I have learned to appreciate life a little more
In Singapore, a young man's body turned against him after a single fall — his nervous system amplifying pain into something unbearable, stranding him in a wheelchair and, eventually, in despair. After conventional medicine offered no relief, surgeons at Ng Teng Fong General Hospital implanted a small pulse generator along his spinal cord, interrupting the misfiring signals before they could reach his brain. The case of Muhammed Arshad Assainar, 22, illuminates both the cruelty of rare neurological conditions and the quiet promise of neurotechnology for those whom standard care has abandoned. It is a story about the narrow distance between suffering and function — and what it means to reclaim ordinary life.
- A single fall triggered Complex Regional Pain Syndrome so severe that even a bedsheet grazing his foot caused writhing agony, eventually confining Arshad to a wheelchair and pushing him toward suicidal thoughts.
- Conventional treatments — physiotherapy, nerve-calming medications — failed entirely, placing him in the one-in-five CRPS cases that resist standard care and demand more drastic intervention.
- Surgeons threaded electrical leads directly against his spinal cord, connecting them to a matchbox-sized pulse generator implanted in his abdomen that jams amplified pain signals before they reach the brain.
- A week-long external trial in May 2025 confirmed the device worked, leading to permanent implantation the following month — modern wireless-rechargeable batteries sparing him the repeat surgeries older models required.
- Within days his pain dropped sharply; within months he was walking again — not cured, but transformed, describing a renewed appreciation for the ordinary tasks that had once felt impossible.
Two years ago, Muhammed Arshad Assainar could not walk. A routine fall — his full weight landing on his right leg — set off a cascade of pain so severe that even a blanket touching his foot at night sent him writhing. The 22-year-old part-time administrative officer moved from crutches to a wheelchair, his body weakening from disuse while his nervous system raged.
Doctors eventually identified the cause: Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, or CRPS, a rare condition in which the nervous system misfires after injury, generating pain far exceeding what the original trauma should warrant. Globally, roughly five in every 100,000 injury cases develop into CRPS — and only one in five of those resists standard treatment. Arshad fell into that unlucky fifth. Physiotherapy and nerve-calming medications did nothing. His mood darkened alongside the pain. "I felt like a burden to my family," he recalled. "I entertained bad thoughts... It was pointless to go on."
Relief arrived in an unexpected form: a matchbox-sized pulse generator implanted beneath the skin of his abdomen. Thin wires placed directly against his spinal cord send electrical pulses that intercept the amplified pain signals before they reach the brain — not a cure, but a jamming of the signal itself. The procedure unfolded in two stages: a week-long external trial in May 2025 to confirm the device would help, followed by permanent implantation the following month. Modern wireless-rechargeable batteries eliminated the repeat surgeries older models required every three years.
The results were immediate. Within days, his pain dropped sharply. Within months, he could place his right foot on the ground and walk. He is not pain-free — the device masks rather than eliminates his condition — but the transformation is profound. A young man who had contemplated whether life was worth living now speaks of appreciation. "I have way less pain," he said. "I have learned to appreciate life a little more." That shift, measured in the space between despair and function, is the story.
Two years ago, Muhammed Arshad Assainar could not walk. A simple fall—his full weight landing on his right leg—set off a cascade of pain so severe that even a blanket touching his foot at night would send him writhing. The 22-year-old part-time administrative officer found himself first on crutches, then confined to a wheelchair, watching his body weaken from disuse while his nervous system screamed.
When doctors ran their tests in late September 2024, after he spent two weeks hospitalized, they identified the culprit: Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, or CRPS. It is a rare condition that emerges unpredictably after injury or trauma—the body's nervous system misfires, becoming hypersensitive and generating pain far more severe and prolonged than the original injury should warrant. Globally, roughly five in every 100,000 injury cases develop into CRPS. Of those, only one in five becomes resistant to standard treatment. Arshad fell into that unlucky fifth.
He tried the conventional route first. Physiotherapy. Medications designed to calm an overactive nervous system. Nothing worked. The pain intensified. His mood darkened. "His pain was so intense and persistent that it was beginning to affect his mood," recalled Harinda Goonesekera, an anaesthetist at Ng Teng Fong General Hospital. "At this point, he was feeling desperate and was also feeling depressed." Arshad himself described the spiral: "I felt like a burden to my family, so I entertained bad thoughts... It was pointless to go on." In the United States, some CRPS patients facing similar desperation have chosen amputation—removing the limb entirely to escape the pain.
For Arshad, relief came in an unexpected form: a matchbox-sized device surgically implanted beneath the skin of his abdomen. The pulse generator works not by curing CRPS but by jamming the pain signal itself. Thin wires, placed directly against the spinal cord, send electrical pulses that interrupt the amplified pain messages before they reach the brain. "It will treat the over-amplification of pain at the spinal cord level by jamming the signals and stopping the patient from perceiving the pain," explained Low Shiong Wen, the hospital's head of neurosurgery.
The procedure unfolded in two stages. In May 2025, under local anesthesia, doctors threaded the leads into his spine and connected them to an external generator worn on a belt—a test-drive lasting about a week to confirm the device would actually help. When it did, they moved to permanent implantation the following month. The modern pulse generators use wireless-rechargeable batteries, eliminating the need for replacement surgery every three years that older models required. If the device fails or the wires shift position, surgery becomes necessary again. But for Arshad, the results were immediate and dramatic.
Within days, his pain dropped sharply. He began physiotherapy to rebuild muscles that had atrophied during his months of immobility. Within months, he could place his right foot on the ground. He could walk. He could perform the ordinary tasks of daily life without the constant struggle that had consumed the previous year. He is not pain-free—the device masks rather than eliminates his condition—but the difference is transformative. "I have way less pain," he said. "I can basically do day-to-day tasks now without struggling, compared with how I did in the past year. I have learned to appreciate life a little more." A young man who had contemplated whether life was worth living now speaks of appreciation. That shift, measured in the space between despair and function, is the story.
Citas Notables
Even having a blanket touch my right foot at night would make me jump and writhe in pain— Muhammed Arshad Assainar, describing his condition before treatment
It will treat the over-amplification of pain at the spinal cord level by jamming the signals and stopping the patient from perceiving the pain— Low Shiong Wen, head of neurosurgery at Ng Teng Fong General Hospital
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does CRPS develop in some people after injury but not others? It seems almost random.
It is random, in a way. The exact mechanism remains unknown. Doctors believe the nervous system experiences a malfunction—it becomes overly sensitive, creates exaggerated inflammatory responses. But why one person's body does this and another's doesn't, after similar injuries, is still a mystery.
And conventional pain medication simply doesn't work for people like Arshad?
Not for the severe cases. He tried physiotherapy, tried medications designed to calm the nervous system. Nothing touched it. That's when you're looking at invasive options—surgery, implants, or in some cases, amputation.
The device doesn't cure him, though. It just masks the pain?
Exactly. It's a jamming system. The pain signal is still being generated at the spinal cord level, but the electrical pulses interrupt it before it reaches his brain. He doesn't perceive the pain. His quality of life improves dramatically, but the underlying condition remains.
What happens if the device fails?
Then he'd need surgery again to replace it. The wires could shift position, the battery could fail, the hardware could malfunction. It's not a one-time fix. It's a management tool that requires monitoring and potentially repeated intervention.
But for someone who was in a wheelchair, contemplating suicide, this must feel like a miracle.
It's not a miracle—it's engineering and medicine working together. But yes, the human dimension is profound. He went from feeling like a burden to his family to being able to walk, to do daily tasks, to appreciate life again. That's the real story.