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Healing the Dealing
 with Medical Doctors 

In our quest for getting a diagnosis to salvage our failing health, most of us had quite a rugged journey 
as we went from 
doc to doc to doc to doc, to doc, to doc, to doc, to doc

At the best of times, going to see a medical doctor is a perturbing experience. Add to that a sick, painful body and foggy mind that must phone to make the appointment while in anxiety and no short term memory. Having to wait a few weeks before getting in while we suffer with our concerning symptoms, or, they resolve before we get there and new concerns crop up. Then there's the driving to the doc's when we are dreadfully ill, doing an average of forty-five minutes of waiting in crowded reception rooms, going into the docs examining room... Waiting ... then being granted five minutes. Leaving puzzled... unsatisfied ... sometimes very angry and then driving all the way back home again.  Now, to that whole ordeal add BRAIN FOG, slow thinking, no short term memory, maybe getting lost, and anxiety and usually dripping PAIN from all areas of our body. That's about what it was ... over and over and over again, just because we wanted to get an honest diagnosis so we could get treatment for what was ailing us and get on with our lives.

We went in expecting the doc to have all the answers, to cure us, to be some kind of savior, to be kind and considerate... We were filled with very high hopes, at first, but also with some kind of hope each time thereafter, thinking that "this time the problem would finally be identified." 

During our "granted five minutes" we stumble over our words, or couldn't express what was going on with us, couldn't focus, couldn't answer docs questions smartly, couldn't describe the bizarre symptoms, and all the while we tried to avoid sounding crazy. We were embarrassed because we didn't actually know there was a reason for our physical afflictions, maybe we didn't even mention the cognitive symptoms out of fear doc would send us to the psychiatric ward. And, of course, we looked good, and our symptoms seemed to always fade when under severe stress. We were anxious for a diagnosis, didn't want to sound like a hypochondriac. We most certainly didn't want to sound self diagnosing or even smell like we had been doing research on the web for fear of threading upon doc's ego, for fear of doc's snide remarks and insults. We threaded carefully because we felt we needed doc's expertise. But, all doc wanted to do was to get you out of the office as quickly as possible, preferably with a prescription to camouflage your symptoms. 

After we left the doc writes in our medical record... "out of it" "confused" "three more insignificant symptoms" "slurred speech" "red face" "looks healthy" "psychiatric" as we find out from our records forwarded to the next doc. ....Time after time we left disappointed because we had just wanted a diagnosis that fit what was going on with us.

Yet, we persevered. We continue to pick up our stamina's off the ground and crawl, time and time again, to get that the "doc experience" simply because we wanted a diagnosis, a cure and to get on with our lives. 

We always knew something was very wrong and we had thought once we finally got a diagnosis that a little pill would finally cure us.

And so, we dragged our sore selves to all kinds of specialists and suffered the torment of medical tests.

In time doc insinuates:  It is all in your head. You've turned into a hypochondriac. You've developed wrong mental thinking. They embarrass you, try to shame you. Lie to you and say, "There is no Lyme in this area." "It is impossible to get Lyme here."

Somewhere along in our quest to find a diagnosis our personal "doc image" is shattered. It releases our strong loyalty, our doc worship ...it gives us the power to break ourselves free of our first doc. It is our perseverance and the love of our bodies that takes us through the ordeal of finding another doc ... time and time and time again.

We are insulted, not believed, not listened to... We have silly test after difficult tests repeated, over and over again. We meet strange docs, weird docs, docs only in it for the money, pompous docs, unkind docs, verbally abusive docs and we enable them just in case this one can give us a diagnosis that fits. In time we grow emotional callouses, yet, we remained determined to find answers to our failing health.

We felt powerless, helpless, ashamed, not considered, rejected, abandoned, guilty, intimidated and feared for our future. We didn't know what was happening to our health and nobody seemed to care enough to identify what had afflicted us, and therefore no honest diagnosis.
 

Our symptoms kept getting worse.

 
While you were in search of a doc to give you a diagnosis it automatically caused you to learn things- 

- What did you learn?
How did it reshuffle your belief system?
 

- Are you a better/stronger person today because of those experiences? 
Or, did it diminish you ... made you a weaker human being?

- In your quest to get a diagnosis, did you do the very best you could with the information you possessed at that moment in time?

- Could you have done any different with the information you possessed at that time?
 

Knowing what you know now about docs, who are not Lyme literate, can you see they did the best they could with the knowledge they possessed at that moment in time? It was impossible for them to give you a clinical diagnoses as their brain did not hold what Lyme disease looks like. 

Did those docs do the best they could with the information they had in their heads at that moment in time?

Could they have done any different with the information they possessed in their heads at that time? 

Can you forgive them for the sake of honoring your mind/body health? 
Or, do you want to stuff those doc resentments into your wonderful body, to chew on your liver for the rest of your life?
 



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