The emotional and physical toll of illness cannot easily be understood by those who have not had a similar experience. This is the rationale that I prefer to attribute to my doctor's inability to understand what I am going through.
The Depths of Illness is a new series in this blog that will attempt to relate the deep interference that particular symptoms can have on one's life. More to come...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Bridge to Alternative Medicine
In December, 2009, I asked my new doctor for help with my long-term health issues. He agreed. He asked for time to review my entire medical history. I agreed and scheduled a follow-up in January. My follow-up appointment came. I filled in holes in the medical history with anecdotal stories.
I had been hiking the Appalachian Trail in 2005 when my illness began. My abdomen started to hurt in North Carolina. I stopped in Franklin, NC. I ate a pizza. I threw up. I continued hiking. My feet began to ache. My shoulders started to ache. It was nothing unusual for long-distance hiking, I thought. I reached Damascus and rested for two days. It did not help. I hiked on. I reached the Virginia Highlands. I took pictures of wild ponies. I took an afternoon nap. It did not help. I had a fever. I went to bed early. One night, in the middle of the night, I woke up in a sweat, nauseated, and having to use the toilet. I scrambled to get my shoes on, grab my headlamp, and run out of the shelter. Within fifteen feet of the shelter, I crashed to the ground, landing in a pile of rocks beside a bush. After a minute, my head cleared. I stood and stumbled through the darkness. Dizziness came. Darkness came. I crashed to the ground. The stars came through the darkness. They were spinning. They stopped. I stood. I walked on. The toilet was on top of a platform. There were no walls. The wind blew. I began to shiver. I began to freeze. I stumbled back to the shelter. I woke up the next morning unable to eat. I hiked fifteen miles to the nearest road, rested for two days, and continued hiking. Another week in the woods. Another hundred miles. More dizziness. More fever. New aches and pains. I stopped in Pearisburg, Virginia. I called my parents. They drove down from Gettysburg the next day. They took me home. I rested. I did not get better.
My doctor listened patiently to my stories, to the beginning of my symptoms. When I was done, I told him about a few new symptoms - a bitter taste in my mouth, sharper abdomen pain. He nodded. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. Everyone has different filters, he began. I nodded. I wondered where he was going. Multitudes of illnesses known to man manifest themselves in a small number of symptoms, he continued. He said my symptoms were not consistent with illnesses that were known. He said that my filter was too sensitive. He said that I was complaining of too many symptoms. He said that I needed to learn to ignore most, if not all of my symptoms. He said that my tests showed that I was normal, that my symptoms were a normal part of growing older.
I was baffled. My doctor was telling me that my lack of energy after work, my abdomen pains, my inability to focus, my headaches, my tonsil stones, the bitter taste in my mouth, my brain fog, my frequent urination, and all the rest of my symptoms were all a natural part of growing old. He was telling me that my five years of illness were not real. He was telling me that I was too sensitive to pain. He didn't understand the depths of my illness, the depression, the struggles with brain fog, the muscle pain, the fatigue. I was infuriated. I left. I stopped believing that western medicine could and would eventually find a diagnosis for my ailment.
I had been hiking the Appalachian Trail in 2005 when my illness began. My abdomen started to hurt in North Carolina. I stopped in Franklin, NC. I ate a pizza. I threw up. I continued hiking. My feet began to ache. My shoulders started to ache. It was nothing unusual for long-distance hiking, I thought. I reached Damascus and rested for two days. It did not help. I hiked on. I reached the Virginia Highlands. I took pictures of wild ponies. I took an afternoon nap. It did not help. I had a fever. I went to bed early. One night, in the middle of the night, I woke up in a sweat, nauseated, and having to use the toilet. I scrambled to get my shoes on, grab my headlamp, and run out of the shelter. Within fifteen feet of the shelter, I crashed to the ground, landing in a pile of rocks beside a bush. After a minute, my head cleared. I stood and stumbled through the darkness. Dizziness came. Darkness came. I crashed to the ground. The stars came through the darkness. They were spinning. They stopped. I stood. I walked on. The toilet was on top of a platform. There were no walls. The wind blew. I began to shiver. I began to freeze. I stumbled back to the shelter. I woke up the next morning unable to eat. I hiked fifteen miles to the nearest road, rested for two days, and continued hiking. Another week in the woods. Another hundred miles. More dizziness. More fever. New aches and pains. I stopped in Pearisburg, Virginia. I called my parents. They drove down from Gettysburg the next day. They took me home. I rested. I did not get better.
My doctor listened patiently to my stories, to the beginning of my symptoms. When I was done, I told him about a few new symptoms - a bitter taste in my mouth, sharper abdomen pain. He nodded. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. Everyone has different filters, he began. I nodded. I wondered where he was going. Multitudes of illnesses known to man manifest themselves in a small number of symptoms, he continued. He said my symptoms were not consistent with illnesses that were known. He said that my filter was too sensitive. He said that I was complaining of too many symptoms. He said that I needed to learn to ignore most, if not all of my symptoms. He said that my tests showed that I was normal, that my symptoms were a normal part of growing older.
I was baffled. My doctor was telling me that my lack of energy after work, my abdomen pains, my inability to focus, my headaches, my tonsil stones, the bitter taste in my mouth, my brain fog, my frequent urination, and all the rest of my symptoms were all a natural part of growing old. He was telling me that my five years of illness were not real. He was telling me that I was too sensitive to pain. He didn't understand the depths of my illness, the depression, the struggles with brain fog, the muscle pain, the fatigue. I was infuriated. I left. I stopped believing that western medicine could and would eventually find a diagnosis for my ailment.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Definitions
For the sake of simplicity...
Western medicine - scientifically proven medicine.
Alternative medicine - medicine that is not scientifically proven.
Western medicine - scientifically proven medicine.
Alternative medicine - medicine that is not scientifically proven.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Limitations of Western Medicine
Tests that I've had: Abdominal CT Scan with contrast, Abdominal CT Scan without Contrast, Pelvic CT Scan with contrast, Pelvic CT Scan without contrast, Abdominal MRI with contrast, Abdominal MRI without contrast, Pelvic MRI with contrast, Pelvic MRI without contrast, Prostate Exam, neurological exams, blood tests, stool tests, urine tests.
Things I've been tested for: Lyme Disease, Diabetes, Celiac Disease, Food Allergies, HIV, RPR, Chlamydia, EB virus, Typhus, RMSF, West Nile Virus, Ehrlichia, rare bacterias, Giardia, Cryptosporidium, and more.
Drugs I've taken: Ciproflaxen, Metronidazole, Levaquin, Flagyl, Zithromax, and Doxycycline.
All of this could not cure me. While I do believe that western medicine is one of the greatest tools in diagnosing and curing ailments, it is not without limitations. A few of these limitations include but are not limited to (1) Diagnostic tests can have false positives and false negatives, (2) All ailments are not defined, (3) Treatments have not been developed or proven for numerous ailments, (4) Existing treatments are not 100% effective, (5) Some treatments cause more problems than they solve, and (6) The economics of diagnosis and treatment is sometimes prohibitive.
My diagnosis and treatment was not limited by economics; nor was it limited by physician resources; it was limited by knowledge. My father ran out of illnesses to test for and specialists to consult. All medical tests that I've had been subjected to over the past couple years have pronounced me a normal, healthy 30-year-old male. It took years for me to contemplate and rationalize why western medicine pronounced me healthy when I was anything but. In an attempt to help shorten that time frame for others who are suffering, I have started a new series in this blog titled The Limitations of Western Medicine, which will expand on particular reasons why western medicine fails.
Things I've been tested for: Lyme Disease, Diabetes, Celiac Disease, Food Allergies, HIV, RPR, Chlamydia, EB virus, Typhus, RMSF, West Nile Virus, Ehrlichia, rare bacterias, Giardia, Cryptosporidium, and more.
Drugs I've taken: Ciproflaxen, Metronidazole, Levaquin, Flagyl, Zithromax, and Doxycycline.
All of this could not cure me. While I do believe that western medicine is one of the greatest tools in diagnosing and curing ailments, it is not without limitations. A few of these limitations include but are not limited to (1) Diagnostic tests can have false positives and false negatives, (2) All ailments are not defined, (3) Treatments have not been developed or proven for numerous ailments, (4) Existing treatments are not 100% effective, (5) Some treatments cause more problems than they solve, and (6) The economics of diagnosis and treatment is sometimes prohibitive.
My diagnosis and treatment was not limited by economics; nor was it limited by physician resources; it was limited by knowledge. My father ran out of illnesses to test for and specialists to consult. All medical tests that I've had been subjected to over the past couple years have pronounced me a normal, healthy 30-year-old male. It took years for me to contemplate and rationalize why western medicine pronounced me healthy when I was anything but. In an attempt to help shorten that time frame for others who are suffering, I have started a new series in this blog titled The Limitations of Western Medicine, which will expand on particular reasons why western medicine fails.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Disclaimer
Before I get too far into this blog, I'd like to say that I began my "alternative road to health" experiments in early January 2010. I didn't think to write a blog until a friend suggested that there may be others who may connect with my struggles with health and the hope of a better tomorrow. So it was in mid February that I began this blog (helped by my journals).
The disclaimer: blog entries will trail my actual experiences by at least a month.
The disclaimer: blog entries will trail my actual experiences by at least a month.
Monday, February 8, 2010
New Year's Eve
My head injury occurred on October 25. Typically, concussions take between 4-6 weeks to clear up. A small percentage linger on for longer, sometimes indefinitely. At Christmas, my concussion was not better. I was tired of feeling ill.
My parents treated my wife and I to a big band concert at the Majestic Theater in downtown Gettysburg. The music was decent. I felt like dancing. My wife and I braved the dance floor at the beginning of the second set. Within seconds, my mouth fell dry. We continued to dance. At the end of the song, I could barely breath. We sat down. I could barely contain the cough of a dry throat that water could not quench. My head hurt. My heart beat thumped at the top of my neck, where spine meets skull. I barely heard another note of music for the rest of the evening. That evening I had a revelation. My concussion was also a neck injury. When in New Zealand, I would wake up, my neck on fire. Back in the states, I couldn't move my neck without pain while driving. A neck injury was the only thing that made sense.
I went back to my doctor. He said that I most likely had a neck injury. I should move and strengthen my neck to fix a neck injury. I started to do yoga at home. I also went to see a new doctor, an Osteopath. After ten minutes, my new doctor confirmed that I had two strained vertebrae. Our conversation wandered. We talked about my long-term issues - food intolerance, abdominal pains, fatigue, and everything else that I had been going through. He suggested acupuncture. I wasn't sold. But I did begin to think about alternative means to health.
My parents treated my wife and I to a big band concert at the Majestic Theater in downtown Gettysburg. The music was decent. I felt like dancing. My wife and I braved the dance floor at the beginning of the second set. Within seconds, my mouth fell dry. We continued to dance. At the end of the song, I could barely breath. We sat down. I could barely contain the cough of a dry throat that water could not quench. My head hurt. My heart beat thumped at the top of my neck, where spine meets skull. I barely heard another note of music for the rest of the evening. That evening I had a revelation. My concussion was also a neck injury. When in New Zealand, I would wake up, my neck on fire. Back in the states, I couldn't move my neck without pain while driving. A neck injury was the only thing that made sense.
I went back to my doctor. He said that I most likely had a neck injury. I should move and strengthen my neck to fix a neck injury. I started to do yoga at home. I also went to see a new doctor, an Osteopath. After ten minutes, my new doctor confirmed that I had two strained vertebrae. Our conversation wandered. We talked about my long-term issues - food intolerance, abdominal pains, fatigue, and everything else that I had been going through. He suggested acupuncture. I wasn't sold. But I did begin to think about alternative means to health.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Phantom Illness
I had been ill for nearly five years. With what I do not know. My symptoms, many. Confirmed diagnosis, none. It's not for lack of trying. My father is a physician, one of the best in the world in my opinion. When I fell ill in 2005, I received the best medical treatment available. I had blood and other tests galore. I was referred to some of the best specialists around. At long last, I was clinically diagnosed with Lyme's Disease and Giardia. Just to be clear, a clinical diagnosis is not one that is confirmed by blood or other testing; it is a one based on the best available data, which in my case was circumstances plus symptoms.
The Circumstances: Long-distance hiking on the Appalachian Trail, multiple deer tick bites, symptoms consistent with Lyme's Disease.
The Symptoms: Brain fog, fatigue, achy joints, frequent urination, muscle twitches, abdomen pain, insatiable thirst, blurred vision, depression, muscle tightness, aching teeth, tonsil stones, sun sensitivity, night sweats, chills, uncontrollable hiccups, stomach aches, bloating.
But after a few months and multiple courses of drugs, I was still ill. A new potential diagnosis - Post Lyme's Disease Syndrome. Untreatable. Another potential diagnosis - Celiac Disease. The treatment - stop eating wheat. I stopped eating wheat. There was some improvement. I stopped eating dairy. A bit more improvement. I stopped eating most of everything else. A bit more improvement. But not total improvement. I was still unable to function like a normal human being. My energy levels remained low. It was almost impossible for me to make it through an entire day without needing a nap. I didn't have enough energy to socialize or do anything after more active than lay on the couch after work. My abdomen hurt. My thirst was not quenched. Tonsil stones were still present. I was not better.
Then, life became more difficult. My wife and I went on vacation to New Zealand. Two days in, I got a virus, passed out on my way to the bathroom, and slammed my head on a table on my way to the ground, sustaining a concussion. I was now unable to walk more than a half mile without getting a headache and nausea. I was fatigued. I was unable to focus without getting a migraine. Work was nearly unbearable. My back ached constantly. Then, a new issue - my stomach started to hurt. I loathed food, and yet I ate more. I went to see my doctor. I told him all of my ills. He asked minimal questions. He tested nothing. He offered no suggestions for therapy or treatment. He only asked me to come back in a few weeks for a check-up. I felt abandoned.
My thirtieth birthday came. I spent it in a dark room on the floor. I had eaten too much for breakfast. I felt greasy and bloated; I didn't want to eat; I was hungry and full; my body was conflicted.
My disgust with on that day led to an unusual decision. I decided to do a 72-hour water fast. Nothing to eat but water. That night, after an uncomfortable dinner, I started. The next day, I stopped. My day had been good until sometime after lunch, when a headache kicked in and stayed and got worse. I had dinner. I felt worse. I began my fast again. This time, I had a significant amount of energy on the first night of my fast and was not tempted to eat. But on the second night my headache returned. But feeling that I had accomplished what I set out to do (cure my stomach pains), I returned to food that night, first liquids (some chicken broth and apple juice), then raw foods (a piece of celery). As hoped, my stomach pains were gone. My energy level skyrocketed for a few days. And for the first time in nearly five years, I gained a glimmer of hope for future health.
The Circumstances: Long-distance hiking on the Appalachian Trail, multiple deer tick bites, symptoms consistent with Lyme's Disease.
The Symptoms: Brain fog, fatigue, achy joints, frequent urination, muscle twitches, abdomen pain, insatiable thirst, blurred vision, depression, muscle tightness, aching teeth, tonsil stones, sun sensitivity, night sweats, chills, uncontrollable hiccups, stomach aches, bloating.
But after a few months and multiple courses of drugs, I was still ill. A new potential diagnosis - Post Lyme's Disease Syndrome. Untreatable. Another potential diagnosis - Celiac Disease. The treatment - stop eating wheat. I stopped eating wheat. There was some improvement. I stopped eating dairy. A bit more improvement. I stopped eating most of everything else. A bit more improvement. But not total improvement. I was still unable to function like a normal human being. My energy levels remained low. It was almost impossible for me to make it through an entire day without needing a nap. I didn't have enough energy to socialize or do anything after more active than lay on the couch after work. My abdomen hurt. My thirst was not quenched. Tonsil stones were still present. I was not better.
Then, life became more difficult. My wife and I went on vacation to New Zealand. Two days in, I got a virus, passed out on my way to the bathroom, and slammed my head on a table on my way to the ground, sustaining a concussion. I was now unable to walk more than a half mile without getting a headache and nausea. I was fatigued. I was unable to focus without getting a migraine. Work was nearly unbearable. My back ached constantly. Then, a new issue - my stomach started to hurt. I loathed food, and yet I ate more. I went to see my doctor. I told him all of my ills. He asked minimal questions. He tested nothing. He offered no suggestions for therapy or treatment. He only asked me to come back in a few weeks for a check-up. I felt abandoned.
My thirtieth birthday came. I spent it in a dark room on the floor. I had eaten too much for breakfast. I felt greasy and bloated; I didn't want to eat; I was hungry and full; my body was conflicted.
My disgust with on that day led to an unusual decision. I decided to do a 72-hour water fast. Nothing to eat but water. That night, after an uncomfortable dinner, I started. The next day, I stopped. My day had been good until sometime after lunch, when a headache kicked in and stayed and got worse. I had dinner. I felt worse. I began my fast again. This time, I had a significant amount of energy on the first night of my fast and was not tempted to eat. But on the second night my headache returned. But feeling that I had accomplished what I set out to do (cure my stomach pains), I returned to food that night, first liquids (some chicken broth and apple juice), then raw foods (a piece of celery). As hoped, my stomach pains were gone. My energy level skyrocketed for a few days. And for the first time in nearly five years, I gained a glimmer of hope for future health.
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