It’s important to ‘remember where you came from’ as the saying goes. In our case, it’s a very short step back in time to re-experience how our health incinerated around us from colossal personal loss of everything we worked for, coupled with a grim diagnosis of my wife's brain tumor, and loss of my only brother, and mother. It all exceeded my ability to cope. I crumbled into (what I was told by the physicians treating me) severe lifelong illness with no cure (was told it was worst crohns and ulcerated colitis on record for that regional hospital in Connecticut). Supposedly my future would be possible only if I submitted to a series of powerful medications that would keep my immune system from destroying me. Seriously? Who changed my life script? How extremely bleak it was and so glibly delivered with complete certainty. Months of self-administered shots and potent pharmaceuticals followed. I was told I could not miss a dose or the meds would become far less effective due to developing a tolerance to them.
OK, I get it: follow directions exactly or I’m screwed...for life.
My outcome, our outcomes, were not in their play book. And if you should come to such a place in your life then it shouldn’t be in yours either. Do your homework and ask questions...be a ‘pain in their ass'...it will save your life. I swear.
Why share this ‘dirty laundry?
In this telling of our health debacles I'll inject my understanding of what happened...looking back...in as much as one can truly know anything for sure. But there are valuable transferable lessons in this.
This crisis was the fuel for us to dare attempt to heal ourselves...AGAINST medical advice. Having a willingness to laugh at the arrogance the doctors who thought they were in charge of our care was the first step yet NOT alienating them completely in case we did need them later. The second step was to figure out how to get out of the situation. Loosing nearly all we valued, money, practice, health, brother, mother, our cars, our home, … was massively disorienting, yet made us be grateful enough to realize we had chance to go on. The metrics of our life was now breath by breath or in the case of my uncontrolled GI bleed bleed, from the crohns and ulcerated colitis, corpuscle by corpuscle, and to accept that crawling forward was really all we could do.
Learning about keto was NOT a bolt out of blue, nor was it anything I had learned in med school. In fact, it was years before it became a popular search term on google, or that anyone would think about putting together a conference on this.
Forward was nothing more than being able to make bone broth and thinking caprylic acid (would help my gut heal because it was anti fungal, something I had memorized in med school). We were grasping for straws as we crawled.
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Until next time, Dr. Karl