Or, Diagnosis Part II
I was sitting on the red sofa in my new living room when it dawned on me: I had tried everything I knew and everything every doctor I knew, knew. I still couldn’t function and didn’t even know what was wrong with me. It was mid to late 2006 and I had moved by lying down and saying yes or no while Kari organized and packed up my townhome. My joints were getting increasingly sore, my body was bloating like crazy and by the time I was sitting on the sofa pondering my situation, my left wrist was in a brace.
I was no slouch when it came to using diet and exercise to keep myself healthy. Over the years I had become accustomed to doctors marveling at my great cholesterol numbers for example. But my medical doctor at the time, whom I’ve been calling Addison, had proven unhelpful even harmful. My naturopathic doctor “Bailey” was more sympathetic but didn’t seem to have much more to offer. The conclusion I reached that day was that new information had to come in. There was information somewhere that could help me, and I was going to find it. Continue reading