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The Naive Patient

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The Naive Patient
By Jody Smith


About 10 years ago I began looking online for information and answers about my mystery illness. At that time, my sleeping and waking hours were upside down. I would sleep most of the day and be up throughout the night till dawn. I spent many disturbing hours online looking for answers.

Back then, most of what I could find was pessimistic at best, terrifying at worst. Implications of heart disease and brain damage, irreversible hormonal disruption, malfunctions of the heretofore unheard of hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, and plenty more that I could not translate into language I could understand.

Confusion and growing despair

Most of what I found was written in such complex medical jargon that I couldn't tell what I was reading. I suspected that there might have been answers if only I could comprehend what I was reading.

But with no background in science or medicine, no knowledge of most of the terminology, and passing all this falteringly through a riddled ME/CFS brain, I would end up so exhausted and so depressed that stumbling off to bed was the only recourse for temporary relief.

Perhaps the only exception to the jumble of facts and conjecture came on the site of Phoenix Rising, written by Cort Johnson, with his smiling face on each article. His online presence was reassuring, but unfortunately he could not tell me what was wrong with me or what to do about it.

I continued plowing through all the material I could find for some months despite the heaviness this search burdened my already taxed mind, body and emotions with. Eventually I decided to give up a seemingly lost cause, as I reached a conclusion which I now realize to have been spectacularly naive.
I remember at one point laughing at myself, saying to my mother, "Who do I think I am, Sherlock Holmes? What makes me think I am going to come up with answers? I have no background or training. I don't know what I'm looking for. I mean, if there is an answer out there, my doctor will be the one to tell me."

My mom didn't know anymore about it than I did, and so she agreed that asking my doctor would indeed make sense.

Innocence waiting to be crushed

I had great faith in my family doctor back then. I hung on to this trust stubbornly, in the face of growing indications that he was not there for me.

We'd had a congenial relationship for about a decade before I got sick. He was in the avant garde of young doctors I thought, when our relationship first began. I didn't go to his office very often in the years before I became this ill, but I was always comfortable with him. I felt like he was on my side.

All that changed with ME/CFS. It was a gradual change, so gradual that at first I thought I was imagining things ... being too sensitive, too paranoid. But eventually there was no denying the complete reversal that had taken place.

Seven years ago, I came to see him, thinking I was having a stroke. He smirked and told me I wasn't. Then he took my blood pressure which was dangerously high, uncharacteristic of me, and the smirk disappeared. He sent me to the hospital for tests immediately.

He sent me for some blood tests and some other tests, which I'll give him points for, but when they all came back "normal" he had no suggestions. I guess I was lucky that if I asked for a referral to this specialist or that one, he always sent me.

But he made it clear that he knew nothing about this mystery condition, or where I might find possible treatment; and he was not going to try to learn about it. He was not going to help me.

He asked me one day if there were any things that helped my symptoms. I told him about the only thing that at that time made any difference. I said, "Going to bed."

He said, "Well, do that then."

I did not say, but felt this reaction strongly — "I am not going to spend the rest of my life in bed!"

My passion reaction, of course, had no basis in reality at that time. Every indication was that I would indeed spend the rest of my life in bed. The fact that my doctor was perfectly fine with that really stuck in my craw.

Some good treatment but it was a very mixed bag

The neurologists and the ophthalmologist that I asked for referrals to, treated me well. Though all they could do was perform tests whose results showed that I was right as rain.

One neurologist really touched me when he said that he wanted me to understand that just because he couldn't find anything did not necessarily mean that nothing was wrong. He said that this often happened, because the study of the brain was a relatively new science and they didn't know enough about it yet.

He also offered the interesting reassurance that the fact that since this thing was already of a long duration, it was probably not going to kill me, because if it were going to it probably would have by now.

I was actually comforted by this statement. And comforted by this response from one human being to another, so different from what I'd become used to from my own doctor.

I made an appointment with my family doctor after I'd gotten a letter requiring my participation in jury duty. I was completely crashed at that time.

Just going to my GP was enough to leave me wrung out and bedridden for days afterwards. It would have been impossible for me to drive the hour into the city and sit in a court room all day, even once. Who knew what kind of self-destruction would be awaiting me if I tried?

I took the letter in to my doctor, to get his official endorsement that I be released from this Herculean task.

This man who I thought knew me, knew the kind of person I was, knew the ordeal I was grappling with, looked at me with an unfriendly stare, and said, "And what possible reason is there that you can't do jury duty?"

I stared back. I said, "Well, for starters, I can't stay out of bed all day!"

Silence. I could see him back down a little. Saw the aggressive attitude ease just a bit. Saw his mind register — "Oh, right. This is her."

No apology for being rude. He did explain himself a bit, saying he'd had a number of relatively able-bodied people that morning waving similar letters, trying to shirk their duty. Like he had just implied I was doing.

This, incidentally, is when I got my "official" diagnosis of ME/CFS. Not because he'd been intensively doing the work, but because he had to write something on the form about jury duty, he had to name my condition. I suggested ME/CFS and he wrote it down.

After our tete-a-tete about jury duty, I never went to see him again. And when he retired a few years later, I was grimly delighted to hear he was gone, and this meant I could see the new doctor who would be taking his place.

I have been in once to meet the new guy, and he seemed like he was alright. He did not scoff, and he was honest about the fact that he didn't know if he could help me. He was also glad - perhaps relieved - to hear that I was seeing a naturopath who had been helping me to make progress.

My old doctor had been quite put out that I had been seeing a naturopath, and said in a sulky tone that "they use drugs too you know."

I didn't bother engaging with him about this, I no longer cared what he thought. I just took a deep breath, put a smile on my face and said, "She has been making me better."

Surprisingly he looked a bit abashed at that, and said, "Well ... we don't know everything."

I thought but did not say, "You're not kidding!"

For the most part, I have turned my back on conventional medicine. If I were to be in an accident or need surgery or some other urgent intervention, I'd go to a GP. But my experience over the last decade and then some has been that for anything chronic, I would be wasting my time.

What has your experience been with the conventional medical community?


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I Googled why are doctors jerks and found some interesting
articles. One by a doctor caught my attention. He suggested
we thank our doctors for taking care of us. That really
opened my eyes as far as how I looked at the doctor
patient relationship. I had been looking at this completely
from a job angle, not human interaction. I thanked
my doctor yesterday. : )

fwiw, the more I learn about our bodies and
how different we are, I appreciate how complicated
working in health care must be.

I'm a bit puzzled. Maybe it's a national thing, but I always thank service providers, shop assistants, etc., when they provide a service, unless they have already started serving someone else.

What do you say when you leave the doctor's office (which we call a surgery in the UK, rather irrationally, I think!)? Just 'goodbye'?
 
lol. MeSci

I see you're a very literal person and I can appreciate
where you're coming from. I used to write tech info
as part of my programmer analyst job. Every letter
had to be exact. I look at
what everyone writes on a message board as informal
communication. Imho, that's a big part of what makes interacting
interesting.

I do normally thank my doctors, etc etc etc. I was just keeping
my post short since I'm using one finger and saw
no need to elaborate.

I thought the doctors point of view was interesting.
I've been looking for more positive comments by
healthcare professionals to try to understand their
perspectives on how they do their jobs. I learned it's
not a job.

tc ... x
 
im moderate affected. i can put my self in shape to work with people hour, two and sometimes more. my friends dont understand, some are even doctors(13 bloody years i have cfs) but when get back home i have wife that understand. only thing i regret is i cant take her out to see the world. made the money meanwhile but still dont have strength. i still consider my self lucky. my message is: dont forget to live because u aint gonna get rid of this shit. u will have better or worst days but that's it.
 
Unable to type or do much last week with my broken arm in plaster, I stayed off the computer 99% and you would not believe how well I slept for 3-4 nights. Even my high blood sugar with my recently diagnosed Diabetes II was almost normal (despite poor diet & little exercise over the winter months with flu & then an ongoing ankle prob).

Hi Victoria, so nice to see your post here; it's been a while! --- I purchased an "Earthing Pad" for about $50-$60 or so, and have found it invaluable in keeping me from burning out so badly on the computer. Helped the burnout by as much as 90%.

Take care! :thumbsup:

Wayne
 
Hi Victoria, so nice to see your post here; it's been a while! --- I purchased an "Earthing Pad" for about $50-$60 or so, and have found it invaluable in keeping me from burning out so badly on the computer. Helped the burnout by as much as 90%.

Take care! :thumbsup:

Wayne

Hi Wayne,

I remember you getting one of these awhile back. I was interested too, but the place I lived in had NO grounded outlets…not one! :) But I moved since then, so now I can reconsider one, if I can round up the pennies.

Anyway, I was wondering if you could describe the 'burning out' in a little more detail? Would being on the computer tense you up, increase stress levels, etc.? Or something different?

Also, do you know if it makes a difference if one is using a flat screen (I have a used Mac), or one of the older PC-monitor type computers?

Thanks Wayne!

Dan
 
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All power outlets are three plug outlets in Australia, with grounding. I have seen this in at least two other countries as well. Two plug outlets went out with the arc in most of the world.
 
I was wondering if you could describe the 'burning out' in a little more detail? Would being on the computer tense you up, increase stress levels, etc.? Or something different? ......... do you know if it makes a difference if one is using a flat screen (I have a used Mac), or one of the older PC-monitor type computers?

Hey Dan,

Prior to getting an earthing pad, I would often start feeling my energy draining within seconds of getting on the computer. If I was having a better day, I wouldn't notice it quite so quickly. On bad days, I would feel quite nauseous and it would literally feel like a vacuum cleaner sucking the energy out of my solar plexus area. Headaches were another common problem, flaring up within minutes of getting on the computer. Again, this depended on what kind of day I was having.

On days where I was doing better and did more, I could easily end up with a computer related PEM, or hangover as I would refer to it (spacey and disconnected). Part of it was likely a part of mental PEM, but the computer hangover was definitely identifiable. I experience similar things when driving from some intense EMFs coming off of the dashboard. I want to learn how to ground myself while driving, as my driveable distances have dwindled down to about 20-30 minutes or so.

I ran across a video once on how to ground a vehicle, but haven't been able to find it. If you run across anything like this as you do your own research, please let me know. --- Thanks. :)

Wayne
 
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@Wayne -- thanks for your speedy reply -- I appreciate it, and of course always good to hear from you.

I was doing a little reading (or probably too much reading) on the subject this afternoon, and am not sure what to think, as it seems like we're being bombarded my increasing levels of EMF's from everywhere -- especially 'smart meters' (?), and the increasing numbers of cell phone towers. There was a site I saw earlier where you could find the number of towers in your area (within a 4 mile radius) and there were over 340 in my 'hood'.Kind of overwhelming, but I suppose there could be a dozen other reasons I've been doing worse since moving here. Nevertheless, I appreciate your input, and will consider a small mat, and maybe some bands…but am trying to find a cheap voltmeter (a guy mentions a radio shack model for $20 on amazon) but I haven't found it yet.Gotta get off the 'puter for now! :)
 
When I was worse than I am now, but had emerged from the very worst stage and could again tolerate a computer - and [shiver :eek: ] forum interactions - I found them preferable/more tolerable than face-to-face conversations or even telephone calls: which I found to be very demanding and very draining.

I still think that personal interactions of that nature - quick-fire thinking etc. - are the most draining and demanding. Of course now it is all about balance - though I guess it always was really, but in different ways.

There does come a point - reached sooner for some than for others perhaps - where the stimulation (whatever the source and with varying (I think) predictability) becomes too much and if we persevere it can indeed result in less chance of a good sleep - or even a period of relaxation and some better chance of recharging.

We are all different but all rather sensitive to stimuli in whatever form from light to heat to mental input etc.

What a very strange but beautiful bunch we all are :)
Yes! A beautiful bunch which I have sorely missed the past few years during my absence. It has been a slow motion return to internet activity for me. It is a comfort to know that others do know and try to understand what I express, whether clear or through a foggy mist. Can avoid what may upset me and pay attention to what is supportive and/or interesting. Is good to see that this PRF site is still in motion. _Susan (Creamcheese)