After I saw my primary care doctor that day I found the EKG came back normal. That was good news. Although I remained unconvinced. The doctor didn’t seem to think that my difficulty taking deep breaths is anything more than anxiety. I shared that I have a homeopathic remedy for that. And she did see fit to remind me that homeopathic are drugs. I must have been slow on the uptake because she repeated it. “You know those are drugs.” Yeah, I do know. I do know their side effects too— homeopathics don’t have any known side effects. I suppose that was the edge— the one where I felt the rift in our belief systems and I think she did too. She made a smile though, when I shared that I took her advice from last year’s visit and stopped drinking coffee. There was a part of her that did look satisfied to hear that.
I left that doctors office with referrals for a chest x-ray and a cardiologist visit. The fear of accepting something congenital and irreversible was subtle but persistent. I was committed to doing whatever it took to rule out
As I was leaving the building, I noticed the DO in the office adjacent. He seemed happier, although still dogged. He did seem more well rounded. I felt inspired to ask if he took my insurance. He did. I asked if he practiced functional medicine to which he replied no. He didn’t seem to know what it was. I thanked him and moved on.