The Chronic Illness Sufferer Who Tried To Cure Herself

The Chronic Illness Sufferer Who Tried To Cure Herself

Is self-healing the future of modern medicine?

All my regular readers should be well versed in my Month of Healing by now. I literally spent the whole of February blogging, discussing and living the idea, so if you haven’t heard of it – where have you been?

I kid; I guess I'm just trying to point out that it was a huge deal. Since I got my first diagnosis, I have been determined to heal myself. No matter how ridiculous the concept sounded, there was no way I could ignore the fact that I couldn't find any clear evidence that it wasn't possible to get better.

Chronic illness is still so misunderstood. For every health organization that tells you there is no cure, there are an equal amount of miracle stories in which even the most terminal of sufferers have been healed.

I developed the Month of Healing from years of research into those exact claims.

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Here’s a brief overview of what the month involved.

  • No work, no plans. If this was going to work, I needed to eradicate any potential stresses.
  • Diet changes. Through a mixture of research and personal experience, I created the perfect diet for me – DO NOT COPY IT WORD FOR WORD, every digestive system is unique.
  • Reduction in toxins. No alcohol, smoking or caffeine; no chemical cosmetics or products – beware incense and scented candles people!
  • Exercise. Gentle exercise – no pushing too hard.
  • Yoga & Meditation. My preferred path to natural healing success!
  • Natural medication alternative. Where possible! I still took my daily medication but experimented with natural alternatives for symptom relief.
  • No screens or social media. Facebook kills, be careful.

A Lesson In Balance

So you may be thinking that this sounds like an incredibly extreme undertaking. Well, you’d be right. I lasted about a week before I caved in almost every one of these categories.

There are people out there – trust me, I've met some of them – who can sit through a ten-day meditation retreat in silence and stillness, or spend a month fasting in South America and walk out cured. I am not one of those people.

However, through my failure – I did have a wonderful discovery! Instead of giving up and deciding it was useless, each time a slip up occurred I still carried on with the plan; never mentally assaulting myself or blaming myself for the digression.

Miraculous Recovery

I can't tell exactly how it happened. It may have been the acupuncture, the Month of Healing or even my new mindset. In all likelihood, it was probably a mixture of everything. However, by the last week, I was an entirely new person.I'd booked a trip to Iceland before the month started, hoping it would be a great way to reward myself. In all honesty, I'd already pretty much given up and assumed it wasn't going to happen.Yet, miraculously, I was entirely well enough to get on that plane when the time came. My anxiety was moderate, my energy seemed infinite, and I truly felt positive and excited about the trip.Today, I'm still trying to find an explanation for this huge shift – it can't be because of my month of healing, can it? Surely, it isn't that easy to cure yourself?

The Next Step

I don't know the answer. Everything that has happened is exciting but in no way conclusive. After a month of trying to live well, I'm definitely feeling better, but the journey is not over. No matter what course of treatment you try, it's essential to be properly aware of how you are going to move forward.

If you just assume that you've found a miracle cure and are forever healed, it's likely your symptoms will flare up again eventually. However, by staying mindful and working to incorporate your healing techniques into your daily lifestyle, you can hopefully maintain long-term improvement – I'll let you know.

My plan from here on out is to vehemently stick with the treatments that I found worked best, continue to prioritize health overall and regularly review my progress to make sure nothing slips without my knowledge.

No matter who you are and what your situation is, I highly recommend you try giving yourself some time dedicated to self-healing. It's an undeniably powerful tool, and I believe it's the best bet we have to defeat - or at least moderate - long-term chronic illness.

Happy healing!

Cover Image Credit: Pexels

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8 Reasons Why My Dad Is the Most Important Man In My Life

Forever my number one guy.

Growing up, there's been one consistent man I can always count on, my father. In any aspect of my life, my dad has always been there, showing me unconditional love and respect every day. No matter what, I know that my dad will always be the most important man in my life for many reasons.

1. He has always been there.

Literally. From the day I was born until today, I have never not been able to count on my dad to be there for me, uplift me and be the best dad he can be.

2. He learned to adapt and suffer through girly trends to make me happy.

I'm sure when my dad was younger and pictured his future, he didn't think about the Barbie pretend pageants, dressing up as a princess, perfecting my pigtails and enduring other countless girly events. My dad never turned me down when I wanted to play a game, no matter what and was always willing to help me pick out cute outfits and do my hair before preschool.

3. He sends the cutest texts.

Random text messages since I have gotten my own cell phone have always come my way from my dad. Those randoms "I love you so much" and "I am so proud of you" never fail to make me smile, and I can always count on my dad for an adorable text message when I'm feeling down.

4. He taught me how to be brave.

When I needed to learn how to swim, he threw me in the pool. When I needed to learn how to ride a bike, he went alongside me and made sure I didn't fall too badly. When I needed to learn how to drive, he was there next to me, making sure I didn't crash.

5. He encourages me to best the best I can be.

My dad sees the best in me, no matter how much I fail. He's always there to support me and turn my failures into successes. He can sit on the phone with me for hours, talking future career stuff and listening to me lay out my future plans and goals. He wants the absolute best for me, and no is never an option, he is always willing to do whatever it takes to get me where I need to be.

6. He gets sentimental way too often, but it's cute.

Whether you're sitting down at the kitchen table, reminiscing about your childhood, or that one song comes on that your dad insists you will dance to together on your wedding day, your dad's emotions often come out in the cutest possible way, forever reminding you how loved you are.

7. He supports you, emotionally and financially.

Need to vent about a guy in your life that isn't treating you well? My dad is there. Need some extra cash to help fund spring break? He's there for that, too.

8. He shows me how I should be treated.

Yes, my dad treats me like a princess, and I don't expect every guy I meet to wait on me hand and foot, but I do expect respect, and that's exactly what my dad showed I deserve. From the way he loves, admires, and respects me, he shows me that there are guys out there who will one day come along and treat me like that. My dad always advises me to not put up with less than I deserve and assures me that the right guy will come along one day.

For these reasons and more, my dad will forever be my No. 1 man. I love you!

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An Incurable Disease Doesn't Change The Love I Have For You

Because one day the one you love the most is fine and the next day they're not, it causes devastation you never truly recover from.


Loving someone with an incurable disease is the most emotionally straining thing I have ever experienced.

My significant other and I have been together for almost six years. During the summer of 2018, we all noticed the significant changes he was going through. He had lost around fifty pounds and had a lack of appetite. We had figured something was going on, however, we didn't realize it was anything serious.

Fast forward to the Fall semester of 2018. I had visited my boyfriend and we had expressed certain concerns, such as, through the night I would try and get him to stop uncontrollably itching his legs to the point of bleeding, or that he was looking a little yellow and was exhausted all the time. After seeing his sister in November, while I was at school, she pleaded with him to go to urgent care because he did not look good. He was yellow, exhausted, and very sickly looking. We didn't realize that the urgent care visit would be the precedent of the rest of our lives.

After coming home for Thanksgiving and spending a week straight in the hospital with him, it finally set in that something was not right. Between all the vomit, getting moved for testing, the weakness, the constant calling for medications because the pain was so severe, and the almost month-long stay in the hospital, it hit me full force that something was really wrong. Words will never truly describe the emotions I was feeling, or the burden of my thoughts that I felt were too selfish to pass on anyone, so I kept them to myself.

When we finally got the diagnosis, we were surprised. PSC, otherwise known as Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis, is an incurable liver disease that affects the bile ducts which become scarred and inflamed, more likely than not lead to cirrhosis and an inevitable transplant. There was no cure, rather the only solution was a liver transplant, and even then the disease can be recurring.

I was thinking selfishly. I was torn in two. What would our future look like? Could we have children? Could we ever do the things we used to?

Loving someone with an incurable disease is a mix of emotions. There is a constant fear in the back of my mind that he is going to wake up in intense pain and have to be rushed to the hospital. There is a constant fear of every time waiting for the bi-weekly blood test results to come back, in fear that his Bilirubin spiked again or he is undergoing a flare up and needs to be hospitalized. There is a constant anxiety that one day he's going to be fine, and the next day he won't be. Even the simple things, such as laying beside one another, was a constant fear I had, due to the pain he was in every day. What if I hit him in my sleep on accident? What if I accidentally hugged a little too tightly and caused him pain?

Loving someone with an incurable disease can be a fluctuation of emotions, however, he makes it worth it.


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