When, after more than five years with a chronic, debilitating disease, I was finally able to see a specialist, it was everything I’d dreamt it could be.
My new physician spent more than two hours dissecting my illness, from onset to present. She looked at my life as a whole, explored possible genetic, environmental and lifestyle factors, gave me answers regarding some of my more disturbing symptoms, and explained to me what is known about the disease.
She gave me a listening ear, answers — hope. Bolstered with all this, I returned home — and it wasn’t 12 hours later that I woke in the night with a feeling of dread, and a message flashing in my mind: “My body is a dud.” The wording of the message was telling.
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