A Lady Walks into a Doctor’s Office

On April 23, 2013

It’s not that I was sick; I wasn’t. I just needed a doctor’s name to put on my new insurance provider’s form as my Physician of Record. Since I had not been inside a doctor’s office for more than a year l had to rummage through my files to find the number of a doctor I had seen seven years before—before my bout with stage IV kidney cancer that was supposed to bring my time on earth to an end. “I don’t want a physical exam,” I explained when I made the appointment. “Or even a check-up. Just a brief consultation.”

Yet, when the doctor came into the examination room and greeted me, he took out his pen and launched into a series of questions concerning my medical history. That completed, he stood and reached into a cabinet and handed me a plastic cup. “The bathroom is down that hall, I’ll meet you right back here.”

“But – “

A nurse appeared to show me the way.

I don’t suppose it would hurt to pee in a cup, nobody’s asking me to sign something.

I set the cup on the designated shelf and returned to the exam room to get my things when the nurse breezed in and told me to roll up my sleeve, the doctor wanted a blood sample.

“No, I – “ I started to say, but the nurse was looking at her watch. The needle stood ready in one hand, cotton ball soaked in antiseptic in the other.

Obediently, I rolled up my sleeve. That green rock sitting in the crystal bowl on the table in the waiting room is not decoration, it’s kryptonite.

“The doctor wants an EKG and chest x-ray, so if you’ll undress and put on that gown, I’ll be right back.” Peering at me over her glasses, she added, “It’ll take two seconds! We’ll have you out of here in no time. “We’re a high-tech, one-stop shopping operation!”


Now the nurse was wheeling in the EKG machine and slapping little round sticky things onto my chest. Next, I was being swept into the x-ray room for a chest x-ray.

“Call in two days for the lab results,” she said as I was leaving.

That was two weeks ago.

I have not called for those labs. Since my last cancer treatment eight (!) years ago, I have not had a PET scan, x-ray, MRI, mammogram, colonoscopy, pap smear, ultrasound, or for that matter, a single flu shot. I know my body, I can sense any changes and I know what to do to address them. When I feel my body is out of balance, I take the time to figure out the cause, and, if needed, I will use botanicals, not pharmaceuticals to restore the balance. I have a naturopath, a chiropractor, an acupuncturist, and a variety of energy healers to turn to. Recently, I have added a new healer to my team, a medical empathic with extraordinary psychic abilities from New York, Ron Bard. For me, the White Coats, no matter how skilled and kind and well-intentioned, are my kryptonite.

My naturopath, Marie Anne, a skilled therapist and practitioner, has shown again and again that healing is possible even in people suffering from life-threatening illness that doctors have pronounced incurable. Her belief is that all the hi-tech tests available now are but a snapshot of the body’s systems in process at that moment. “The body is always changing, renewing, discharging toxins, replenishing and healing. A terrifying diagnosis can send the emotional/physical body into shock, creating its own path of illness.”

I fully accept that conventional medicine has its place; I would not want a psychic or a naturopath to set my broken leg. But to stay healthy, to stay connected to my body and learn to listen to its signals, I prefer the way of the healer.

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