The Horrors of Holistic Medicine
by
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<>“Cancer?” I shook my head in shock and disbelief, refusing to accept the death sentence I thought my gynecologist was pronouncing.
“You have a large mass on your left ovary,” he said gently, “It could be cancer.”
The nightmare of months of uncertainty and testing had become a horrible reality.
It was March 24, 1982. Just the day before, Dr. Fields, my hematologist, had said, “I can’t make an accurate diagnosis until you’ve seen a gynecologist.”
I had first consulted Dr. Fields on October 30, 1981, because my body had not been responding to the anemia treatment recommended by my holistic medical doctor. Three months ago, while searching for the cause of my long-standing anemia, Dr. Fields had off-handedly suggested, “I’d like you to see a gynecologist. Do you know one?”
I didn’t have a gynecologist, but I had replied, “I can ask a friend.”
“That will be fine,” he had responded.
The request sounded routine, not urgent, not like one that would help make a quicker diagnosis. It sounded more precautionary, as part of my total health picture. Only three months earlier, I’d had my yearly pelvic and pap tests at Arcadia Clinic, the holistic medical facility I patronized. The licensed nurse practitioner (LNP), who always performed my exams reported that everything was “normal.” So, I had been in no hurry to incur added and unnecessary expense by repeating the procedure without good reason.
It never occurred to me that my holistic practitioner might not be honest or could be mistaken.
In the meantime, however, I’d talked to a friend who gave me the name of her gynecologist. I figured I would visit him next June, around my birthday, when I normally had my annual pelvic and pap exam.
One of the first questions Dr. Fields asked during the March 23 visit was, “Have you seen a gynecologist yet?”
“No,” I admitted. “I thought I would wait until June when I normally have that exam.”
That’s when he explained he could not complete his diagnosis until I was checked. “There’s a good gynecologist this building,” he said. “Do you mind if I make an appointment you?”
“No,” I answered cautiously. ”Go ahead.” Actually, I preferred to have him make the arrangements. Doctors, I believed, were more aware of who in the medical profession were reliable physicians and who were the “quacks.” Friends are often swayed by emotional loyalty to their doctors.
I expected the appointment to be made for the following week or even the following month, depending on how busy the doctor’s schedule was.
“You have an appointment with Dr. John Lance tomorrow morning at nine-thirty,” Dr. Fields said, coming back into the examining room. “I’ve discussed your case with him. Can you be there?”
“Tomorrow morning?” I repeated, believing I had not heard him correctly. Dr. Fields was a tall man. Now, towering above me, he seemed imposingly huge as he peered over his half-glasses and wordlessly nodded his head. “Yes, I suppose I can be there.” I still was only slightly unnerved by his haste in setting up the appointment. After all, he had suggested it months before. Apparently, however, the recommendation had not been meant as a simple request.
Dr. John Lance, a youthful, handsome doctor, had that “all- American boy” look, more like someone who had just graduated from college than a medical school graduate. He reminded me of the type of person I expected to see running for college student-body president.
“You have an abdominal mass about the size of a tennis ball in your left ovary,” he reported when he finished the pelvic exam. “It could be cancer.”
“How can that be?” I retorted. “I had a pelvic exam last June. I was told everything was ‘normal.’ Do cancers grow that fast?”
“Sometimes they are hard to detect,” he replied, smoothly sidestepping my question.
I raised my voice in frustration. “Well, I’ve had the pain for at least ten years. Certainly they should have felt something in that length of time.”
Ignoring my anger, Dr. Lance maneuvered the conversation back to the issue at hand. “You have a large abdominal mass. It needs to come out as soon as possible. You also have some large fibroids in the uterus, and there probably is endometriosis.”
“No one ever told me I had fibroids, but I know I have endometriosis. I’ve had it for years. Betty said it was nothing to worry about; that it would go away when I finished menopause; that it would dry up with my periods.” Betty, the middle-aged grandmotherly nurse practitioner who performed my gynecological exams at the holistic clinic which I’d patronized for the last sixteen years, never had given me any reason to think I might have a problem. Every year she announced, “Everything is normal.”
“In cases like this,” Dr. Lance continued, “we recommend an immediate complete hysterectomy—removal of both ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, everything. At your age, it doesn’t pay to leave something and have to go back in a few years to remove something else.”
I was forty-three years old, childless, and never considered myself a candidate for hysterectomy. Instead, my husband, Bud, and I hoped for a premenopausal baby.
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About the Book
For 16 years, the author was a patient at a clinic run by doctors associated with the American Holistic Medical Association (AHMA) who claimed to treat the “whole person” – body, mind, and spirit. As a Christian, this “whole person” philosophy initially appealed to her; however, 16 years later, she realized how completely she had been duped by their unorthodox medical practices. They had subtly brainwashed her to believe she could control her life – and her health. Their advice was not healing; it was destroying her health – body, mind, and spirit.
For eight years the author was prescribed iron tablets and iron shots for a “stubborn case” of anemia. When she finally referred herself to a hematologist in late 1981, she learned she never had had iron deficiency anemia; she suffered from a hemolytic process – the anemia of infection and cancer. Her hematologist referred her to a gynecologist who, two weeks later, suspecting ovarian cancer, scheduled her for a hysterectomy. This surgery probably saved her life.
After surgery, she thought all her physical complaints would end, but the mystery continued to deepen as new, unexplained symptoms plagued her. With the help of God and her new medical doctors, the mystery was finally resolved – another condition created by her holistic healers. This story is the author’s personal struggle back to “wholeness” once she realized the harm her holistic doctors’ unholy practices had inflicted on her body. The journey back to health was puzzling and often depressing as she struggled through the anger and rage of being deceived by medical professionals she trusted. Only with the help of new, competent doctors and a lot of prayer was she able to achieve wellness and forgive her unscrupulous doctors.
About the Author
Once the author realized how unprofessionally her doctors had treated her, she wanted to expose their unholy practices to prevent other unwary patients from being similarly duped. She wrote an article published in the Journal of Christian Nursing, exposing their deceptive practices. Later, the National Council Against Health Fraud (NCAHF) used her article to respond to inquiries about holistic medicine. The article also became a chapter in a textbook for high school and college health classes.
Questioning why she was so easily duped by these charlatans, research lead her to believe this is a highly organized medical “cult” that preys upon its patients’ medical ignorance, thus allowing the use of unconventional medical practices to make their patients sick.
A friend, who after seeing a resurgence in New Age “alternative care” health practices, urged her to finish writing this book to expose the fraud practiced by holistic medicine.