Doctors Vs. Health
I’ve had a lot of exciting and wonderful things happen this week, and the worst part of it was that I couldn’t enjoy it as I wanted to because the body went into protest. I don’t often talk about my physical/health issues, and I quit going to doctors about ten years ago because they were only making them worse.
I used to, like many of us, think doctors had all the answers. I expected what they show on TV with the doctor being the hero, diagnosing and curing right away, but I have found that doctors rarely cure, mostly treat symptoms, and generally aren’t a big fan of questions or information that counters their schooling (designed and paid mostly by pharmaceutical companies).
Recently a relative said something along the lines of - “You’re sick again??” And although it hurt my feelings, I recognize that I am not as sick as many who have suffered through my health traumas. Back in my 20s and 30s I listened to all the doctors, I took the pills they gave me without question. If they said I needed surgery, well then I had the surgery. I believed, almost a religious belief, their education meant they knew my body better than I did.
I’ve had some strange experiences listening to their guidance and trusting. I went a little crazy when the experts had me on three anti-depressants, one because my son died, and two others to help me sleep. They were the experts, although it was my body and mind being manipulated.
Listening to doctors, I had several unneeded surgeries, one of which landed me on my back for months with open wounds, a mistake in the reconnection of bowel left me with peritonitis and sepsis, and I nearly died, did die, was brought back, and nearly died again. I had transfusions, and infections, and near death experiences. I have scars that make both doctors and tattoo artists cringe.
I’ve given up all faith of the perfect drug that will cure, and have decided to get most of the chemicals out of my life. I do all right if I pace myself, don’t overbook, and don’t give myself too much social interaction. I do all right if I can breathe deeply and relax. I do all right if I eat clean food, and cook for myself. I do all right if I clean with baking soda and vinegar and throw all the chemicals away.
So for those “you’re sick again??” folks, I am a small handful of people who have had shit bags glued to their belly, have met and dealt with their intestine sticking out of their belly, that hasn’t had another surgical episode in nearly 15 years. I am a small percent of people who have survived peritonitis and sepsis, and although the biggest part of my immune system - my belly and bowel - was ravaged by drugs, surgery, radiation, and radio active chemicals for months on end I’m still here and getting by, and often quite active.
And by the way, I’m not sick again - I am still recovering from a tragic accident (and trust of doctors), which left me with nearly half of what some know as a digestive system.
As usual, keeping seeking and questioning.