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I used to think doctors were infallible.
They’re not. They never were, but they often behave like they are — not the women so much, in my experience, but definitely the men.
Sure, they have medical degrees, so their knowledge of the human body is far greater than mine. The problem is they think they know more about what I’m experiencing than I do.
This is not a helpful assumption.
Rather than have a conversation with me, they’ll ask a generic question or two, then prescribe exactly what they would for any other patient— with no regard for the individual in front of them.
When I was in my late 30s, a male doctor told me my thyroid levels were “a little off.” He didn’t divulge the number from my test results. He also didn’t tell me any of the symptoms associated with levels that were “a little off.”
He simply asked, “How do you feel?”
I had no idea how I was supposed to feel, I felt like I always did.
At the time, I didn’t know there was a thing called Hashimoto’s (an auto-immune disease that causes the immune system to attack the hormone produced by the thyroid gland).
Had he cited a single symptom for me to respond to, I’d have given him an earful.
But he didn’t.
I had noticed several symptoms — which I realized years later were signs of Hashimoto’s, but they had appeared gradually over several years — so I attributed them to getting older.
(This was before we used the internet for everything — it didn’t occur to me to go online in search of answers to medical problems — That’s what the doctor was for.)
He didn’t ask about my diet or exercise regimen — or I’d have mentioned that I had to starve myself to stay thin. I didn’t think to tell him that even when I was a kid I was never able to snack on Doritos and French fries like the rest of my friends — I could get fat just looking at them.
He never asked if my skin was dry or if I broke nails constantly or if my eyebrows were practically non-existent. If I had known these were symptoms of Hashimoto’s, I would have said something. If he had known I had these symptoms, maybe I would not have had to endure another decade of poor health.
But he didn’t know, because he didn’t ask.
“How do you feel?” he said, with no reference to the person in front of him or the test results in his hand.
“ I feel fine,” I answered, oblivious to the fact my answer meant for the next decade my body would slowly fall apart.
Years later, when I accessed my old medical records, I discovered that my TSH at the time of that visit was over by 64%.
How is 64% a little off?
In the decade after that first visit, I couldn’t afford anything but catastrophic coverage, so it seemed logical to get a healthcare plan that covered accidents and not much else. I wasn’t on any regular medications yet (though I should have been) and I still felt relatively healthy.
For ten years, I thought I’d made the right choice. Then one day while on a trip to Santa Cruz with my partner, I realized how sick I was.
We had just finished dinner on the boardwalk and were walking up a fairly moderate incline when I found it difficult to breathe. Just a few months earlier I’d completed a strenuous 11-mile hike, with no issues. Suddenly, walking up a slight incline was more than I could manage.
I remember holding back the tears as I struggled to the top. As soon as I got there, I broke down. “Something is seriously wrong with me,” I said.
We drove home that night and I headed straight for the bookshelf in my office. There I found a book I’d ordered a few months before but never got around to reading. It was called Eight Weeks to Vibrant Health. I started reading it immediately and when I got to the section on Hashimoto’s disease, I was dumbfounded. I had every symptom they listed.
The next day I made an appointment to see my doctor (I had a different doctor by this time, fortunately). The second I saw him I blurted out “I have Hashimoto’s disease.” He took my blood and called me a few days later. “You’re right,” he said.
This time my TSH was 39 — over 800% off. In addition to the breathing trouble, I had also been experiencing a variety of odd aches and pains as well as constant cramps in my feet and regular Charley horses at night. I had pain after I ate as well. And I repeated myself, constantly.
As you may know, the thyroid hormone controls everything, from metabolism to cognition. It’s also why there are so many symptoms associated with hypothyroid. Each of us is different.
For many, low energy is the first symptom. For me, it was weight gain. I didn’t have low energy until my condition was very advanced.
This is why the ‘one size fits all’ approach is so dangerous. It belies nature.
After receiving a prescription for thyroid hormone medication, my TSH went back to normal, but my physical symptoms persisted. I still had all kinds of weird aches and pains, and I still couldn’t lose weight, even on a very rigid diet and exercise plan. I went from one doctor to another (all men) and all of them said “Your levels are good, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
One doctor told me I had fibromyalgia. Fibromyalgia is code for ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you and I’m tired of talking to you about it.’
It’s a bucket for anything men can’t figure out.
I began to think something else was causing my symptoms, but I couldn’t find a doctor who would listen to me. Finally, when I was visiting my mom, she told me about a woman doctor she knew. Her name was Sherna Madan. She came to the U.S. from India with her twin sister when they were just 19 years old. Both are MDs.
I credit Dr. Madan for saving my life — or I should say the quality of my life. None of the male doctors I went to were going to let me die — but they also didn’t give a damn about the quality of life they were prolonging.
Dr. Madan spent four hours with me on the first visit. We covered my entire history from as far back as I could remember. Then she said something I’ll never forget: “Yes, there is something wrong with you. But we are going to figure it out, together.”
I was so relieved — I cried all the way home.
It took a couple of years and a lot of blood tests, but we learned that I was severely deficient in several vitamins, my Cortisol levels were through the roof and my LDL cholesterol was high, even though I ate a low cholesterol diet.
I also had high insulin levels and was dangerously close to being Diabetic, even though I rarely consumed sugar. To help with the weight gain, she recommended that I start HRT (hormone replacement therapy). She told me that many women’s bodies shut down after menopause and the only solution is to be on hormones for the rest of their lives.
When I asked about the increased risk of breast cancer, she told me that issue had been addressed and resolved years ago, but many doctors don’t know it, so they still won’t prescribe it.
Dr. Madan believed if I took the proper doses of estrogen and progesterone, I’d be able to get my weight down again. She was right.
I lost 40 lbs. the first year, but I still had aches and pains on occasion, so I began experimenting with supplements. I found that in addition to thyroid meds and HRT, I needed magnesium, glucosamine-chondroitin, and niacin, as well as a cholesterol-lowering supplement called annatto tocotrienols.
I also eat two eggs a day, which is counterintuitive because they have a lot of cholesterol in them. But what most doctors won’t tell you is that they have what’s considered good cholesterol — but you need to eat the whole egg, not just the whites. If you have enough good cholesterol it works to lower the bad cholesterol.
After a few months on the right supplements, my blood tests showed perfect levels. My cholesterol dropped to below 100, my TSH was exactly where it should be, all my unexplained aches and pains were gone, and I felt like I was 35 again.
The entire experiment took over two years and there was a lot of trial and error. The key was listening to my body and having a doctor who listened as well — and who used her extensive medical expertise to guide me on this personal journey.
One thing I’ve discovered on my own and has been confirmed by comments I’ve read online is that if Hashimoto’s goes untreated long enough, some of the functions the thyroid hormone is responsible for never return fully.
I believe this is why I need so many supplements. It feels like my body just can’t pull the right nutrients from food anymore. With supplements, a big part of that process is done before I take the pills — and my body responds very well to that.
My metabolism is still slow, so I do have to make sure I eat a healthy diet and get plenty of exercise, but I’m okay with that. At least when I do what I should, I feel good. That’s all the motivation I need.
I am thankful that years after my diagnosis there are more female doctors willing to listen to their patients' individual stories and recognize that we are all unique and need to be treated accordingly.
One day, I hope we can convince Congress that healthcare should not be a for-profit enterprise or tied to employment. We all need quality healthcare, not just the ones lucky enough to land a high-paying corporate job.
As it stands, the system encourages those seeking prestige and money to attend medical school rather than those seeking to help people live better lives. It costs too much to attend medical school and it takes too much to pay off the debt the current system creates. My hope is that as more women enter Congress, they will work on that.
In the meantime, it’s important to remember that doctors are only human. They make assumptions and they make mistakes — just like the rest of us. We need to be our own health advocates — and that means both holding them to a higher standard — and no longer treating them like they are higher beings.
Which reminds me of an old joke.
Q: What do you call the guy who finished last in medical school?
A: “Doctor”
Photo on left, before I met Doctor Madan. Photo on right, two years later.