I suffer from ‘white coat’ syndrome, but not like other people

I suffer from a strange medical syndrome. I’ve probably had it for most of my life. Still, I became aware of my syndrome only recently, when I felt a tingling in my lower legs.

The tingling persisted over several weeks, and I booked in to see a neurologist. Brain doctors are very busy, so I had to wait several more weeks to see him. The tingling was incredibly annoying, and I longed for it to stop.

My symptoms disappear when I see the doctor.Credit: iStock

I was extremely relieved when the day of the appointment finally arrived. The neurologist took a thorough history, and then asked me to describe the tingling.

I paused, and focussed on my legs. OK, I thought. That’s weird. They felt completely normal. They hadn’t felt normal yesterday, or any of the days before. I realised, with dismay, that the tingling had magically vanished that morning.

“Um…” I said awkwardly. The doctor waited. I felt like a hypochondriac fool. And then, to my even greater shame, I wished that the tingles would reappear.

My medical syndrome has nothing to do with my tingling legs, and everything to do with what happened in the neurologist’s office. You’ve probably heard of the “white coat” effect, in which a patient’s blood pressure rises upon seeing a doctor. Well, I experience the opposite of that. When I see a specialist, my symptoms all but disappear.

If it happened once or twice, it would be a fluke, but this seems to be my regular pattern. Over the course of my life, I’ve experienced all sorts of medical issues, most of which have been witnessed by my GP. But when she writes me a referral, and I sit down with a specialist, my ailments are miraculously cured.

Now, I’ll take a cure where I find it, and it would be well worth the price of the appointment just to feel better as I walk through the door. Unfortunately, though, the cure is never permanent. Whatever symptoms I experienced in the lead up to seeing the doctor inevitably relapse the moment I pay the bill.

Last week, for example, I saw a dermatologist, after suffering with rosacea for several months. I have had red and blotchy skin for the better part of a year, and no lotions or potions cured me. And yet, on the morning of my appointment, my skin was inexplicably clear. The only flush I experienced in the dermatologist’s room was from the embarrassment of wasting her time. I mean, I wanted clear skin – I had longed for clear skin! – just… not that particular day.

And I still recall trying to cancel my tonsillectomy on the morning of the long-awaited surgery. After two years of painful, recurrent tonsilitis and several courses of antibiotics that never quite worked, I had woken up for the first time feeling perfectly well.

Kerri Sackville woke up on the morning of her surgery feeling perfectly well. Credit: Getty Images

There was only one time I can remember seeing a specialist without experiencing any improvement in my symptoms. I was consulting a doctor about an otoplasty, to fix my extremely sticky-out ears. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my ears didn’t flatten to my head just because I made an appointment.

My response to medical appointments is like a demented Murphy’s law: what can go wrong, will go wrong, even if it means it suddenly and inexplicably goes right. And, after all these years, I’m still not sure of the psychological mechanism. Do I feel that I’m not worthy of a specialist’s attention? Am I so keen to show a doctor my symptoms that I drive the symptoms out of existence? Am I so scared of seeming neurotic that I create a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Or am I so flooded with endorphins at the relief of seeing the doctor that all negative sensations disappear?

I suppose I could book an appointment to see my therapist to discuss the causes of my syndrome, but I think we all know what would happen if I did. By the time the day arrived, I would have either lost interest in the problem, or figured out the answer myself. You see, my syndrome applies not only to physical ailments, but to my mental health as well.

I’m sure you can guess the end to the tingling story. The very next day, it returned with a vengeance. My neurologist is still sorting it out.

Still, there is definitely an upside to having “Reverse White Coat” syndrome. Whenever a doctor checks my blood pressure reading, it is always perfectly fine.

Kerri Sackville is an author and columnist.