For Everything There is a Season

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Category: autoimmune disease (Page 18 of 19)

Doctor, I Trust You

November 13, 2011 / / 4 Comments
“I observe the physician with the same diligence as the disease.” ~ John Donne

Trust.

Doctors.

For the most part, it is difficult for me use those two words in the same sentence, unless the prefix “mis” is used in front of trust. In some ways, my mistrust of doctors is surprising because in general, I am a very trusting person. However like any other relationship, the patient-doctor relationship is vulnerable and when that trust is broken over and over again, it is then difficult to enter into another patient-doctor relationship with the confidence and trust that is needed to build a cohesive team.

I have very good reasons not to trust doctors. To start with, I am a registered nurse. I have spent a lot of time working in a teaching hospital and have seen firsthand the potential and actual mistakes that can be made when treating a patient. I have witnessed more times than I can count, novice and experienced doctors alike make grievous mistakes that sometimes have been thwarted by nurses and other medical professionals such as pharmacists. Sometimes, those mistakes do reach the patient.

However my bigger trust issues with physicians is due to my years of experience in being a patient. My first bad experience came when I was twenty-four years old and had Stage Two Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, which was misdiagnosed for over six months because two different doctors did not think it was probable for someone my age to have cancer. Then I was told several years later that heart palpitations I had been experiencing were due to anxiety; only to find out four years later that I had an actual conduction problem in my heart which was causing my heart to not function properly (AV Nodal Reentry Tachycardia). The third incident occurred over the past several years when I was battling a host of physical symptoms and was told by doctor after doctor that they could not find anything wrong with me. I was convinced I had an autoimmune disorder. Several doctors were convinced I was crazy. That myth was dispelled when a lip biopsy came back conclusive for an autoimmune disorder called Sjogren’s syndrome.

It would be easy to sit back after all of this and say “to hell with them” but the reality is, I need doctors. I also need to be able to trust the people who have my life in their hands. Easier said than done. So how do we do it? How do we build a trusting relationship with our physicians?

Like any type of relationship work we do in our lives, we have to start with ourselves. We have to look at what we do on our end that acts as a barrier between us and our doctor. For me, it was a matter of checking myself at the door. Because no matter who the doctor was or what the problem was, I always thought I was right. Of course I didn’t always let my doctor know this. Sometimes I would verbally disagree with a diagnosis or a treatment idea, but then other times I would go along with what they said, yet never really trusting that they had the right answer. The problem was, I was confusing thinking I was right in terms of medical knowledge with being right in terms of listening to my own body.

The attitude of not trusting what my doctor was saying was counterproductive because in order to heal, you need to believe and have faith that what you are doing to your body to heal it is making you strong and well. I fully understand that I got this attitude from incident after incident of being let down by doctors, subsequently putting my life at risk. After a while though, you have to stop judging people based on something wrong someone else did to you in the past. It doesn’t mean we cannot be educated and well informed patients. It means that we are partners with our physicians and we need to hold up our part of that relationship.

There are several other steps I have taken to build a trusting relationships with my doctors (I have several). To start with, I doctor shop. I find a doctor who is going to treat me with the care and respect I deserve. Because if they do, then when differences arise, we can attempt to work them out. I don’t doctor shop intentionally and I know this is frowned upon by the medical community, but if I have a doctor who either dismisses my current health concerns or cannot figure out what the problem is, I leave. Pure and simple. I may have worked on checking my cockiness at the door in terms of my medical knowledge, but I know my body. I know when there is a problem. Because of this tactic, I am on my fifth rheumatologist in three and a half years. And you know what? After all that time, I finally found one who correctly diagnosed the autoimmune disorder I have and is working with me to find the most beneficial medical treatment for my disorder.

I go to my appointments prepared and well informed so that my doctor takes me seriously. I ask questions, lots of questions. Not questions to challenge their medical knowledge, but questions that require an explanation for a diagnosis, treatment, or medications. Answers that will help me to understand what the plan is and subsequently help bolster my confidence in them. Finally, I try to remember that at the end of the day, my physicians are just human. They are not perfect. They are not God. They are people like you and I who happen to have a lot of education; which enables them to be called “doctor”. Therefore, when one of my specialists forgets a detail about me and asks me again because she just returned from a weeklong conference on the other side of the country, I take a deep breath and just remind her.

Trust takes time to build. And patience. I am now starting to reap the benefits of taking these steps towards building trusting relationships with my doctors. I am more receptive to trying new approaches to managing my illness, whether it is conventional or alternative. I am less anxious. Although I still keep careful track of what is going on with my medical treatment, I am not lying awake night after night wondering if someone screwed up. I am confident in the choices I have made in my medical providers and because of that, I can give up some of the tight fisted control I have felt I have had to maintain over the past sixteen years or so.

I feel a little lighter.

A little freer.

A lot more sane.

Final Diagnosis

August 12, 2011 / / 14 Comments
       When the world says, “Give up,”
       Hope whispers, “Try it one more time.” ~ Author Unknown
“When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

It has been three years and eight months. That is forty-four months of doctor’s visits, difficult procedures, emergency room visits, and hospital stays. One hundred and seventy-six weeks of tears, doubt, frustration, and anxiety. And approximately one thousand two hundred and thirty-two days of hope.

Hope for an answer. An answer that will give my illness a name. One that will give me credibility. One that will take the place of a doctor who says “I don’t know” or “all your tests are negative.” One that once and for all, will allow me to go through life without so many unanswered questions about my body.

I got my answer this past Thursday at an appointment with my rheumatologist. It wasn’t really supposed to be a shocking answer to the big question of what disease has plagued me for so many years. The first mention that I may have an autoimmune illness called Sjogren’s Syndrome was about in 2009, when I was seeing my previous rheumatologist Dr. Monarch in Boston. The problem was that the blood work for the disease was negative and continues to be so to this day. However he felt that due to the nature of my symptoms and the fact that they couldn’t come up with another diagnosis, Sjogren’s was the likely answer. I even had a lip biopsy done to try and prove his theory as a lip biopsy was the diagnostic gold standard for Sjogren’s Syndrome. But of course, it came back negative and the only answer I had was that I could still have the disease with a negative lip biopsy which although rare, is possible.

Despite being told that there were no doctors in the United States that specialize in Sjogren’s, I found a rheumatologist in Hartford who specializes in the disorder. Within months of seeing this new doctor, pieces began to fall into place, pointing us in the direction of a diagnosis. I had a nuclear medicine scan of my salivary glands that was suggestive of Sjogren’s and within a few months of the scan, I began to have difficulties with my parotid and other salivary glands, which along with my other autoimmune appearing symptoms, made me relatively sure that we were on the right path after all.

But there was always doubt. The doubt began five rheumatologists ago (I have seen over twenty specialists overall) when the first one I saw looked at my very painful fingers/hands and told me he didn’t think this would turn out to be an autoimmune disorder because my hands weren’t swollen and my labs were normal. Doubt continued to grow doctor after doctor, test after test, as a prominent Boston pulmonologist told me that my breathing issues were in my head. Doubt plagued me as I would go sit in my car after each appointment and just cry. Cry because I was so frustrated knowing how sick I was and yet not being able to prove it most of the time. Cry because it was suggested that I follow up with a psychiatrist for possible conversion disorder and depression. Cry even harder because I did have a history of depression and was even told that I had bipolar disorder, only to find out from the same psychiatrist that he believed my mood issues to be related to the autoimmune disorder.

But yesterday I was vindicated. My new rheumatologist, Dr. Parke, had suggested to me months ago that I should consider a repeat lip biopsy. There was always a question for me (and possibly for her too) that because I did not have dry mouth as a symptom when I had the first biopsy done, that was the reason it was negative. After doing a lot of research through the Sjogren’s Syndrome Foundation, I was also concerned about the technique used to perform and analyze the biopsy when it was done the first time. There is a very specific standard used for taking the sample and analyzing it. Dr. Parke and her pathologist at UCONN had successfully done this numerous times before. We decided to go ahead and do the second biopsy. The results were not going to change much in terms of my treatment; Dr. Parke was still going to treat me as a Sjogren’s patient if the results were negative. However a positive result would make me eligible for participation in clinical trials if I so chose and the benefits for me mentally and emotionally were immeasureable.

I went into my appointment yesterday not even expecting the results to be ready as Dr. Parke had warned me that it could take several weeks. But the results were in. I had Sjogren’s Syndrome. And all I could do within seconds of her telling me that was cry. I cried again in the parking garage for a good ten minutes before I could even get back on the road and I cried on and off all the way home, as well as the rest of the evening. I was shocked. As much as I had hoped for an answer, I never expected to get one.

I never expected my response to the news to be that emotional. It was (and still is) this weird combination of relief, joy, sadness, and anger all at the same time. I am not even sure anyone can understand it unless they have been in a similar situation. I know with one hundred percent conviction what I am battling. I can look at my doctors differently because I am not always sitting there in fear over how they perceive me. I have credibility with the medical profession as a patient. I know without a doubt that I will be taken more seriously when I show up in an emergency room or in front of a new medical professional.

I don’t want this to sound like because of the diagnosis, I feel like I can now be identified or defined by my illness. I have tried for years not to let that happen and I am not about to start now. If anything, the opposite is true.

 I am free.

I am free from the questions and speculation. I am free from doubt. I am free from being a hostage to a medical system that frequently makes judgments of its patients just because they cannot find the right answers. Well, at least for now. Most importantly, I am free from myself. I can spend less time looking for answers and more time fixing what is wrong with me.

And yes, there is still a lot wrong with me. The sadness/anger aspect of my emotional reaction to this diagnosis is very real. When I heard the news Thursday, it brought back every bad memory I have had dealing with this illness over the past several years and trust me, there are many. It reminded me of how I let very educated professionals make me doubt myself at times. It reminded me of days, before anyone would even treat my symptoms, in which my mother had to help me bathe myself and go to the bathroom because I could not use my feet and hands to do it for myself. Of countless hours in the emergency room being poked and prodded. Of losing my job of ten years as a pediatric nurse because I could no longer get to work on a regular basis.

Yes, it is best for me to have a diagnosis but somewhere in the back of my head, I always hoped that someday, this would all just go away. All of it. I envisioned waking up one day and I would be symptom free and we would be able to look back and say we didn’t know what it was but now it’s gone. Unrealistic? Of course. But now I know for sure that will never happen. I have a chronic autoimmune illness that has no cure or even approved treatment for. I will have it for the rest of my life. I think that deserves a certain amount of sadness and anger, but not for too long.

That being said, getting that diagnosis yesterday was also a strong reminder of how far I have come and what kind of person I have evolved into. I no longer need my mother to help me shower every single day. I can leave my house most of the time when I need to. I am seen by a medical professional now maybe every two weeks instead of several times a week. I still cannot work, but when I am well, I am able to be of service to people in small ways. My life has a purpose other than being a patient.

I have used this adversity to become a much stronger and self-reliant person. I am bold. I don’t take my good days for granted. I live my days like they count because I never know when a bad day is going to come. Struggling for a diagnosis has taught me patience, courage, and perseverance. It has taught me greater compassion for others. The quest for a diagnosis has taught me that doctors are human; they are not God and therefore we cannot expect them to act as such. And probably most importantly, this experience has taught me the power of faith and prayer. For that, I am most grateful.

In Sickness and In Health

July 20, 2011 / / 13 Comments

This week’s big revelation for me: it is easier to be sick when you live alone than when you live with another person. Disagree? Many people would. They would retort that it must be a lot easier to have the support of someone living with you when the going gets tough in the medical department. I cannot really disagree with that on some levels but on others, I feel like this week I can; even when you live with the most compassionate, patient, and nurturing man God has ever put on this face of the earth.

So why would I complain? Well, I am not complaining, just stating some facts. I am also not implying that I would ever want to change my living situation, so no rumors please! When you have a chronic illness, you live in a state of constant unpredictability. As I talked about a bit in a recent blog entry entitled False Assumptions, there can be days and even weeks where life just goes along relatively smoothly. You take your medications, keep your routine appointments, and manage your chronic symptoms as best as you can. However then there are days or weeks (maybe even months) where it is one constant battle after another.

Since about May or so, I have had one new issue after another to deal with in regards to my autoimmune illness. Hearing loss, dizziness and headaches started off this episode and now I have developed issues with my salivary glands which have resulted in pain, difficulty eating, more horrendous headaches, and just general discomfort. Add in a new round of steroids which are messing with my weight and to a small extent my mood, as well as some concerns about swelling near my lymph nodes (I am also a lymphoma survivor) and it is the perfect recipe for stress and exhaustion. I am mentioning all this not as a request for a pity party from my readers, but to lay the foundation to explain why it is sometimes easier to live alone. This is the most complicated my health has been since moving in with my boyfriend six months ago. I don’t just have myself to think about anymore when the going gets tough.

And that is what scares me. See, when you live with someone and are as connected to that person as I am to him, you can’t hide your little medical crises that well. I know, I know, you shouldn’t want to downplay that kind of thing from your significant other anyways. I can’t help but think that it would be so much easier though if I could. Why would I want to? Because I don’t want to bring him down. It can be exhausting to live someone who is physically struggling day after day for any period of time. Even despite my best efforts, the medical business can consume my day and our conversations. I guess it is good that I can step out of myself long enough to realize that. I know he is an adult and can take care of himself, but because I love him, I want to protect him; even if that sometimes means protecting him from me. Because when the autoimmune monster rears its ugly head, I just don’t have much to offer anyone and my boyfriend deserves to have someone who is emotionally and physically available.

The other point is that when you live alone and are dealing with an onslaught of medical issues, you can hide. Just pull up the covers and let yourself wallow in self-pity. Shut down from the world. To be honest, I don’t do that too often but when I do, I go all out. I put a special blanket on the bed for the dog so we can snuggle, grab my books, laptop, and TV remote to make sure they are not more than an arm reach away. I don’t answer the phone. It usually only lasts for a day or so, but I think that it can be necessary to give in and let myself emotionally (and physically) recharge. That day or so is actually a self-imposed time limit whether I am ready to face the world again or not. I know from firsthand experience that falling into a depression is only a few extra self-pity days away.

Here’s the thing though. I don’t want somebody else to actually witness me doing that! Oh no; I am a strong and courageous autoimmune-fighting warrior. I cannot let someone see me vulnerable! I have to protect the world! Yes, I do realize what bullshit that is now but like with everything else, figuring this out is a work in progress. More accurately, US figuring it out is a work in progress. We talked about all of this quite recently and here is what I (we) figured out:

~ It is not always my job to protect people that I love when I can barely take care of myself.

~ Trying to down play how lousy I am feeling or how scared I am with the person I live with serves only to alienate him, therefore making me kind of an idiot. We are only as strong as our communication with each other.

~ I am not sick three hundred and sixty five days a year. My turn will come to be there for him if I haven’t done so already. Now that I think about it, I have; he’s not always good at doing dishes before going to bed!

~He has some pretty strong views about not letting me wallow in any form of self-pity for ANY period of time. I think that is a very good thing in many aspects but I also sometimes think it’s necessary as I explained above. We will have to find middle ground on that one unless I make myself limit it to the span of his workday…ha!

I would love some input on this issue from those of you with medical issues who cohabitate with someone or live with someone who has their own medical issues. Be honest because chances are, you are not alone…

False Assumptions

July 13, 2011 / / 14 Comments
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~ Plato

“Honey, you’re so lucky. You should be grateful you are so young! You don’t have to take all these medications and deal with being sick all the time like the rest of us.”

Oh come the hell on, are you serious? The statement was made to me recently in a doctor’s office by a woman, maybe in her seventies, who is probably quite sweet normally. At that moment though, I just wanted to lunge at her and shake her incessantly. Not one of my finer moments I tell you! It was just myself and two other women sitting in a mini waiting room after our hearing tests; waiting to either see the doctor or take home the person we were responsible for driving there. I had made the mistake of looking up from my very challenging game of video poker and I guess the woman thought that was a perfect time to snag me into her “woe is me” session with the other absolute stranger.

I know, I know, the poor woman probably didn’t mean anything by it. Yes, you could say because I felt down and out that maybe I was oversensitive to her comment. But I have to say, it struck a nerve because it was just another example of how easily we make assumptions about people based on how they look. My autoimmune disease is what many in the chronic illness world would consider an “invisible illness” most of the time. Anyone who has spent more than ten minutes with me knows that in the past few years, I have logged in more hours in doctor’s offices and been on more medications than many people are in their entire lifetime. It is a fact I am not proud of and I can be well, a little sensitive about.

I really could have ignored the comment because reality was, my health concerns were none of her business. However I also felt strongly that I needed to speak up and educate this woman who made such a thoughtless comment to a stranger, however innocent it may have been. So in my head I quickly calculated if it was worth it to educate her about how looks can be deceiving or to just let it go because in the end, I would probably benefit the most from taking the path of least resistance. I decided to compromise. I turned to her and in the most patient voice I could muster, told her that I wished because of my youth that I was healthy and medication-free. I said to her that in actuality, I am currently taking six prescription medications, not to mention several other non-prescription ones because I have a chronic illness that has been difficult to get under control. Her response was simple. She just said “oh, I see” and then turned away to continue comparing notes with the other stranger. I could tell that I caught her off guard though as she appeared slightly embarrassed and I decided finally to just leave well enough alone.

What is the significance of this one simple interaction? Well, like I mentioned, it is a classic example of making assumptions based on what our preconceived notions are of people’s god given physical appearances such as age, weight, skin color and the like. This woman assumed that because I am young, that I am healthy as well. Kind of funny if you think about it because I am young and yet was still sitting in a waiting room for people having hearing tests! In relationship to medical issues, I have found that in this society, looking well is a disadvantage. I have not only encountered it personally, but have met many people who have also faced this challenge. If you have a disease such as lupus, crohn’s disease, depression, or fibromyalgia, there is usually not an outward sign of the fact that you are ill and/or have a disability. Wheelchairs are a concrete sign. So is wearing a scarf because you are losing your hair from chemotherapy. Being so fatigued that picking up three items in a grocery store makes you want to cry is not an outward sign. Crippling pain is not always an outward sign. I am in no way implying that people with no outward signs of illness have it worse or better than those that do. It does mean however that those with these invisible illnesses oftentimes have more explaining to do and well, that does seem to be a bit unfair; as well as tiresome and frustrating.

Now I am guessing that some of you are sitting there and wondering why a person with no outward signs of illness feels like they have to explain themselves anyways. Plain and simple, people just don’t get it sometimes and they can be pretty vocal about that fact. Doctors who don’t know much about autoimmune illnesses oftentimes don’t get it.  The government who determines if I am eligible for social security disability took almost two years to get it. For the most part, I am blessed that many people in my life realize that even though I may look alright, chances may be good that I may not be. The reality is though that I do have to explain myself on a regular basis. I have to explain why after being able to go to the gym one day; I may not be able to meet for a walk with a friend the next day. I have to explain why I cannot presently work. I have to explain the fact that after doing spending several hours volunteering in some capacity, I am down and out for a full three days. I know I look well most of the time. I actually DO feel well a lot of the time but when I don’t, it’s significant. It’s part of having a chronic illness.
While I was writing this blog entry, I thought of the quote from Plato that is used at the beginning of this entry and I decided to include it. I love it, but it’s not entirely accurate in this situation though because the woman in the waiting room was not being unkind. She was making assumptions based on her own ideals and preconceived notions. I think a better rewrite of the quote, for this blog anyways, would be: “Be thoughtful and think before you speak, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Lesson here is that you don’t always know exactly what battles other people are fighting, whether they be strangers or even friends/family members. I know I have made assumptions about people based on their appearance or behavior and have been dead wrong. So today I am going to try and remember to think before I speak. I encourage you to do the same….

Photo Courtesy of Chuck Myers

Acupuncture Part Two: The Benefits

July 7, 2011 / / 7 Comments
I am sitting in a comfortable reclining chair with my feet up, my eyes closed, and soft music playing in the background. It has been about ten or fifteen minutes I am guessing. I am not asleep but I am very aware of how relaxed my body has become. I am sleepy and calm. I feel no tension. The headache that has plagued me for days has disappeared. I am not in a spa or on a beach. I am at my acupuncture appointment.

Earlier this year, I wrote a blog entry entitled Acupuncture Part One: The Experience in which I discuss my first ever experience with acupuncture. It has been almost six months since that entry, which was written about two months after my very first experience with acupuncture. All this time later, I am still amazed at the various benefits I have reaped from this form of Chinese medicine. The way my acupuncturist Ben, from The People’s Acupuncture Clinic, explains it is that in Western medicine (what we know as conventional health care here in the United States) it is the patient’s symptoms that are treated. In Chinese medicine, it is the entire body that is treated. That makes sense to me. When I go to the doctor complaining of difficulty breathing due to asthma, I am given an inhaler to reduce inflammation and open up my lungs. When I go to the acupuncturist, I have needles inserted and/or am given herbs which although may be targeted for these particular symptoms, also restore balance to my qi. The end result is that after several sessions or sometimes after even just one session, my body goes back to a balanced state. Instead of treating just the symptoms, we are treating the cause (the body’s imbalance) therefore overall restoring health.

My original purpose for starting acupuncture treatments was to help deal with symptoms related to an autoimmune disorder. Although my symptom list at that time was more extensive than most people’s grocery list, my primary focus was on alleviating the joint pain, fatigue, and difficulty breathing related to my autoimmune disorder. I knew from what Ben told me and what I had read online that even though positive effects from acupuncture can occur as soon as after the first treatment, it would probably take a bit longer for me, as many as twelve to fourteen sessions. I really wanted more symptom control and was interested in avoiding as many steroids and other autoimmune drugs as possible so I was committed to the long haul. I didn’t get sick overnight and I knew it might take some patience to get myself well.

It did work too. I started off by doing sessions almost every other day for the first ten-fourteen days, then to twice a week, and eventually to a point where I go every two weeks unless there is an acute issue. As a somewhat skeptical Western medicine health care professional myself, I was quite surprised at the results. My joint pain which I had been managing with heavy duty autoimmune drugs was improved with taking Motrin and not all that frequently even. I did still have some difficult days but found that between the acupuncture and other non-medication pain management techniques, I could get through those tough days. I was sleeping better and having an easier time of handling the autoimmune related fatigue that could cripple me for most of the afternoon. After we added some prescribed Chinese herbs to my acupuncture sessions, I had much better control over my asthma symptoms. I went from being on oral steroids, a steroid inhaler, and a frequently used rescue inhaler to just a smaller dose of the steroid inhaler and a very occasional use of my rescue inhaler. I even started singing in my church choir, something I had always wanted to do!

There was also other autoimmune symptoms that improved, some autoimmune related, some not, and some where it was anybody’s best guess. Middle back pain that had plagued me on and off (mostly on!) for over a year finally went away. Some of my dryness symptoms related to the autoimmune disorder, called Sjogren’s Syndrome, got better. Other issues such as seasonal allergies, sinus inflammation/infections, and an injured knee improved or even disappeared. It has gotten to the point where if I have a medical issue, I typically will actually meet with my acupuncturist first before seeking medical attention from a western medical doctor because over and over again, I see positive results without unnecessary medications, tests, and such. My biggest success was managing to stay off the steroid prednisone for almost six months after I started acupuncture treatments. Prior to that, I was on it on at least ten separate occasions, lasting anywhere from days to months, within a time span of approximately two years. I think it is important to state that I am not implying here though if I thought I was having a heart attack that I would go to my acupuncturist before heading to an emergency room. I strongly believe that there is a place, in my life at least, for some Western medicine. However, I am making a concentrated effort to reserve Western medicine for emergency type situations only, as much as I possibly can.

I have also experienced many benefits from acupuncture that do not have to do only with physical symptoms. My loved ones as well as I have noticed a significant difference in my stress level and how I cope with everyday issues, as well as crises. Now, I have also had other positive lifestyle changes which could contribute to this and I have not done an actual research analysis on myself. However since I started my treatments last November, I am much slower to anger. Things that used to frustrate the living hell out of me are no longer such a big deal. Anxiety over tests and procedures has dropped dramatically and I am much more flexible in my interactions with other people. I know some of this, if not most of it, is related to the acupuncture sessions because I can physically feel my body relax about ten minutes or so into my treatment. I have gone to sessions immediately after attending a friend’s funeral or during other stressful times to find myself leaving the building in a better frame of mind and with clearer thinking. I don’t need research studies to prove that!

Finally, the last benefit I would like to mention is that which is gained from working with a Chinese medicine practitioner. Ben is the only one I have ever seen so I don’t have a basis for comparison. That being said, I do have a basis of comparison with western medicine practitioners. In all fairness, I have had a few really great doctors in my lifetime. I have worked with some fantastic doctors as well. However the last few years have been like a three ring circus for me in dealing with doctors. Oftentimes I am just a person taking up a ten minute slot in their exam room. I have been treated like a number with no regards to the emotional or mental impact that my illness has had on my wellbeing. Of the twenty-five or so doctors and specialists I have dealt with in the past two and a half years, not one has ever discussed the role of nutrition with me in regards to my autoimmune disorder. More often than not, I am looked at as a compilation of various anatomical systems and symptoms rather than as a whole person.
 
 
 
In my acupuncture clinic, I am treated holistically and with compassion. Despite the fact that it is a clinic and I may be one of seven or eight other people in the room, I never feel rushed or disrespected. I am taken seriously and just as important, I am heard. It is truly a collaboration between patient and practitioner. The success of my treatments depends on my ability to communicate what is going on with my body and Ben’s ability to translate that in order to provide the best treatment. For me, that is truly the ideal environment for optimal healing and optimal health.
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