The Hope of Functional Medicine
Since I have been diagnosed with something as serious as Multiple Sclerosis, I have never been able to shake the fear of being told that something else is wrong with me when I have a doctor's appointment. The fact that autoimmunity does not usually stop with one organ of the body plays on my mind. My own body is attacking my brain...the part of me that makes me who I am. Is there anything more insulting to the self than that?
As damaged as my brain may be, it never stops my mind from racing on doctor visit days. What if it doesn't stop there? What if it decides to go for my thyroid, my bones, my blood, my heart? What if all of the lifestyle changes that I have made really haven't changed the outcome of what my future will look like? What if there isn't redemption when it comes to my health? What if my children will need to grow up with an unhealthy, inactive mom?!
These thoughts leave me lying awake at night...on nights before I go see the doctor.
....but not when I am visiting my Doctor of Functional Medicine.
Yesterday, I took a day off of work to go see my Doctor of Functional Medicine. If I couldn't sleep, it was because I was excited. It always starts out the same. He comes out to greet me with a smile and a hug. A hug! There is no nurse coming out to summon me, weigh me, take my vitals, ask me questions about my health and how I have been feeling....HE comes out and greets ME with a hug. Yes, he takes my vitals and weighs me....but not until we have sat to talk at length about how I have been feeling, how things are going in my life, how my family is doing, etc... Maybe it is because I am a counselor by trade. I connect with others for a living. I help them to come up with solutions to their problems. Maybe this is why I need a doctor to connect with me in order to convince me that I am up for this fight for my health...the fight of my life. But I cannot imagine that people who are not counselors do not feel the same way.
As I tell him about the symptoms that I am having, he comes up with solutions and ideas. He is not a magician...there to wave a magic wand and fix all of my problems. His ideas are grounded in science and testing that I have gone through...more than any of the other, more traditional doctors, that I have seen. He is certainly not there to tell me what to do. He is a partner in my fight and struggle for good health. He honors the fact that I am there to take what he teaches me and decide how I will apply it to my life. Sometimes he plants a seed...sometimes he confronts about things that need to change. Some things I will be better at doing than others. Some things, it will take me time, maybe months, to finally adjust and accept. Never eating grains again is a good example of something that took me time. When changing your lifestyle, it does not happen overnight. It does not happen in one doctor's visit. It certainly does not happen over the course of a couple weeks while you take some miracle drug....that ends up leaving you down in the end.
When I am ready to leave, I cringe about all that we have talked about....my weight, my struggles, my fears....my bowel movements. But, seriously, we talk about the hard-to-talk-about subjects...weight and poop. Now, I have seen many doctors over the years...both before MS and after the dreaded diagnosis. None of them talked about my weight or whether or not I pooped a quality poop on a regular schedule or not. Truth be told, maybe, just maybe, if a doctor had broached that uncomfortable subject with me long ago (and was knowledgeable about what a good poop should look like), maybe, just maybe, I never would have ended up in this mess in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, some of the nutritional issues would have been caught long ago...and I would be able to live my adult life still only knowing vaguely what a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis even means. If a doctor had asked me the hard questions...maybe, just maybe, my children would not need to know what a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis means.
But that was not my destiny. And that was not the destiny of my children.
So...we will make the best of it.
And that means believing in a God who has given us food to heal ourselves. It means believing in the power of prayer. It means tapping into my own strength when I fear that there is none left. It means living a life that is different from everyone else that I know and standing by it no matter how hard it gets. Because choosing to fight through functional medicine is hard. It is seriously hard work. But it is my work, which means my health is in my own hands...not some doctor who sees me, hopefully, for only a few hours a year (if that).
Fighting disease through functional medicine takes money, time, and, more than anything, commitment. It takes an incredible amount of commitment. Honestly, the amount of money that we are willing to pay, for some of us, is simply a measurement of our commitment to our health. I had to decide that my money would be spent more on health...and less on fanciness.
Fighting disease through functional medicine offers no magic wand in the form of a pill or injection. I was never into fairy tales, anyway. Functional medicine offers hope...and that is what, more than anything, I want for me and the lives of my children.
KetoRunningMama
As damaged as my brain may be, it never stops my mind from racing on doctor visit days. What if it doesn't stop there? What if it decides to go for my thyroid, my bones, my blood, my heart? What if all of the lifestyle changes that I have made really haven't changed the outcome of what my future will look like? What if there isn't redemption when it comes to my health? What if my children will need to grow up with an unhealthy, inactive mom?!
These thoughts leave me lying awake at night...on nights before I go see the doctor.
....but not when I am visiting my Doctor of Functional Medicine.
Yesterday, I took a day off of work to go see my Doctor of Functional Medicine. If I couldn't sleep, it was because I was excited. It always starts out the same. He comes out to greet me with a smile and a hug. A hug! There is no nurse coming out to summon me, weigh me, take my vitals, ask me questions about my health and how I have been feeling....HE comes out and greets ME with a hug. Yes, he takes my vitals and weighs me....but not until we have sat to talk at length about how I have been feeling, how things are going in my life, how my family is doing, etc... Maybe it is because I am a counselor by trade. I connect with others for a living. I help them to come up with solutions to their problems. Maybe this is why I need a doctor to connect with me in order to convince me that I am up for this fight for my health...the fight of my life. But I cannot imagine that people who are not counselors do not feel the same way.
As I tell him about the symptoms that I am having, he comes up with solutions and ideas. He is not a magician...there to wave a magic wand and fix all of my problems. His ideas are grounded in science and testing that I have gone through...more than any of the other, more traditional doctors, that I have seen. He is certainly not there to tell me what to do. He is a partner in my fight and struggle for good health. He honors the fact that I am there to take what he teaches me and decide how I will apply it to my life. Sometimes he plants a seed...sometimes he confronts about things that need to change. Some things I will be better at doing than others. Some things, it will take me time, maybe months, to finally adjust and accept. Never eating grains again is a good example of something that took me time. When changing your lifestyle, it does not happen overnight. It does not happen in one doctor's visit. It certainly does not happen over the course of a couple weeks while you take some miracle drug....that ends up leaving you down in the end.
When I am ready to leave, I cringe about all that we have talked about....my weight, my struggles, my fears....my bowel movements. But, seriously, we talk about the hard-to-talk-about subjects...weight and poop. Now, I have seen many doctors over the years...both before MS and after the dreaded diagnosis. None of them talked about my weight or whether or not I pooped a quality poop on a regular schedule or not. Truth be told, maybe, just maybe, if a doctor had broached that uncomfortable subject with me long ago (and was knowledgeable about what a good poop should look like), maybe, just maybe, I never would have ended up in this mess in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, some of the nutritional issues would have been caught long ago...and I would be able to live my adult life still only knowing vaguely what a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis even means. If a doctor had asked me the hard questions...maybe, just maybe, my children would not need to know what a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis means.
But that was not my destiny. And that was not the destiny of my children.
So...we will make the best of it.
And that means believing in a God who has given us food to heal ourselves. It means believing in the power of prayer. It means tapping into my own strength when I fear that there is none left. It means living a life that is different from everyone else that I know and standing by it no matter how hard it gets. Because choosing to fight through functional medicine is hard. It is seriously hard work. But it is my work, which means my health is in my own hands...not some doctor who sees me, hopefully, for only a few hours a year (if that).
Fighting disease through functional medicine takes money, time, and, more than anything, commitment. It takes an incredible amount of commitment. Honestly, the amount of money that we are willing to pay, for some of us, is simply a measurement of our commitment to our health. I had to decide that my money would be spent more on health...and less on fanciness.
Fighting disease through functional medicine offers no magic wand in the form of a pill or injection. I was never into fairy tales, anyway. Functional medicine offers hope...and that is what, more than anything, I want for me and the lives of my children.
KetoRunningMama
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