I embarked on an experiment in healing in '09. For two years, I’d been suffering debilitating exhaustion. My identity as a physician, wife, and mother was crumbling. Housebound, We had to quit my job at a San Francisco clinic. My relationship with my husband, David, was held together by its last thread, and I could barely get off the couch to care for my two young daughters. I'd hit rock bottom.
A diagnosis of autoimmune thyroiditis (also known as Hashimoto’s disease) a few years earlier had explained some, but not all, of my symptoms, including vertigo, heart palpitations, muscle aches, anxiety, insomnia, confusion, nausea, and hypersensitivity to noise and light. Lab tests had come back “normal,” and I’d seen numerous specialists: No one had answers.
I diagnosed myself with chronic fatigue syndrome, however this didn’t provide any good treatments — only more questions.
My medical training had taught me that a patient is either sick or well; the exam is positive or negative. Now, my very own mysterious illness was showing me the constraints of that model.
To reclaim my entire life, I had to venture outside the black-and-white mindset of reductionist science and walk into the expansive human experience — my human experience — using its many shades of gray. For me personally, this was uncharted territory.
I named my experiment “How to Get Off the Couch” and realized that my healing journey could be one part science, one part art, and something part faith.
Time to Experiment
Consulting my Pathology 101 textbook from medical school sparked an aha! moment: Chronic diseases don’t develop suddenly. They start as subtle imbalances and low-grade inflammation, often years or decades before an analysis can be made.
My mind — schooled in the sick–well paradigm — hadn’t seen inflammation like a treatable disease. But now the sensations in my body were undeniable. Inflammation have been brewing for a long time.
I’d been a physically and emotionally sensitive child. I hated feeling weak, and so i learned to be tough. I pushed through grueling 90-hour weeks as a medical student. I caused Doctors Without Borders in an HIV/AIDS clinic in rural China.
But after I gave birth to our first child in 2005 and developed Hashimoto’s, I felt the toughness wearing thin. Then came my second pregnancy, which coincided with acute gastroenteritis that sent me right into a chronic flulike state compounded by vertigo.
To regain my energy, I began with sleep — the time when the body repairs cells and quashes inflammation. I started going to bed and getting up at consistent times; I wore a sleep mask and earplugs to remove streetlights and traffic noise.
I reset my internal clock by getting sunlight in the morning and dimming lights after dark. I started taking melatonin after I learned that it could reduce stress and inflammation.
I also added daily doses of nature to my regimen. My nervous system felt less revved up after i strolled in a park or sat underneath the weeping cypress in our backyard. When we moved from San Francisco to Berkeley, partly to retreat from the commotion in our former neighborhood, I added houseplants to the bedrooms and living areas.
As I inched my in place the “functionality scale,” I needed to avoid wasting effort on techniques that were likely to fail, so I began developing my intuition to help me home in on modalities that might be most effective. My reclaimed sensitivity became one of my greatest gifts, as sensitivity and intuition are connected, and I got better at sensing what my body system needed.
Although I was skeptical about alternative practices, I listened when several friends testified towards the efficacy of acupuncture and herbs, and that i let my intuition guide me. I made a scheduled appointment with a well-regarded acupuncturist, who took my pulse and asked questions about everything from my relationships towards the quality of my urine.
During the very first visit, he inserted just two whisker-like needles, one into all of my palms. Thirty minutes later, I woke from the deepest sleep I’d been on years.
The Path to Healing
After two months of acupuncture and herbs, the outcomes were confirmed: I had enough energy to depart the house for short outings almost daily.
Over the following months, my acupuncturist recommended I practice qigong, a movement meditation I’d seen people do in public squares during visits to my parents in Beijing. He explained it could help my chi, or life-force energy, flow more freely.
My analytical mind determined that the slow, deliberate motions of qigong posed few risks and held the possibility of increased energy. So I subscribed to a workshop and learned a practice called “Lift Qi Up, Pour Qi Down.” I went home motivated to practice twice a day for 15 minutes.
If I was too tired or dizzy to physically perform the practice, I would visualize it. The way the brain works, visualizing the movements has similar benefits to doing them. Within a few weeks, my chronic vertigo diminished dramatically. I possibly could even do the practice standing with my eyes closed.
There were a number of other lessons from my research: After learning that certain chemicals can disrupt hormones and trigger autoimmune reactions, I cleared our home of nonstick pans and plastic bottles, and I began buying organic produce whenever possible.
I also began cooking more anti-inflammatory, nutrient-dense foods, and that i tested myself for food allergies. I didn’t test positive for coeliac disease, but there was evidence of potential sensitivities to gluten and dairy. An effort elimination diet confirmed these intolerances.
Investigating hidden infections, I tested positive for Epstein-Barr virus (EBV) and treated by using prescription drugs and supplements. With time, my energy increased, my dizziness improved, and contrary to what I’d learned in medical training, the autoimmunity within my body was reversing. I knew this because my thyroid medication dose became too strong; I tapered it down by 75 %. After several years, I was in a position to stop it completely.
Each new step made me feel more empowered. “Treating” is what a doctor does; it’s one-directional, and the patient passively receives a procedure or drug. For EBV and other infections, this is very useful.
But “healing” is learning how to tap into the body’s innate intelligence and could be done with or without a doctor. It’s reaffirming because it comes from within.
A New Health Paradigm
Today I’m way off the couch. I continue to take care of myself by eating well, exercising, and concentrating on joy. For the past two years, I’ve been deepening two key practices: my qigong routine (up to two hours a day) and my intuition. I’m healthier now than ever before. It feels like a radical remission.
My experience inspired me to write a book, Brave New Medicine, to share how I uncovered the root reasons for my autoimmune illnesses. I also started a personal practice in integrative and functional medicine, which blends cutting-edge science using the holistic techniques I learned firsthand. Now I remind my patients that I’m not the captain of the ship; they are. I’m simply their navigator.
I speak with many mainstream doctors who express their desire to have a similar change. I believe we need to expand integrative and functional medicine on the broad scale, right now.
Cynthia's Top 3 Success Strategies
1. Heal the gut: Having imbalanced gut flora affects the whole body. Cynthia recommends avoiding processed starches, sugars, and oils, and eating a diet rich in vegetables, fiber, healthy fats, and protein.
2. Inhabit the body: She suggests staying present with your body, even when you're sick. “You can't heal from something you're mentally detached from.”
3. Practice pleasure: Cynthia's favorite prescriptions include walking in nature for 15 minutes (five times per week, barefoot if possible) and watching funny videos and laughing – even if you have to fake it initially.
