My Personal Health Journey

Up until my early 30s, I was living life at the fullest: traveling abroad for 6 months with my husband, working full-time in a primary HIV/AIDS clinic, and exercising regularly. I felt at home in the world and in my body. I considered myself healthy. But later, with hindsight being 20/20, I realized I had underlying imbalances for many years, starting as subtle symptoms I either disregarded or pushed past. These subtle symptoms were signs of mounting inflammation and physiological stress.

With hindsight being 20/20, I realized I had underlying imbalances for many years.

On top of these underlying imbalances, the added stresses of a pregnancy, childbirth, and the postpartum period proved to be the tipping point for me. I developed postpartum thyroiditis, an autoimmune condition similar to Hashimoto’s thyroiditis, which affects millions around the world. Despite following the prescriptions of a top-notch endocrinologist, I still felt plagued by persistent dizziness and fatigue.

I was still functional, though. So life continued as usual.

Soon thereafter, a 2nd pregnancy threw me into a chronic state of severe, escalating symptoms no one could decipher–not my primary care doctor, various specialists, nor myself. I fell into the group of patients that either (a) was not recognized or validated by the medical community, or (b) was beyond simple or known solutions. I spiraled in a vortex of debilitating diagnoses including chronic fatigue syndrome and dysautonomia (a dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system that regulates vital functions like blood pressure, heart rate, digestion, and breathing)–conditions I hadn’t even believed to be “real.” There were no tests to confirm them. There was no proof. I was housebound for 2 years, and largely housebound for the greater part of a decade.

Hope is a deep orientation of the human soul that is held in the darkest of times.

In the years that followed, I was forced to explore the fundamentals of healing. Like the connection between nourishment and health. And our inextricable connectedness to our external environments. The mysterious inner world of the microbiome–the billions of microorganisms in the ecosystems of our gut, airways, mouth, and skin. The more mysterious world yet of subtle energies like qi (pronounced “chee”).

I experimented with integrative medicine, acupuncture and herbs, mind-body medicine with a focus on neuroplasticity–rehabilitation exercises to rewire the communication between our brain and hormonal pathways–and whole foods-based ancestral diets like WAPF, GAPS and the Paleo Diet. I learned how to prepare and cook delicious nutrient-dense foods. I learned to tap into the support offered by the strong, loving community around me. And I began to practice pleasure again. After a prolonged medical leave, I gradually returned to clinical practice, but with a very different set of eyes: I saw more clearly the beautiful complexity of the human mind, body, and spirit, and what can happen when that wholesome balance is disturbed.

The Czech writer and political leader Vaclav Havel articulated a distinction between optimism and hope that is paraphrased here: Optimism is the belief that everything will go right. Hope is a deep orientation of the human soul that can be held in the darkest of times. It is from this hope that I return to a renewed experience of life’s richness and its mysteries.