by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jan 29, 2016 | Healing Stories, Health, Medicine, Meditation, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Philosophy, Self-care, Self-reflection, Stress
I’ve come to see my migraines as an internal measuring device for wellness, or rather, lack of wellness—kind of like a very painful meat thermometer. From time to time I get bouts of low energy compelling me to spend more time doing low-key activities. However, quick browses through Facebook show me busy colleagues achieving great things and I feel guilty about my relative inaction. A little voice pipes up. “Your body is telling you to rest”, it says. “But if you just started doing things, you’d probably feel more motivation”, voices another, its opponent, the devil on my shoulder. A war ensues and then a headache settles it all. I take it easy for a while, while I’m literally knocked out of commission, in the dark, on the couch with an icepack on my head.
L came to me for fertility, which is another litmus test for good health. When the body is struggling against some sort of imbalance or obstacle to wellness, it will not spend its resources readying eggs, ovulating and ripening uteruses. Our bodies protect us from the metabolic demands of having a pregnancy, which in our current stressed-out, unwell states we probably wouldn’t be able to handle, by simply not getting pregnant in the first place. And so, infertility is a nice entry-way to healing—patients are motivated to examine the effect of their lifestyles on their wellbeing.
The problem was, however, that L barely had time to make and attend her appointments. When she did manage to come in, she was in a rush. She’d often cancel follow-ups because she hadn’t followed through with the previous visit’s plan, even though it had been weeks before. She also reported working 50-hour weeks and staying up early into the morning to work on projects. I wondered, if she couldn’t even make an hour-long appointment with her naturopathic doctor, how would she manage growing and then giving birth to and then raising a brand new human? L simply might have not been ready to heal. Something in me fought to give her my professional assessment; in order to have the baby she wanted, she might have to give up, or significantly let up on, the demands of her job. However, how could I have made such a statement? I held my tongue and tried my best with the modalities at my disposal. We did acupuncture, CoQ10, PQQ and herbal remedies. We worked on sleep and did stress management with adaptogens. In a few months, despite the high demands of her lifestyle, L was pregnant. She still has trouble keeping her appointments with me. L’s body may now be functioning fine, but is it thriving?
Workplace wellness programs teach employees how to survive the 60+ hour workweeks in the office by doing yoga at lunch and eating healthier cafeteria food. They’re taught about stress management and, in the best of cases, given adaptogens and B-vitamins to help their bodies’ sails weather the stress-intensive storms of office life. It’s a great investment, these programs proclaim, because employees are happier, more efficient at their work and take less sick days. Workplace wellness programs keep their employees functional but, I wonder, can anyone really be well working that many hours a week?
When it comes to the health strategies we promote as a profession, how many of them are geared towards healing and how many of them are really just there to help us function?
At this stage in my career, I often have to gauge what my patients want. There are some people who come in ready to heal. They want to search for and address the real root cause of disease, no matter how elusive it may be. They are also willing to do what it takes to get better, even if it means a significant lifestyle shift. Sometimes these patients are at a point where things have gotten so bad that they have no other choice, however some of them simply intuit that the symptoms arising may be conveying a greater message; in order to be truly healthy, things might have to change. Most patients, however, come in looking to “feel better”—they simply want their symptoms to go away so they can get back to their daily lives, lives that might have made them sick in the first place. In our pharmaceutical-based Therapeutics and Prescribing exam, the goal of therapy in the oral cases was always to “restore functioning”, as if our patients were simply pieces of machinery; our parts are worn, maybe broken and we’ve gone decades without a decent oil change, but the factory declares we must get back to work as soon as possible and so we break out the duct tape. With this mindset, however, are we simply placating our bodies long enough to keep working until we eventually succumb to the next thing, a debilitating headache instead of mild fatigue, or something even worse? How long can we go suppressing symptoms or getting our bodies into decent enough shape before we realize that what we really need is some honest-to-goodness authentic healing?
Jiddu Krishnamurti, Hindu philosopher and teacher once said, “It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” How much of our health marketing and wellness efforts are aimed at cleaning out the cogs in a jammed up machine so that they can go on turning smoothly again? The thought that real healing might mean dismantling the entire machine might be too radical for our society to handle. How can we address the problem of making a living if we acknowledge the fact that our lifestyle, or job, might be making us sick?
A therapist I work with (doctors need healing too!) once told me that mild to moderate depression is a sign that something in your life needs changing. “Look at the symptoms of depression,” She told me one afternoon in her office, “You lose the energy and motivation to keep going with your routine. You stop being social; all of your energy turns inwards. You focus your attention on your self and your life so that you can examine what about it is making you unhappy. Then you change it.” Then you change it, a scary thought. No wonder a tenth of the population opts for anti-depressant medication, which in some cases might be the medical equivalent of dusting oneself off and heading back to work. And, while they seem like more benign options, St. John’s Wort, B12 injections and 5HTP may not be that different.
A friend and I were talking about this very topic. He remarked that at a fitness retail store he worked at he’d often ask his female customers, “What will you be needing these yoga pants for today: form or function?” When I laughed at the shallowness of it all, he protested, “Well, some people are just going to use them to sit in coffee shops while others want to actually work out. What’s going to make your butt look great won’t necessarily be the best choice at the gym. I had to know their motivations.” Are most of our wellness efforts aimed at making our butts look great or are they filling a functional purpose?
I wonder if I should follow my friend’s lead and outright ask my patients, maybe on their intake forms, “Are you looking to truly heal today or do you just want to feel better and get back to work?”—form or function? Being candid with them, might help me decide when to schedule follow-up appointments. At any rate, it would definitely open up a conversation about expectations surrounding decent time-frames for seeing “results” and what true healing might look like for them. The trouble is, restoring functioning, if not easier, is more straight-forward. You make some tweaks to diet, correct some nutritional deficiencies and boost the adrenals or liver. It’s the medical equivalent of filling in potholes with cheap cement—it might not look pretty, but now you can drive on it. Healing, however, is more complex. It’s more convoluted, hard to define and get a firm grasp on. It is also highly individual. It might mean ripping up the entire road, plumbing and all, and building a new one or, even better, planting grass and flowers in the road’s place and nurturing that grass on a daily basis. Healing might be creating something entirely new, something that no one has ever heard of or seen before. Creating is scary. Creativity takes courage, and so does healing.
No matter what it might look like, I believe healing begins with a conversation and a willingness to look inwards, without judgement. Healing also requires an acceptance of what is, even if the individual doesn’t feel ready to take actions to heal just yet. Healing deserves us acknowledging that something is a band-aid solution. Healing definitely demands listening, especially to the body. Therefore, healing might begin in meditation. It might start with a mind-searing migraine that lands you on the couch and the thought, “What if, instead of reaching for the Advil, I just rested a little bit today?” Healing might just start there and it might never end. But, if it does, who knows where it might end up?
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jan 7, 2016 | Asian Medicine, Book, Book Review, Diet, Docere, Education, Evidence Based Medicine, Exams, Healing Stories, Health, Medicine, Narrative Therapy, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Philosophy
A singular narrative is told and retold regarding medicine in the west. The story goes roughly like this: the brightest students are accepted into medical schools where they learn—mainly through memorization—anatomy, physiology, pathology, diagnostics, microbiology, and the other “ologies” to do with the human physique. They then become doctors. These doctors then choose a specialty, often associated with a specific organ system (dermatology) or group of people (pediatrics), who they will concentrate their knowledge on. The majority of the study that these doctors undergo concerns itself with establishing a diagnosis, i.e.: producing a label, for the patient’s condition. Once a diagnosis has been established, selecting a treatment becomes standardized, outlined often in a cookbook-like approach through guidelines that have been established by fellow doctors and pharmaceutical research.
The treatment that conventional doctors prescribe has its own single story line involving substances, “drugs”, that powerfully over-ride the natural physiology of the body. These substances alter the body’s processes to make them “behave” in acceptable ways: is the body sending pain signals? Shut them down. Acid from the stomach creeping into the esophagus? Turn off the acid. The effectiveness of such drugs are tested against identified variables, such as placebo, to establish a cause and effect relationship between the drug and the result it produces in people. Oftentimes the drug doesn’t work and then a new one must be tried. Sometimes several drugs are tried at once. Some people get better. Some do not. When the list is exhausted, or a diagnosis cannot be established, people are chucked from the system. This is often where the story ends. Oftentimes the ending is not a happy one.
On July 1st, naturopathic doctors moved under the Regulated Health Professionals Act in the province of Ontario. We received the right to put “doctor” on our websites and to order labs without a physician signing off on them. However, we lost the right to inject, prescribe vitamin D over 1000 IU and other mainstay therapies we’d been trained in and been practicing safely for years, without submitting to a prescribing exam by the Canadian Pharmacists Association. Naturopathic doctors could not sit at the table with the other regulated health professions in the province until we proved we could reproduce the dominant story of western medicine—this test would ensure we had.
Never mind that this dominant story wasn’t a story about our lives or the medicine we practice—nowhere in the pages of the texts we were to read was the word “heal” mentioned. Nowhere in those pages was there an acknowledgement about the philosophy of our own medicine, a respect towards the body’s own self-healing mechanisms and the role nature has to play in facilitating that healing process. It was irrelevant that the vast majority of this story left out our years of clinical experience. The fact that we already knew a large part of the dominant story, as do the majority of the public, was set aside as well. We were to take a prescribing course and learn how primary care doctors (general practitioners, family doctors and pediatricians), prescribe drugs. We were to read accounts of the “ineffectiveness” of our own therapies in the pages of this narrative. This would heavy-handedly dismiss the experience of the millions of people around the world who turn to alternative medicine every year and experience success.
We were assured that there were no direct biases or conflict of interests (no one was directly being paid by the companies who manufacture these drugs). However, we forget that to have one story is to be inherently and dangerously biased. Whatever the dominant story is, it strongly implies that there is one “truth” that it is known and that it is possessed by the people who tell and retell it. Other stories are silenced. (Author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie describes this phenomenon in her compelling TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story”).
Despite the time and money it cost me, taking the prescribing course afforded me an opportunity to step outside of the discouraging, dominant story of the standard medical model and thicken the subordinate stories that permeate the natural and alternative healing modalities. These stories began thousands of years ago, in India and in China, at the very root of medicine itself. They have formed native ancestral traditions and kept entire populations and societies alive and thriving for millennia. Because our stories are not being told as often, or told in the context of “second options” or “last resorts”, when the dominant narratives seem to fail us, the people who tell them run the risk of being marginalized or labeled “pseudoscientific.” These dismissals, however, tell us less about The Truth and more about the rigid simplicity of the singular story of the medical model.
It is frightening to fathom that our body, a product of nature itself, encompasses mysteries that are possibly beyond the realm of our capacity for understanding. It’s horrifying to stand in a place of acknowledgement of our own lack of power against nature, at the inevitability of our own mortality. However, if we refuse to acknowledge these truths, we close ourselves off to entire systems that can teach us to truly heal ourselves, to work with the body’s wisdom and to embrace the forces of nature that surround us. The stories that follow are not capital T truths, however, they can enrich the singular story that we in the west have perpetuated for so long surrounding healing.
The body cannot be separated into systems. Rather than separating depression and diarrhea into psychiatry and gastroenterology, respectively, natural medicine acknowledges the interconnectivity between the body’s systems, none of which exist in a vacuum. When one system is artificially manipulated, others are affected. Likewise, an illness in one system may result in symptoms in another. There have been years of documentation about the gut-brain connection, which the medical model has largely ignored when it comes to treatment. The body’s processes are intricately woven together; tug on one loose thread and the rest either tightens or unravels.
We, as products of nature, may never achieve dominion over it. Pharmaceutical drugs powerfully alter the body’s natural physiology, often overriding it. Since these drugs are largely manmade, isolated from whole plants or synthesized in a lab, they are not compounds found naturally. Despite massive advances in science, there are oceans of what we don’t know. Many of these things fit into the realm of “we don’t know what we don’t know”—we lack the knowledge sufficient to even ask the right questions. Perhaps we are too complex to ever truly understand how we are made. Ian Stewart once wrote, “If our brains were simple enough for us to understand them, then we’d be so simple that we couldn’t.” And yet, accepting this fact, we synthesize chemicals that alter single neurotransmitters, disrupting our brain chemistry, based on our assumption that some people are born in need of “correcting” and we have knowledge of how to go about this corrective process. Such is the arrogance of the medical model.
There are always more than two variables in stories of disease and yet the best studies, the studies that dictate our knowledge, are done with two variables: the drug and its measured outcome. Does acetaminophen decrease pain in patients with arthritis when compared to placebo? A criticism of studies involving natural medicine is that there are too many variables—more than one substance is prescribed, the therapeutic relationship and lifestyle changes exert other effects, a population of patients who value their health are different than those who do not, the clinical experience is more attentive, and so on. With so many things going on, how can we ever know what is producing the effect? However, medicine is limited in effect if we restrict ourselves to the prescription of just one thing. This true in herbalism, where synergy in whole plants offers a greater effect than the sum of their isolated parts. By isolating a single compound from a plant, science shows us that we may miss out on powerful healing effects. Like us, plants have evolved to survive and thrive in nature; their DNA contains wisdom of its own. Stripping the plant down to one chemical is like diluting all of humanity down to a kidney. There is a complexity to nature that we may never understand with our single-minded blinders on.
Studies are conducted over the periods of weeks and, rarely, months, but very rarely are studies done over years or lifetimes. Therefore, we often look for fast results more than signs of healing. This is unfortunate because, just as it takes time to get sick, it takes time to heal. I repeat the previous sentence like a mantra so patients who have been indoctrinated into a medical system that produces rapid results can reset expectations about how soon they will see changes. Sometimes a Band-Aid is an acceptable therapy; few of us can take long, hard looks at our lives and begin an often painful journey in uncovering what hidden thought process or lifestyle choices may be contributing to the symptoms we’re experiencing. However, the option of real healing should be offered to those who are ready and willing.
When we study large masses of people, we forget about individuality. When we start at the grassroots level working with patients on the individual level, we familiarize ourselves with their stories, what healing means to them. In science, large studies are favoured over small ones. However, in studies of thousands of people, singular voices and experiences are drowned out. We lose the eccentric individualities of each person, their genetic variability, their personalities, their preferences and their past experiences. We realize that not everyone fits into a diagnostic category and yet still suffers. We realize that not everyone gets better with the standard treatments and the standard dosages. Starting at the level of the individual enables a clinician to search for methods and treatments and protocols that benefit each patient, rather than fitting individuals into a top-down approach that leaves many people left out of the system to suffer in silence.
It is important to ask the question, “why is this happening?” The root cause of disease, which naturopathic medicine claims to treat is not always evident and sometimes not always treatable. However, the willingness to ask the question and manipulate the circumstances that led to illness in the first place is the first step to true and lasting healing; everything else is merely a band-aid solution, potentially weakening the body’s vitality over time. No drug or medical intervention is a worthy substitute for clean air, fresh abundant water, nutritious food, fulfilling work and social relationships, a connection to a higher purpose, power or philosophy and, of course, good old regular movement. The framework for good health must be established before anything else can hope to have an effect.
The system of naturopathic medicine parallels in many ways the system of conventional pharmaceutical-based medicine. We both value science, we both strive to understand what we can about the body and we value knowledge unpolluted by confusing variables or half-truths. However, there are stark differences in the healing philosophies that can’t be compared. These differences strengthen us and provide patients with choice, rather than threatening the establishment. The time spent with patients, the principles of aiming for healing the root cause and working with individuals, rather than large groups, offer a complement to a system that often leaves people out.
There are as many stories of healing and medicine as there are patients. Anyone who has ever consulted a healthcare practitioner, taken a medicine or soothed a cold with lemon and honey, has experienced some kind of healing and has begun to form a narrative about their experience. Anyone with a body has an experience of illness, healing or having been healed. Those of us who practice medicine have our own experience about what works, what heals and what science and tradition can offer us in the practice of our work. Medicine contains in its vessel millions of stories: stories of doubt, hopelessness, healing, practitioner burnout, cruises paid for my pharmaceutical companies, scientific studies, bias, miracle cures, promise, hope and, most of all, a desire to enrich knowledge and uncover truth. Through collecting these stories and honouring each one of them as little truth droplets in the greater ocean of understanding, we will be able to deepen our appreciation for the mystery of the bodies we inhabit, learn how to thrive within them and understand how to help those who suffer inside of them, preferably not in silence.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 9, 2015 | Art, Balance, doctor as teacher, Evidence Based Medicine, Medicine, Mind Body Medicine, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Patience, Patients, Philosophy
In most service industries, there are certain guarantees. If you go to a restaurant, your soup is guaranteed. At the GAP, you will get a pair of chinos, guaranteed. In lots of instances, you get what you are paying for and in most cases, you get to see if before you hand over your credit card—a coffee, a massage. In many cases, if you’re not satisfied, you can get your money back—guaranteed.
This is not the case in medicine. We cannot legally guarantee results. There are no guarantees.
Everybody and every body is different. Contrary to what it might seem like in our age of paralyzing fear of uncertainty, no one has all, or even most, of the answers.
Dr. Google makes it seem like we do, though.
When I see a new patient who is worried about their health and their future, I want to be able to promise them. I want nothing more than to say, “these breathing exercises will eliminate your anxiety, just like you asked for: poof! gone.”
I want to guarantee things.
I want to tell someone that, if they follow my instructions, they’ll never have another hypertensive emergency again. I want to, but I can’t. No one can. And our job is not to guarantee. It is to serve.
A $10,000 bag of chemotherapy pumped into your arm will not guarantee that the cancer goes into remission no matter how many studies show it has an effect. I can’t promise you’ll get pregnant, even though I’m doing my best, you’re doing your best and science is doing its best.
That’s all I can guarantee: that I will try my very best.
I can be your researcher, teasing out the useful scientific information from a sea of garbage and false promises—false guarantees from those who have no business guaranteeing anything. I can provide my knowledge, culminated from years of study and practice and life. I can sit with you while you cry and hear you share your story. I can let you go through your bag of supplements, bought in a whirlwind of desperation, and tell you what is actually happening in your body—something that doctor didn’t have time to explain. I have time to spend with you. We can have a real conversation about health. I can also make recommendations based on my clinical experience, research and millenia of healing practices. These recommendations will certainly help—virtually everyone sees some kind of benefit—but I can’t guarantee that either.
I watched a webinar on probiotics recently. The webinar sent me into a spiral of existential probiotic nothingness. I’ve been prescribing probiotics for years. I’ve seen benefits from them with my own eyes. Patients have reported great things after taking them and I feel better when I take them: my stomach gets flatter, things feel smoother, my mood gets lighter. Probiotics are wonderful. However, according to the research that was being presented by this professional, which he’d meticulously collected and organized, many things we thought about probiotics aren’t true. I’d have to change my whole approach when it came to probiotics, prescribing certain strains for certain conditions where they’d seen benefit. I remember feeling hard-done by by the supplement companies and the education I’d gotten at my school. How could we be so off base on this basic and common prescription?
At the same time, some skeptics were harassing me on Twitter, telling me that I’d wasted 4 years, that naturopathic medicine is useless and doesn’t help people. Besides having helped numerous people and having been healed myself, their words got to me. What if everything I know is as off-base as my previous knowledge on probiotics was?
The very next day, I called a patient to follow up with her. She’d kind of fallen off the radar for a while. She was happy to hear from me. I asked her how she was feeling, if she’d like to rebook. “I don’t need to rebook,” She told me, excitedly, “I’m completely better!”
After one appointment.
I was astounded and intrigued. Of course, we expect people to get better, but it takes time to heal, and I rarely go gung-ho on the first appointment, there was still lots left in my treatment plan for her. She’d been experiencing over seven years of digestive pain, debilitating fatigue, life-changing and waist-expanding cravings for sugar. It takes a while to reverse seven years of symptoms. It takes longer than a couple of weeks. But her symptoms were gone. She felt energized, her mood was great and she’d lost a bit of weight already. She no longer had cravings.
And she’d just started on one remedy.
Which was, you guess it, probiotics.
Sure, you might think. Maybe it wasn’t the probiotics, maybe she would have just gotten better on her own. Possible, but unlikely. She’d been suffering for years.
Ok, then, you say, maybe it was a placebo effect. Maybe it wasn’t the actual probiotics. Again, it’s possible. She’d tried other therapies before, which hadn’t worked, however and she “believed” in them just as much as the probiotic. And the probiotic made her better.
The point is this: we don’t know. Science is magical. People are magical. Medicine, which combines science with people, is the most magical of all. There are no guarantees.
The point is that anything can make anyone feel better: a good cry, a $10,000 bag of chemotherapy, journalling for 12 weeks or popping a probiotic. Some things have more research behind them. Some things we’ve studied and so we know some of the mechanisms for why things work. But we still have a lot of why’s and we always will. Everybody and every body is different. No two people or two conditions should receive the exact same protocol or supplement or IV bag or journalling exercise or cry-fest. We have no guarantees what will work or what will make you feel better. Just some research papers, some experience, maybe the odd dash of intuition or interpersonal connection and a firm resolve to want our patients to get better. And that’s a guarantee.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Mar 24, 2015 | Balance, Diet, Digestion, Docere, Education, Fitness, Food, Health, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Nutrition, Preventive Medicine
Many health complaints are common, but not normal.
“I take migraine medicine everyday,” boasted L. She then went on to describe her plenitful medicine cabinet that, at the age of 23, she’d stocked quite well. “I get headaches when the weather’s bad, when I forget my glasses, when I’m hungry-” she went on. I repressed my immediate impulse to give her a list of supplements she could take and dietary changes she could make to never have another headache again, and simply said, “Well, L, you know I have a practice in the West end. If you want any more support…You can call—”
“—No, I’m good”, she responded, hurriedly. “I just need to find out how to get more of my medication.” The medication she referred to was high dose acetominophen, or Tylenol. She was taking 1 g pills and her doctor had told her that she could dose up to 4 g per day. Since 4 g will cause immediate liver failure, I was happy to learn she hadn’t needed to get that high… yet. What’s more, she wasn’t treating the cause of her condition. She was just addressing the symptoms, and consequently negatively affecting her health.
To use the car dashboard analogy, when your fuel light comes on and makes a noise while you’re driving on the highway, what do you do? Most people, without giving it another thought, will pull over to address the root cause of the chaos by adding more gas to the car. Very few of us will take out a hammer and smash the dashboard in. In fact, most of us cringe at how ridiculous the thought is. Imagine the entire naturopathic community cringing when they hear about someone swallowing several grams of Tylenol to smash out their migraine.
Pulling the car over to refuel and smashing the dashboard both serve to stop the annoying blinking and beeping of the fuel light. One of them is addressing the root cause and actually paying attention to what your car needs. The other is, well… I’ll let you come up with an appropriate adjective.
So this begs the question: why do we insist on smashing our symptoms away? The fuel light may be annoying, but drivers value its presence as a tool to let us know that we need to refuel lest we end up stranded on the highway without gas. The blinking light lets us know what is going on inside our car.
Why don’t we view our body’s symptoms in the same way?
I have patients who think that their depression is a part of them, or that the painful distention under their belly buttons after eating is “normal”. Sometimes we identify with our physical ailments to the point where they define us, as if it’s our lot in life to have acne or poor digestion or to be overweight—it’s not.
Dandruff, painful menses, seasonal allergies, aches and pains are not “normal.” Sure, they’re common. No, they don’t necessarily mean you have some life-threatening disease, and therefore your family doctor probably doesn’t have a reasonable solution for them, besides smashing at them with the hammers in their toolbox from time-to-time.
When I saw my first ND, I was excited at the idea that, even though my doctor assured me that the random, annoying symptoms I was suffering from were “normal”, they were in fact not normal and something could be done about them. From the ND’s standpoint, the symptoms were an indication of budding imbalances and treating them was preventing more serious conditions down the line. Feeling cold all the time and excessively full after meals weren’t just annoying symptoms, they were important messages from my body that things weren’t all right and that something needed to be done.
Is there an annoying symptom you’ve been experiencing that you’ve come to accept as something you just have to live with?
Contact me to find out what we can do about it!
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Nov 7, 2014 | Medicine, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles
Do you love and believe in naturopathic medicine but feel at a loss to describe it to your family and friends? Despair no more. Those at the YinOva Center in New York have created a cool infographic about naturopathic medicine, which “Alex” was kind enough to share with me. Take a read and feel free to pass it on!
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Apr 18, 2014 | Canadian College of Naturopathic Medicine, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Robert Schad Naturopathic Clinic, Student
When I was in my 2nd year at the Canadian College of Naturopathic Medicine, one of our professors, Dr. Leslie Solomonian, had our class answer 9 reflection questions. Once we had finished she collected them and told us we’d get them back once we were ready to graduate. Last week, during a celebratory lunch for our graduating class, she handed us back our reflections, giving us a chance to look back on the 4 years we’ve spent as naturopathic medical students – especially our 12 months working directly with patients in clinic, putting our naturopathic principles and modalities into practice – in order to realize how far we’ve come. Here are my answers:
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by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Mar 20, 2014 | Canadian College of Naturopathic Medicine, Health, Medicine, Motivation, Naturopathic Principles
I remember sitting in the walk-in clinic. I’d been waiting for over an hour, not to mention the time lost denying my symptoms, waiting until they got bad enough to warrant the visit in the first place. Finally, it was my turn. I walk into the treatment room, where a thin, middle-aged doctor was seated, her hair short and grey, her eyes encased in dark, baggy skin. She didn’t smile. “How can I help you?” She asked, bored already. I began where I thought the story began, at the beginning. I got a few sentences out before she cut me off. I was surprised; couldn’t she see that all this information was relevant? I didn’t just have fatigue, it was a part of me. It was woven into the fabric of my life; it had a back-story. This doctor needed to know when it began, what my life was like at the time, what I’d tried to do to treat it myself, when it felt better, when it felt worse. I didn’t believe she could treat me without that information. Surely it all mattered.
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by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Dec 18, 2013 | Evidence Based Medicine, Health, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Politics, Robert Schad Naturopathic Clinic
Nettle tea: a botanical with the potential to treat acne… and not cause sudden death. Sounds like a sweet deal to me.
How does naturopathic medicine treat acne? Well, it’s quite simple, really. We turn our focus to the root cause of disease. Is there a hormonal component? Is lack of hygiene an issue? Are food sensitivities at play? Is an increased toxic load on the body resulting in an elevated burden on the skin to detoxify? Is there a mental-emotional cause or result of this acne?
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by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Dec 13, 2013 | Health, Lifestyle, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Robert Schad Naturopathic Clinic
When I hear the phrase, “So, Dr. Oz says…” in clinic, I feel like casting my eyes to the heavens and throwing up my arms. Hearing the successful cardiologist’s name means I either need to explain why this particular person doesn’t need to be on that particular supplement, why this caution is not applicable in this person’s case or why a certain treatment that this famous doctor recommends is probably not the best thing for this particular person at this particular time.
It’s great the there is someone in the media who is wildly popular singing natural medicine’s praises. It’s wonderful that people like him, watch his show and get excited about empowering themselves when it comes to their health. However, I have beef with hearing his name mentioned repeatedly in patient visits. The main reason: Dr. Oz is not a naturopathic doctor.
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by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Aug 28, 2013 | Acupuncture, Health, Homeopathy, Meditation, Nature, Nature Cure, Naturopathic Philosophy, Naturopathic Principles, Nutrition, Philosophy, Preventive Medicine
First things first: sunshine, fresh air and clean water.
Contrary to common belief naturopathic doctors are not just doctors who prescribe natural remedies to patients. (This means you can not avoid visiting a naturopathic doctor by going to a local health-food store and prescribing yourself a bunch of vitamins and supplements!) After all, as previously “naturopathic” therapies invade scientific literature, more up-to-date medical doctors are prescribing things like fish oil and probiotics to their patients. However, this doesn’t make them naturopathic doctors any more than prescribing rights make us medical doctors! Naturopathic doctors differ from the traditional medical model not so much in what we prescribe or our principles (do no harm, treat the whole person, prevent disease, doctor as teacher, support the body, treat the cause), which medical doctors arguably share with us, but in something called the Therapeutic Order.
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