through the port seven days a week for the following four months, but to no avail. Another few rounds of various oral antibiotics were tried, but nothing seemed to help.
By the time Susan came to our center in Naples, Florida, it was very clear that she had almost reached the end of her rope. The desperation in her voice was palpable. Her life was devastated. She was overwhelmed by fatigue, body aches, and a new symptom that had started a year earlier, profound sensitivity to various chemicals. Just passing by a person wearing perfume or aftershave was enough to cause a debilitating headache and even more confusion.
At that point we reviewed the rest of her medical history; aside from a few minor ailments over the years, nothing stood out to provide any meaningful clue to what might be causing this severe condition. Nor did her family history provide any revelatory information. Indeed, her mother confirmed that before the onset of the initial illness, Susan was healthy and enjoying a wonderful relationship with her husband and children.
The standard physical examination added very little insight, with the exception that her blood pressure was a bit low. The neurological examination, which is a more in-depth assessment of various functions of the nervous system, also revealed no abnormalities. Then, as has been my practice for many years, I evaluated her pulse, not in the standard way of counting the beats and checking for a normal rhythm but rather from an Ayurvedic perspective.
Many years ago I was trained in Ayurveda, a system of traditional medicine that dates back to the ancient Vedic period in India. The word Ayurveda is derived from the Sanskrit ayus , meaning “life,” and veda , meaning “science” or “knowledge.” While I have never considered myself to be a true practitioner of Ayurvedic medicine, nonetheless the pulse diagnosis training has served my patients very well, often providing diagnostic clues when none was otherwise apparent.
And Susan’s pulse did tell a story. The Ayurvedic pulse gives information about the three doshas, or energies— vata, pitta, and kapha —that correspond to the energies of wind or air, fire, and earth. The sense I got from Susan’s pulse was like a cold wind blowing through a tree that had no leaves to capture and hold the energy. Basically, it felt as if she were “disconnected” from the energy forces blowing through and around her.
I left the examining room and began to review her previous medical reports and laboratory studies—and they were extensive. Interestingly, aside from a very mild anemia, her studies showed nothing to explain her symptoms. Even the blood tests for Lyme disease, which had been repeated several times before, during, and toward the end of her antibiotic treatment, were all normal. Susan and her mother had brought MRI scans, which we reviewed together. Once again, everything looked fine.
When I returned to the examining room, I observed that Susan had displayed all of her numerous nutritional supplements on the examining table. Obviously, along her journey, she had visited a number of complementary medicine practitioners, and each had seemingly given their best advice in hopes of getting her back on her feet.
“Before we go through your supplements,” I said, “let me share my thoughts.”
I started by giving Susan and her mother an overview of the medical records, including telling them that the Lyme panels were normal, which clearly surprised both of them. I discussed the MRI scans as well as the reports given by the various other practitioners. I then sat back a bit and began to explain my ideas as to why she was so incapacitated.
“I do not have a name for your illness,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”
I told Susan that the issue ultimately compromising her health was centered on energy. I explained how mitochondria provide energy to the body, and that, for whatever reason, perhaps the initial