Do you want to immediately give yourself a fight or flight response? How about a trip to the doctor’s office? 

Maybe it’s the whiteness of the walls, the old wallpaper and artwork, or the multitude of pamphlets with millions of options that send me into a tizzy. The drone of quiet conversations behind closed doors and the hum of the equipment. It’s certainly hard to focus… the crinkling of the paper beneath me on the table while I am waiting gets under my nerves. I wait for what feels like eons until the doctor finally takes my chart, reviews it in less than a minute, and then comes waltzing in with his or her own agenda. 

The thing is, it might not be any of the physical things that cause me to sweat while I await the doctor. It might be the realization that going to the doctor’s office means taking on more work. I know, if you are like me, you’re probably like, “Well no, you go to the doctor to help take away whatever physical ailment you have going on.” And I do still agree with this. But, if we truly want to get better, the doctor is going to prescribe us some form of action. Likely, that action will include a prescription for some type of drug that is supposed to help with whatever diagnosis is assigned. Ultimately, the selected drug is one that the medical sales representatives have told them will provide them bonuses. (Hey, it’s the ugly truth) But if your doctor is smart and helpful, they will also tell you basic actions you can take to remedy some of your symptoms, too. 

For example, diet and exercise and a process of elimination. None of the quick fixes our culture is used to or craves. Because, let’s face it, feeling ‘the things’ sucks most of the time.

Prior to children but soon into my marriage, my body started to change. I started getting severe migraines and had bowel issues at least monthly. Both symptoms seemed to come out of nowhere, and I couldn’t assign a linkage with any one thing I was doing. This, of course, leads to a fair amount of anxiety. I felt out of control. So, what did I do? I saw a myriad of medical professionals: Optometrist, ENT Specialist, Neurologist, Allergist, Obstetrician-gynecologist, and of course my primary care physician. And do you know what I got from each of them? Just about the same thing: here, take this pill. If it doesn’t work, then it wasn’t “Y” so then we’ll try another pill for “Z”. 

Of course I didn’t want to trial-and-error with drugs but I was a lot less anxious before ‘Ashley postpartum’, so I did try a couple of medications. I tried a pill the neurologist suggested for the prevention of migraines. My headaches were plenty bad at that point of my life so I thought if I could at least take that stressor away, then life would be much more manageable. It made me feel pretty loopy and a bit drunk, almost immediately. I almost pushed those feelings aside because, as I said, when we go to the doctor we have to be ready to give-up now in exchange for the relief we may hopefully feel. But, it was safe to say that this pill was not the answer for me. It left me in my day-to-day feeling a bit drugged and not myself. And, truthfully, I am not sure I had any business being on a pill for my migraines. They were happening three or less times per a month. I needed to figure out what was causing them and remedy the cause. And, that’s maybe my biggest problem with modern, primary care medicine. 

Again, I came blazing in to all of these doctors offices with a listing of symptoms, announced at random. What more can they do after knowing me for thirty seconds other than attempting a guess at tying these varied ailments to one root cause? It’s really not a conducive situation to remedy anyone’s troubles. Would you walk into a room, shake hands with someone you’ve never met, and then say “Here! Take this pill. It will cure everything (I don’t know about you)”…?

In my postpartum periods, I suffered from a lot of increasing anxiety. My OBGYN liked to just say, “You’re a new mom (of one, of two, of three), you’re going to feel this way. It’s normal.” Here’s the thing. I DO appreciate the sisterhood camaraderie of this statement. It DOES help to know I am not the only one going through something  (anxiety LOVES to play you like you’re the only one! That’s how it gets you uber hyped up). But, I am NOT the type of person who admits weakness or likes to go to the doctor. In fact, I’d venture to say that I HATE IT. So, if I am there, then there is, in fact, something the matter with me and I need the consult of both western and eastern medicine to help me get back to a life worth living.

Yes, I also said eastern medicine. Because, I have found the most relief in the work I’ve done through eastern medicine. Now, there are some kooky-things out there that may or may not have been helpful. A lot of my troubles stem from my mental state. (More to that… ) So I say “may or may not have helped” because I saw one medical professional for over a year and he was out-there but the overall experience did help me a bit. For example, I had to hold a vile of essential oils or supplements while I held the hand of his assistant and she held his hand and only then could he determine whether my body “wanted” or “needed” that supplement. I was grasping at straws at that point with my anxiety and postpartum depression so I stuck with this practice and handed over hundreds of dollars.  He bonked me on the head with a reflex hammer every so often – maybe that was what did the trick and set me on a new path to wellness? 

I also saw a therapist during this time. It was HARD to talk about my feelings. I felt stupid and whiney while I spoke them aloud. I felt menial and weak. But after I decided to open up and accept my diagnosis, the real work started and I saw an inner and outward change in myself. I saw it in the facial expressions of my husband – relief, understanding, reconnection. I began to open up to him and to my very close friends. I admitted and accepted that I had some real work to do. And it went beyond the Instagram “self-care” that looks like massages and face-masks and a glass of Pinot Grigio. This thing called “mental health” is a thing. And everyone has various and fluid degrees of mental wellness. Though it has a stigma because we have refused to talk about it for hundreds of years, it can be the very first pinpoint of your overall health and well-being. 

Think about this small fact. Have you ever had a really, really stressful moment in your life – preparing for a speech in front of a hundred people, studying for the bar exam, getting married, etc. and noted that the week leading up to that challenging or momentous occasion you come down with the flu? Or, you get a cold sore. Or, you are suddenly constipated for days. Think about it. Your mind is a very, very powerful thing. If you are over-worried or over-worked and lack sleep and basic vitamins or good nutrition, you are bound to end up feeling sick. My anxiety and worry caused stomach and bowel issues and potentially my headaches.

I am glad to say that my physical wellness game changed especially when I began to see a chiropractor and nutritionist. She explained the outward and inward signs of estrogen dominance and the appropriate blood work that would help identify where I was deficient. I was blown-away when she described and drew on a scratch-pad pictures and diagrams of how the body processes estrogen. She recommended dietary changes and reviewed my panel before setting me up with an appropriate amount and level of supplements. And I left her office FINALLY feeling understood. I became pregnant again and she guided me through it. Upon delivery, I could tell I was walking strangely as I must have overcompensated for the added frontal weight gain and she set my hips back into place. It was not an enjoyable experience, but the hard-work I put in through it all made a huge difference on my physical and mental health.

Am I still anxious and a bit depressed this third time postpartum? Yes. But, I understand what is happening and why it is happening. My ailments are symptoms. They are my body telling me something is “off”. It’s o.k. to FEEL them and not expect a quick fix. It’s uncomfortable. It’s hard to go through. It’s even hard to remember during my struggles that they are symptoms and that they are only temporary. It’s easy to still get worked-up. It’s hard to allow them to be felt and to allow them to pass through me. But now I am open about talking about them and I am open to trying all of the tools in my medical tool belt before I succumb to frustration or a tiny little pill.

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