No One Knows You Like You

On being your own health advocate.

Three friends of mine recently told me about side effects they experienced from prescribed medications. In each case, a doctor prescribed too high a dose or the wrong medication — causing too much change, and not for the better.

One friend had been on a drug for high blood pressure for decades, feeling the downward tug of the medication, limiting his endurance, and affecting his tennis game (God forbid). In a casual conversation with a doctor, he found out he might not have high blood pressure at all. He might actually have something called “White Coat” syndrome—a condition where blood pressure spikes in the presence of a doctor. My friend researched it further and realized that that is exactly what he has. He had been on an energy-sapping, tennis-hindering drug for decades. “I coulda been a contender,” he told me afterward.

Another friend was on a similar drug at such a high dose that the doctor asked him, “Have you been passing out lately?” The day after he took a reduced amount, he experienced a marked difference. I saw him that day at the park and barely recognized the lively, talkative, and engaging person he had become.

And another friend’s wife, in her mid-eighties, had been suffering from memory loss—not an uncommon thing at that age. But she, too, had been on a blood pressure medication, that, once switched, unexpectedly resulted in her becoming much more alert and aware. It’s too early to tell, but it appears that part of her memory challenges were related to the drug she was on.

After hearing that last example this past Saturday, I was sobered. I was shocked at how life-altering, and in each of these cases, life-limiting, these drugs can be.

Our medicines are powerful. Our pharmaceuticals can cause great good, but also great harm. ‘Rx’ doesn’t make them inherently good.

Even though I worked in the pharma field for ten years, and understand how the substances work, I’ve become wary. I’m going to give greater care to anything I put in my body. I’m going to become my own health advocate.

I will carefully monitor the effect of any substance on my mind and body. I will observe it like a scientist. I will actually take notes in a journal. I’m not going to become a hypochondriac, but I will become a student.

I will not be afraid to question my doctor. I will press him. Then I will fact-check him. I recently used “Deep Research” in Chat GPT to access all the latest thinking on a condition I’ve struggled with my whole life. I asked him (Chat GPT, to me, is a him. I’ve named him Chaz.) to research extracts and small studies, not just double-blind trials, which can be very limiting. And the results were astounding. Very helpful. I’m working through various suggestions and the early results are promising.

I will be an active participant in finding the right dosage for my body. Like no one else, I know my constitution, my metabolism, and what a lightweight I am. I will titrate the heck out of anything I take — because I know FDA-approved dosage charts are often the same for the 6’8” male as the 4’10” female.

I think we might have delegated too much of our healthcare to others. To doctors, who, in my opinion, are some of the best trained and objective professionals in our lives. But they are overworked and see literally hundreds of patients each month. Think about it: hundreds. I can barely remember a conversation I had last week, much less monitor the side effects of someone I saw for 20 minutes.

So who is left to advocate for our health? You. Me.

No one knows you like you. No one knows the lift you feel when you exercise or the drain you feel after a heavy meal. No one feels that slight pinch on the inside of your right knee. No one knows how you burp after eating broccoli and cauliflower. No one knows you like you. And no one ever will.

So, this is my takehome.

I will remain wary of Rx.

When I need them, I will stay in charge, study my dosage, carefully observe side effects, and arrive at the minimum effective dose.

When possible, I will let food be my medicine, as Hippocrates, the father of medicine, said 2,400 years ago. And, as my mom always espoused, I will eat the rainbow.

And hopefully I will arrive at the ideal use of modern medicine while avoiding the life-limiting pitfalls. I won’t say I coulda been a contender ... I will have been a contender.