Dr. Roni’s Story

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 Roni DeLuz
American writer

Many people have asked me about my story, why I do what I do, how it all started           and How I do what I do. I didn’t set out to become an expert on either weight-loss or detoxification. In the spring of 1990, I was an ordinary woman living an ordinary life.          I was 35, married, a mother and happily following my calling as a registered nurse.

We lived in Southern California, where my husband at that time and I also owned and  operated 3 nursing homes providing healthcare to medically fragile and developmentally disabled children and adults. However,  unbeknownst  to our staff  and patients,  I had begun experiencing medical problems of my own.

I noticed  I was getting occasional headaches that, over time, became more frequent.  Since,  I was very busy at home and at work,  I just chalked it up to stress and popped       an aspirin.  No big deal,  I thought.  Then,  I started feeling a little pain in my joints— nothing too uncomfortable or disabling. I would ignore these indications  something      was wrong, down another aspirin or Tylenol and go on about my life.

Little by little things started getting worse. My joints started aching; my muscles      began     to hurt;  I started  having night sweats;  my heart started racing.  I did not       sleep for days even though I was exhausted.

I sought help, beginning with my internist, who did not know what was wrong, so suggested I see another doctor.  Over the course of several years,  I saw close to thirty physicians: my primary, different neurologists, immunologists, a rheumatoid arthritis expert, several heart specialists, a psychiatrist, a gastroenterologist.

None of them could figure out what was going on. Was it lupus? Multiple sclerosis? Cancer?  A bone disease?  Chron’s disease?  A boatload of viruses?  Over time different doctors suspected many ghastly,  horrible things,  but nobody  was certain about what   was happening to my body.

At first, they also told me to keep taking pain medications to relieve my symptoms.

Then they started handing me prescriptions: antibiotics, arthritis meds, steroids.

At one point I was taking thirteen different drugs, the worst being Methotrexate a         drug used for chemo- therapy. In the meantime my symptoms kept getting worse           and instead   of occurring individually they started happening all at once.

Before long, whatever was going wrong with me took over my body and life. I lost             my appetite.  I lost weight.  I was so constipated and very nauseous most of the time.        My thinking became slow and muddled—sometimes my brain was so foggy that it felt     like I was stuck in a Coca-Cola bottle and couldn’t get out.  My body was bloated; my      skin hurt and so did my eyeballs.  At one point  it felt like bugs were crawling all over       me. Needless to say, as my body and life spiraled out of control and I sunk into a deep depression. I had basically become bedridden.

On one of the rare days that I dragged myself out, I apparently drove in circles for hours while taking my daughter Whitney to Nursery school.  Her school was only 2 blocks from our home.  When I snapped out of a deep fog,  I had no idea where I was,  where I’d been or where the time had gone. That’s when I knew something was desperately wrong. I also admitted to myself that I had a serious problem.  I knew that if I didn’t get help,  I would be in serious trouble and possibly lose my daughter.

You might wonder how someone like me could find myself in a situation like this. As          a nurse and a nursing-home owner and administrator,  I certainly knew a lot of doctors.     I, of all people, should have been able to obtain proper care. So it would seem.

But like many people who develop a chronic illness, I had unknowingly strayed onto    what healthcare providers secretly call “the sick wheel”:  you go from doctor to doctor    none of whom knows exactly what’s wrong or has the complete picture of what’s going    on, though each prescribes an additional medicine.

When you’re on the sick wheel, you end up taking drug after drug, one for the physical symptoms you originally showed up with, then another to cover up the symptoms, or side effects, the first drug causes.  After a while your kidneys start hurting from trying to filter the man-made chemicals from the first two drugs out of your system. The kidneys are like the body’s trashcans,  filtering waste and toxins from the blood,  creating urine, helping to regulate blood pressure, however, they aren’t designed to process synthetic substances like pharmaceutical drugs, pesticides in your environment or chemicals in your food and water.

Once they start aching the doctors typically prescribe a third drug to mask those symptoms. Before long, you have to take a fourth to cover up the symptoms caused by    the third one.  You reach a point where so many things are going wrong with your body that no one really knows what the problem is: the drugs or the disease.  Many people in   the medical community know this cycle by a more ominous name: the “death ceremony.” It’s only a matter of time before the synthetic ingredients in the drugs wreak havoc inside your body, which becomes burdened with substances it wasn’t designed to process and, therefore, experiences as toxic.

Eventually, these chemicals exhaust the kidney and liver. My eyes turned yellow a serious indication that my liver was not working at optimal level. Many people end up on dialysis or a transplant list because medicine has damaged their organs.  And lots of folks actually die of so-called  “side effects” rather than of the disease they’re being treated for.  In fact, the fourth leading cause of death according to the Food and Drug Administration is cited as “Adverse drug reactions.” Not surprisingly, people become depressed as they lose their quality of life and hope.  Full Story ==>  http://mvholisticretreat.com/dr-ronis-story/ 

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