to handle them.

So you control whatever variables you can.

You plan carefully.

You pace yourself.

You calculate your downtime.

You push yourself hard to be present for the things that matter.

And this weekend matters.

#ChronicPain‍ ‍#InvisibleIllness‍ ‍#NervePain‍ ‍#ChronicIllness‍ ‍#PainManagement‍ ‍#LifeWithPain‍ ‍#UNC‍ ‍#UNCChapelHill‍ ‍#GraduationWeekend‍ ‍#ProudMom

From the outside,

my life can look easy.

There are happy photos.

Trips abroad.

Dinners with family.

Moments where I’m present, engaged, fully there.

Many people see that and think, “She’s doing well.”

What they don’t see is what it takes to create those moments.

The planning.

The pacing.

The calculation behind every decision.

Which pill should I take?

When should I take it?

What will I have to give back later?

How will I pull this off?

Those carefully constructed moments exist because I chose them—despite knowing what they would likely cost me.

They are completely real.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙩𝒂𝙞𝙣𝒂𝙗𝙡𝙚.

If you live in a body like mine, you understand.

#ChronicPain #InvisibleIllness #PainManagement #PatientVoice