Post #23: Tree fungus on Tuesdays

It's true. However, that little kid is FREAKING ME OUT. Also, do apples really "poop"? You're confusing me book.

Tick tock, tick tock....the taper approaches. I'm at that point again where things are (relatively) stable and then I have to go and fuck them up. I seem to be at that point a lot.

I think the time has come to discuss, in detail, my asshole naturopath, as seeing him has had bearing on my whole Crohn's process thus far. I've alluded to his assholery (assholishness?), but that doesn't paint the whole picture. I'm sure that many people who are given a diagnosis with lifelong implications (or even short term ones) seek second opinions, or alternative therapies. Facing the prospect of a few doctors who told me that diet doesn't matter (which I still don't fully believe) and offered instead an arsenal of scary, (potentially!) cancer causing drugs, I did what seemed like the logical next step: ask a hippie.

Naturopaths aren't by definition hippies, but this one is. I had been seeing a delightful naturopath who referred me to the asshole naturopath on the basis that he was THE GUY for Crohn's in my area. I was warned that he could be difficult to work with, and that he was very impressed with himself. I made an appointment anyway, because I was curious about what he had to say and frankly because I wanted to see how much of an asshole he really was. Mainly, though, I wanted to hear a voice from a different medical viewpoint tell me that things were going to be fine, maybe pat my hand, and tell me to lick a special kind of fungus on Tuesdays in the moonlight to calm my angry colon (naturopaths aren't really like that-I just like to be DRAMATIC).

After waiting the obligatory 35 minutes in the waiting room (a musty, dusty "parlor" area of an old house where his practice was located, complete with copies of his books and lots of hanging plants), I was shown into his office. Asshole naturopath was short, compact, and had a direct and disconcerting gaze. I launched into my spiel, gave a complete family history, and promptly started to cry. It was early in the steroid and Pentasa days, and I was still living on white bread, Gatorade, and baked lays. I was scared and I wanted someone to tell me how to live this new life.

Asshole naturopath, for all of his faults, is an astute and accurate reader or human emotions. It might be a parlor trick, this ability to "connect" so quickly so virtual strangers, but it is an effective and seductive skill. Maybe I was just in a vulnerable place, and I was more impressed with his observations than I normally would be, but after listening to my story, he told me what kind of  person I was. He discussed how I was stubborn and oppositional and scared of change and clinging to any semblance of control over my life and my symptoms. He pulled out a book and read my astrological chart, which confirmed the same. As I sat in his office and cried, he told me that illness is a journey, and every illness is meant to teach us something. What was I supposed to learn through this new diagnosis? How would my life change, and how would I change to accommodate this new illness? He thought that my lesson was about control, about learning to embrace acceptance. He told me that I would be a better person by going through this process.

He told me many other things , but during that initial appointment I was hooked. He was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear: that there was a higher purpose for being diagnosed with this disease, maybe even a reason , and that positive things like self discovery and acceptance and strength could come from the experience. He had a plan, one that incorporated both drugs and natural supplements. He wanted me to have super special naturopathic allergy testing and cut out gluten. He was so confident and so sure of himself that I was completely willing to trust his edicts. During that first visit, which lasted over two hours, I put my battered self into his hands. He was nothing but lovely, even when I called bullshit on some of his theories (I am oppositional, after all!).

I remember leaving that appointment feeling more hopeful than I had at any point in the diagnostic process, happy to have someone see "the whole picture" and guide me toward health. I should point out that at this point I was still doctor shopping for my new gastro, and intended to have both a traditional and naturopath physician working on my case simultaneously (and in perfect harmony, hahaha). I had had a lot of meetings with a lot of doctors delivering a lot of not so great news, so asshole naturopath was like a breath of fresh air.

Eventually, however, he did become an asshole. That is for another post, but when I first met him, I was fully invested in the idea that maybe his profession had something equally valuable to offer me in treating my Crohn's. There are still many of his ideas that I agree with, including the fact that traditional medicine only treats full blown diseases instead of focusing on preventative care. And to this day, I've been "cutting out the white stuff," which is a mash-up of his advice, stuff I've read on the internet, trial and error, and a bunch of books about the anti-inflammatory lifestyle.

I guess my whole point in recounting this story is that when you are at a place of desperation, you can sometimes fall sway to the questionable advice of strong and charismatic men. People who say what you want to hear, when the rational part of your mind is subsumed by an emotional and spiritual craving for safety and comfort. I am still surprised by how thoroughly he read me on that first visit, and how quickly I felt connected to him and invested in his advice.

Eventually, I changed my mind, but I still think about him sometimes, and about the "journey" I am experiencing.