When Fibro Has Its Way

“Find me a doctor to yell at. Then find me a doctor to fix you.”

Inspiring things my husband has resorted to saying when he sees how bad my bad days are and is in desperation of helping me.

When women feel helpless they cry. When men feel helpless they get angry… There has been too much of both of these in our home as of late.


Desperately Testing Hope

I was nervous, I was clueless, and to be honest a tad bit desperate. The medications I’m on have been losing their effectiveness as my body has acclimated to them.

I’ve never volunteered for a trial and have always been pretty against it, but then I read about his work. I read his theories. I emailed him without any hope of getting anything but an automated response..

Then, up in pain and unable to sleep I checked my email and found this:

Thank you for your interest in helping IMC in its future trials. Given that the first phase 3 trial is a year away, that does seem to be a long way off. If you can get to me, I will see and treat you (for free, if necessary). This is far and away the best option. I would also be willing to assist a doc in your area… This program works well but this physician needs to follow the protocol completely. The treatment is more than just 2 or 3 meds, but the meds are the most important element. If more is needed, I will try to help with that.”

He responded. And his response was human and, as far as I can tell, sincere. I want to wake my husband up and tell him “There is HOPE”!

There is hope. And that hope can take me in many directions, but for now that hope is placing my hand inside this doctor’s and giving me a path and a protocol to follow.

There is a plan now. I’m not haplessly floundering in pain and unknowns. I may never be “whole” but I can definitely be “better”. And I desperately want to be better.

Antiviral Combo May be Next Blockbuster Fibromyalgia Drug