Welcome back to Functional Wellness with Dr. Alison. This is the story I never wanted to tell, but the one so many of you need to hear.
In 2019, a doctor yelled at Dr. Alison that she had cancer. No tests. No conversation. Just fear.
The GI who performed her colonoscopy was aggressive and dismissive. After that scope, everything changed. She went from “a little inflammation” to end-stage colitis in 5 months.
When she was dying from sepsis—losing 35 pounds in 3 weeks, hallucinating from pain, with a resting heart rate of 170—her doctor said, “I don’t know what you want me to do for you.”
This episode is about medical trauma, dismissal, and what happens when the system fails you. It’s also about resilience, the lessons learned in the darkest moments, and why Dr. Alison will never dismiss a patient the way she was dismissed.
What you’ll learn:
The three things she wishes she’d done differently
Why meeting your specialist BEFORE procedures matters
How this shaped her devotional approach to functional medicine
Listen Here:
Transcript:
Why I Almost Died From Ulcerative Colitis—And What It Taught Me About Healing
Welcome back to Functional Wellness with Dr. Alison, Medicine for the Body, Mind and Soul. I’m so glad that you’re here and I’m so glad to be back. It’s 2026 and I took a small break from podcasting in 2023 so I could focus on my own healing journey, my own health, my family, my work, and really just needed that space to be able to figure out what I needed in my life. My journey back to health has been pretty long and pretty complicated. And it’s really changed a lot of how I viewed medicine, functional medicine, diet changes, lifestyle, cutting out what’s important, boundaries—all of these things that we need to be able to have a healthy life, a healthy heart, a healthy mind and body. It all goes together.
So if you’re facing health challenges and you’re wondering where to start, what your plans are like, or what to do next—this is the place for you. Today I want to share my story about what happened to me, what I would have done differently to avoid probably colitis, my surgeries if that was possible, losing my intestines, living with an ostomy bag, all of those things. And it’s a lot about being dismissed and dealing with medical trauma and being abandoned in times when I needed help the most, but also having a great team who supported my decisions and worked with me to help me find the best people around St. Louis that I could find.
So I’m so grateful for where I am now. And I honestly only have one regret, which I’m going to share with you. And I’m really proud of the way I was able to handle everything I’ve been through. So let’s start from the beginning.
The Beginning: 2019
In 2019, I went to my primary care physician because I was having bleeding when I was having bowel movements. I knew that I had a family history of colitis and I also knew that my insurance, which was for self-employed people like me, was not going to cover anything. I had already called and asked about pricing for colonoscopies and they quoted me about $5,000—and that was if everything went perfectly.
So it was a little bit out of my price range just to get a scope, let alone see if anything was going on. So I went to my primary care and asked her to help me out. Can we figure out a trial of medication? What would be available to me? And instead of getting support or ideas, I got yelled at for half an hour. She stomped around the room. She told me I was going to die of cancer. She told me all of these horrible things that were going to happen because I didn’t get help soon enough. I’m not sure—I’m never sure what people mean when they say this. She never did any testing. She never did a physical exam. She never offered blood work even. She just said, “You have cancer. You need to go see a GI tomorrow. You need a colonoscopy tomorrow. You’re going to die.” It was just, you know, fire and brimstone essentially.
So she left the office. She called the GI’s office and said they’re going to call you back and they’re going to get you in tomorrow. And so she did give me their number and I called that GI’s office and that GI said, “We don’t even know who your doctor is or who you are or why you’re calling, but fine, we can get you in.” So I was able to see their nurse practitioner who was incredibly kind and helpful, who also did not do blood work or a physical exam and said, “You probably don’t have cancer, but we’ll get you a colonoscopy within the next two months.”
So I had to sit there for two months, terrified that maybe I do have cancer. I was freaked out. I was paranoid and scared. And I was doing all the things that I knew to help heal my gut, but nothing was really working.
The Colonoscopy: January 2020
So two months later, I showed up in January 2020 before everything got shut down. I was exhausted from the colonoscopy prep. It was, of course, as horrible as they all say it is. And I pulled up to this really old office, an outpatient office. There were like a million people in the waiting room. The office had a huge sign in the front showing the doctors that worked there and how far behind they were that day.
And every 15 minutes someone would come up and make that time a little bit longer for my doctor, a little bit longer. And I’d never met this man. And so here I am waiting for a colonoscopy, not feeling good. There’s no bathrooms in sight and now he’s two hours behind. And I was just more and more anxious and the thoughts about cancer just came up. And by the time I got back, I was basically in tears like, “I’m so scared.”
And this man, this doctor who had never met me before, blew me off. He was angry. He was aggressive. He was rude. He was pissed off that I was crying. He clearly didn’t want to deal with me. I got through the scope and came out of anesthesia. The doctor told me nothing was wrong, that he basically didn’t know why I was there. I had just a little bit of inflammation. He gave me a medication that my insurance didn’t even cover and sent me home. Just “nothing’s wrong with you, go away.”
I don’t remember much from waking up from that scope, which was really funny, because every other time I’ve woken up, I remember pretty clearly. But my husband did say that I woke up, tried to get up, tried to make lunch for my two kids. And I was like, “I’ve got to go make them lunch.” And then started singing the theme song from Phineas and Ferb. So at least it’s a little fun. You know, I could have a little bit of fun there.
Everything Changed After That Day
So I went home. The shutdown was happening. Everything was starting to change. After that colonoscopy, I was never the same. I’m a good patient. I took all my medications. He sent me home with prednisone and something else I don’t really remember—probably just an anti-inflammatory to get inflammation under control. I paid $400 a month for the medication that would help with the proctitis or the inflammation in my intestines. And I did what I had to do, right?
From that day, everything got worse. The bleeding got worse, the pain got worse, going to the bathroom got worse, my sleep got worse.
What I Would Have Done Differently
And I’ll stop right here and say what I would have done differently.
First, I would have seen a new primary care physician. I would have gotten to somebody who was more compassionate, more willing to work with me. Even if they had referred me to a GI, which they should have—that would be correct care. You know, maybe they could have given me some warning like, “This would have been a great time to sign up for a different form of health insurance. Do this now before the new year starts.” I was in that realm. Nobody had talked to me about that.
I would have had blood work done—and I should have just ordered it myself, but I think I was too scared. I was too ramped up. I was too afraid, honestly—and checked for cancer markers, autoimmunity, inflammation, to see what’s actually going on.
And third, and most importantly, I would have requested and required to meet this GI before I had gone under a scope. I would never, ever, ever, ever see a male physician, especially not a surgeon or a GI as a female patient. And that is the truth because they did not care about me at all.
The Downward Spiral
Like I said, after the scope, I got worse and worse. I took the medication for—so that would have been February, March, and April. By the end of April, my stomach, my actual stomach was in horrible pain. I couldn’t eat, but I was going to the bathroom all the time. The medication was not working, obviously. I gave it a good three months, 400 bucks a month, and I called his office. I left messages. No one got back to me. No one scheduled an appointment for me.
And finally I called and got a hold of the nurse’s desk and they said, “Oh, well yeah, he heard all your messages. He said”—and I quote—”he does not want to deal with you.” He had no interest.
So by the time June hit and I was running fevers and I was going hot and cold and I was going to the bathroom 15, 20, 30 times a day, he still didn’t care.
The Functional Medicine Trap
So I ended up going to two functional medicine physicians, MDs in this area who promised me a lot of things. They promised me compounded medications would work. They gave me a $7,000 plan that included IVs and gadgets and nutritional supplements and all kinds of fancy things that were promised to work. And I did most of it, not the whole $7,000 plan, but I really put my strongest foot forward to take care of myself and it didn’t work, obviously, because I’m here telling you about it.
By the end of June, my husband finally convinced me to go to the emergency room. Now I have this hopeless, optimistic part about my health. Like, “Well, maybe, you know, today’s just a crappy flare day. I’ll wake up feeling better tomorrow. If I’m perfect, I’ll wake up feeling better tomorrow. If I eat perfect, if I move perfect, if I breathe perfect, if I go to therapy, if I talk about my traumas, if I dance, if I move, if I do somatics—if I do it, name it, I did it.”
And I never felt better because so much damage was done to my body during that colonoscopy. It never recovered.
The Emergency Room
My husband was absolutely terrified. I had lost about 30 to 40 pounds in about three weeks in June. And no one at the functional medicine doctors’ offices—I talked to other doctors—no one said, “Hmm, maybe…” No one looked at me in sepsis with all of this going on and said, “You need to go to the emergency room.” They just cared about the money. “Well, you could get this IV, you could do these shots, you could take this, you should come here and do this.” No one cared.
And I don’t even know what to say—it’s disgusting, it’s predatory, it’s abusive. And even when I had sepsis, they were like, “Well, you could just take colloidal silver.” I’m like, “You don’t take that for sepsis. You need to go to the emergency room, probably be admitted, get IV antibiotics.” But anyways.
I believe that during the colonoscopy, it was so aggressive. And this man who did not care and did not believe me and did not think I had a reason to be there, who just saw a woman crying in pain and fear, decided he didn’t need to take care of me. So I call that my environmental trigger. So I went from “you have just a little bit of inflammation, there’s nothing wrong with you” to end-stage colitis in five months with sepsis and heart failure.
So when I went to the hospital, I got through the emergency room. I was hallucinating. I didn’t realize it then, but I was hallucinating in that emergency room. I had sepsis. They admitted me. That GI who refused to deal with me came around and said, “I don’t know what you want me to do for you.”
And I was like, “Well, I have colitis. Can I try a different medication? Can I try something?”
He’s like, “No, you need another scope.”
I’m like, “No, this is what got me here in the first place. We already know what’s wrong with me. I need a different medication that’s going to work.”
He said no. And he sent me home with sepsis and heart failure. And that was it.
Going Back
So I think I lasted about a week and a half before the pain was so excruciating that I had to go back to the emergency room. And I’ve had two babies naturally at home. And I was like, “I’d rather give birth to all the babies in the world because at least you have a baby at the end and the pain is building towards something. This is just pain for pain’s sake.” I can’t even go into the depths of how horrific everything I went through was, but I think you get an idea, right?
So I went back to the hospital—and here’s my first mistake. I shouldn’t have gone back to the same hospital. When I got there, they admitted me again. They looked at everything. Of course, I had a CT scan. “Yep, full colitis flare, and you’re still in sepsis, and you’re still in heart failure.”
I said, “I need a second opinion.”
They said, “No, it’s too political. We can’t get you a second opinion.”
And thank God my husband came in and he can be pretty scary. And sadly, most women know, you need a man in the room with you to get medical care. So he came in and demanded a second opinion and they were like, “Okay, fine, we’ll try.”
The Second GI
So I had another male GI come into my room. He listened to my story. And he told me I didn’t deserve care. He told me I waited too long for help. I don’t know what that means. He told me I was dumb for not having health insurance, that I should have gotten a job. He told me I was dumb because I didn’t know my phone is a computer and I could just get insurance at any time. And he told me he had no problem putting me out on the street and making me homeless, ruining my life and ruining my family. And that was it. He told me I needed another colonoscopy.
And I said no.
And the next day he came back, not with his head down, but like, “Oh, well, I talked to the nurses. They said that you can’t get insurance until November when it opens up.”
I was like, “Yeah, I know. I already know that. What are my options?”
And he gave me a ton more medication. And I went to go ask him a question. And I remember I had my IV pole and I’m in my clothes and I’m hunched over and I’m walking past him. He’s at a computer and he’s looking at my colonoscopy result from January. I asked him whatever question I had to ask him. And he’s like, “These are your results.” And he’s looking at the pictures. He’s like, “I can’t even tell what areas of the intestine these are. They’re not even labeled.”
And I’m looking at the screen and each picture has a letter on it—A, B, C, D—and above it is a diagram of the intestines with labels A, B, C, D. There were tons of pictures, tons of labels, and it was very clear where each picture was coming from. I cannot, to this day, understand why this man, this doctor who does colonoscopies for a living, who works with the other doctor, couldn’t look at a colonoscopy report and figure out what was going on. And that’s when it clicked for me. “Get out of here.”
So he sent me home too. And this whole time, my heart’s having such a hard time. My resting heart rate was 170. And you might be like, “I don’t know what that means.” A normal resting heart rate is between 60 and 80. I was on constant heart monitors. No one ever cared about the sepsis and I was sent home again.
So I kept losing weight. I kept dealing with sepsis. I kept getting more and more sick, obviously.
Finding Someone Who Listened
So I ended up going to a different hospital. And that hospital saved my life. Honestly, I met with a female GI. I had to go through the ER by the time I got in the next day. And she came in, she listened to me, and she said, “All right, Alison, I hear you. I believe you. We have to do a scope because something’s clearly more wrong. I’m worried if there’s a perforation or something else. But,” she goes, “we’ll use pediatric equipment on you. We’ll go very slow. We’ll be very gentle. Clearly there’s something going on with your anatomy that needs to be careful.”
I was like, “Well, if you talk to me that way, I will let you take care of me.”
And that is how every female GI has worked with me since that day in July 2020. They’ve listened, they’ve gone slow. They’ve been kind and gentle. They’ve been understanding of my situation.
Long story short, as expected, that colonoscopy showed that my entire large intestine was dead. End-stage colitis, almost no coming back from that. It was very scary. And honestly, I have no idea what the plan was to keep me alive. I’ve talked with my husband a lot about this over the past year or two, like, “What was the plan?”
They couldn’t give me medication because I didn’t have insurance that would cover it. Because you know, you see those commercials like, “Well, it’s only a $5 copay if you have major medical insurance.” So one of the main companies—Remicade—it was $40,000 per treatment that I would need every six weeks. So what was I going to do? What were they going to do?
I know they may have talked about surgery, having an ileostomy surgery, but I don’t remember that. I know I probably said no, but I know they wouldn’t do that without having insurance coverage. That was a very expensive surgery.
So they wanted me on Humira, which was about $15,000 a month. And obviously I couldn’t do that. They couldn’t do that.
My Husband Saved My Life
In a stroke of luck, my husband—sitting at home with two kids on his own while I’m in the hospital for weeks at a time—found a grant from the company who produces Remicade for $20,000. So I got my one shot. That covered half the bill, which is insane. And that medicine saved my life. I got my infusion at the hospital and I went from going to the bathroom every 30 minutes to three hours, to six hours. And that sounds—it was like heaven. It was the weirdest thing.
We worked with the hospital, social work came in and they said that the hospital system would be able to give me infusions for free at their infusion center because I qualified and that was it. And I got released from the hospital on medication, mostly stable and went to their infusion center every few weeks to get my medicine that kept me alive and functioning.
And that’s the story of my colitis.
Looking Back
And you know, looking back, knowing what I know now, I wish I had never gotten that first colonoscopy. I wish I had found a way to fight it more naturally. I wish I had been 10 times more aggressive with what I had done with my diet, my lifestyle. I probably would have been carnivore for months, probably for the rest of my life, because it really did help me when I was in flares. But I didn’t know as much about it in 2018, 2019 when I was having these problems before the scope.
So many new things have come on the scene, I feel like, in the past few years that can help support autoimmunity. I didn’t know about TH1 and TH2 and how taking certain herbs were making me feel worse because I thought I was doing all the right things. But as we learn, we grow. And as we grow, we apply that wisdom and that’s all we can do.
And I am still proud of myself for all that I’ve gone through—for advocating for myself, for examining my mindset and my paradigm around health and healing, for asking for help, for trying everything from natural holistic to every medicine on the face of the planet, it feels like.
The Next Few Years
So over those next few years, from basically the end of 2020 to February of 2022, I was on the same medicine and it worked. I regained my health. I got to go back to the gym. I lost probably 50% of my hair and wore wigs for a while. If you know me, you might know that phase. You’d probably say, “Oh, you look really different right now.” I do. I’ve kind of given up on wearing wigs, but you know, it worked.
And the blessing part of that is that my insurance gave me home health infusions because it was cheaper to have a nurse come to my home, give me an infusion at home, and then leave. So that was fantastic as well. Now the infusions were difficult. I mean, not the actual infusion part, but the fatigue and the joint pain and everything else that came along with that. But my colitis was under control and I really honed in on diet and lifestyle and everything else.
The Second Mistake
So in 2022, the second mistake happened—which is first of all, not my fault. My insurance said, “We’re going to change the medication that you’re allowed to have. It was using generic, but we’re going to change it to this brand. And it’s only one or two molecules off. It’s not a big deal.”
And it failed. I went right back into end-stage colitis. My body was like, “No, that was our thing.” So just one little change changed my entire immune system’s reaction, disrupted my whole system and everything started to fail.
So I had a new GI and a whole new team at this point who were all just absolutely wonderful. And she said, “What if we try a new medication? Because one, we can get rid of all those nasty side effects that you’re having from the infusions and see if something else would work.”
And what I didn’t know at that time is once you go off of a biologic for your autoimmunity, you kind of can’t go back on it. So if I had known that I wouldn’t be able to go back on it, I probably would have stayed on it because the next set of medications failed. Nothing was helping. And I didn’t know that I’d have to be on steroids for a year—I think methotrexate for a year—to manage my immune system if I wanted to go back to the original medication that was working. I didn’t really want to do that.
The Last Medication
So now we’re about two and a half years later. So maybe around August of 2023, so about a year and a half, I started a new medication that was helping. It was actually the last, I think the second to last one or the last one I was allowed to have that was available to me. And it worked. I felt better. But then my chest and my lungs started to hurt.
I was like, “This is weird.” I went to the emergency room because I was having horrible chest pain, having all of the heart attack signs and no, no heart attack—healthy, healthy, healthy, healthy.
Told my GI who was like, “Eh, you’re being one of those patients today.” I was like, “Oh, that’s weird. I wonder why she said that.” And then she quit and went to a hospital system. I was like, “Oh, she was probably done.” You know, at the end of your job, you’re like, “I’m done dealing with these people.” I understand, I guess. But she told me I was being anxious and just oversensitive. I’m like, “Okay.”
So as time went on on this new medication, colitis was better. But I stopped being able to walk, stopped being able to move. I developed POTS. I had to use mobility aids to get around. I had a rollator. I had to sit down. I couldn’t go grocery shopping anymore. A quick trip to go pick up something from a store required me being able to sit down before I passed out. My muscles atrophied. I couldn’t work out. I couldn’t hike. I couldn’t drive. I was a mess.
And I don’t remember, but I do think I told my GI at this point, the one who took over my care, who’s also wonderful, “I think I need to get off this medicine.” They said, “Let’s do a trial. Let’s take a break for two weeks.” I think that was it. “Let’s see how you feel.”
And at the end of those two weeks, I felt like myself again. I was like, “Holy cow.” I have a picture of me and my son back at the park. I was like, “I’m back. Oh no, it’s the medicine. What are we going to do?”
Because then the colitis came back full force and I got sent back to inpatient for a week to get the colitis under control.
The Surgery Decision
And I will probably never forget this, but the tornado alarms were going off. I’m in the hospital. The colorectal surgeon walks in and she goes, “Girl, it is time. We have to get these things out of you. You have to get rid of this intestines.” I was like, “Wait, what?” I didn’t know. But over the years with all of these medications, there’s no research on women and biologics, believe it or not, right? Nobody here is surprised.
But I developed fibroids and adenomyosis and all types of issues with my uterus. It was so inflamed and enlarged that it was causing so many problems. And I wish of all the people that I complained to on my medical team, I had demanded an ultrasound because I had no idea what was going on. They’re like, “It’s just GI, sorry, nothing you can do.” Who knew that I had horrible fibroids and problems growing in my uterus?
So my colorectal surgeon came and talked me through what it would look like to have my large intestines removed to get rid of the colitis, have an ostomy bag. And she also said, “We can do your uterus at the same time because that thing is bad.”
And there were no more medications left for me. And you know what? That was so scary. I went back in the hallway because a tornado alarm was going off. And I bawled my eyes out and everybody’s out there looking at me and I just huddled down in a corner and nurses came over and rubbed my back and made sure I was okay.
It was the last thing I wanted. It felt like a failure. It almost was a failure. But you know what is a failure? The medication not working—not necessarily my body. It was about failure of my body to respond to the medications. Absolutely. But something had to be done and there were no more medications available on the market. There was one, but it wasn’t being distributed yet. So I can’t even talk about that one.
So my choice was to die from colitis, wait until it hit end-stage, go through the whole sepsis thing again, or have the surgery and have an ileostomy bag. And you know what? I got through it. I got through the surgery and I did it and it saved my life and changed my life.
What This Experience Taught Me
And this whole experience has really changed how I look at medicine because a lot of people come to me and say, “Oh, I don’t want to be on medicine. Oh, isn’t it horrible? All these people on medication.” I’m like, “Hey, you know what? The right medication at the right time for the right issue is what’s needed because the root cause of my colitis was damage from a colonoscopy combined with genetics that then were primed to destroy my colon and lack of treatment.”
Had I been treated correctly—we can talk about insurance, all the things—but that medication saved my life. And so I’m so grateful that I was able to have a few years of life after that diagnosis and surviving sepsis. And looking at my numbers, I think I had a 10% survival rate based on what I experienced.
So right medication, the right time, the right place is what’s important. And there’s no shame in needing medication to be balanced. And that’s okay because sometimes the root cause is not something that’s fixable, right? We can’t go in and fix your genetics or manage things that are out of our control. And that’s okay. You can do your best with what you have, try everything, but at the same time, we still need to take care of our bodies. And that may look like medication, surgery, therapy—let’s go down the list, right? But from the medical world, it’s okay. And we need to really get rid of the shame. And that’s why we have therapy to help us out with that, right?
Living With Chronic Illness
And then I had my last surgery in 2025, believe it or not. So that one was also an extreme surgery and it’s taking a while to heal.
People and my patients will call me or in some appointments like, “You’re so positive, how do you deal with all this? You’re just living your life, you’re going out hiking still.” I don’t see it as having a choice because I can sit at home and be miserable, which I am, be in pain, which I am, have to go to work, which I do and I love, absolutely love, and take care of my kids and go outside and take care of my body to the best of my abilities. So yes, we have to do all the things. Yes, it sucks. There’s no way around that. And at the same time, doing what you can to really take care of yourself.
So nothing about this path of chronic illness, autoimmunity, difficulty being diagnosed, difficulty finding a provider that’s actually going to care about if you live or die—it really does come down to that—it’s challenging. And then living with having to do the work every single day is depressing. It’s frustrating. It’s scary. It’s difficult. And I cannot sit here and say, “It’s no big deal if you have to do scar tissue work every day, or if you have to think about having surgery, or if you have to do physical therapy every single day, or if you have to take these medications with these side effects.” None of it’s okay.
It’s difficult and it’s okay that you’re having a hard time. Please find someone to talk to, get the support you need, have a community if you can, because there’s no—what do we call it?—toxic positivity, which you can’t toxically positively get your way out of this and go, “Today I’m not in pain. It’s fine,” when you are in pain. Or, “Oh my gosh, this medication has the worst side effects,” and try to talk yourself out of side effects. You can’t do that. I couldn’t talk myself out of hair loss and psoriasis and all the other things that came along with it.
So it’s just part of how we have to take care of our body, our mind, our spirit as well.
The Reality of Treatment
What sucks is that all those lifestyle changes I did barely put a dent in the symptoms I was dealing with. From perfect eating to keto, to carnivore, to vegetarian, to vegan, to pescatarian—nothing, nothing changed. Taking every single supplement, I did all kinds of colon therapy, short-chain fatty acids, nutritional enemas, probiotic things—I mean, big compounded pharmacy things. I got to every functional route that I could, did every single test that I could. And it was really thinking about my disease was triggered by that colonoscopy. There was no going back.
And sometimes when we hit that point in our health, it’s not only frustrating, but it’s scary because we now have to live with this new body, this new way of being, this new way of existing, this new way of eating, this new way of walking, this new way of sleeping to manage our everyday life. And it takes a lot of effort and power and consistency and even money because look at all of these functional tests that cost so much money that are so ridiculous, or the supplement programs, or the people who are paying for IV medications and all kinds of things. And let alone health insurance—my surgery, I think the end quote was about $200,000 just for the one in September of last year.
So we need so much more support than we think we do. We need so much more time.
We Keep Going
Okay. So I know it feels impossible, but what I do know is that we keep going. We keep trying. We don’t give up. And this is why I’m back because I really feel called to share my story, to share the little bits of wisdom that I’ve learned, to share some empathy and compassion and for you to go, “Yes, I’m not alone. And I’m going to be okay, and there’s new tools, and there’s new ways of thinking, and there’s new paradigm shifts,” or really, we come back to the old things as well, the ancient methods of healing that will work for you, your gender, your biology, your needs. And talk about the differences in our bodies and what one person may do great with, you may not do.
So I really want to bring that information to you so you don’t feel like nothing’s going to work, or the things that you’re told are going to work don’t, and then they are telling you something’s wrong with you—that’s not right either. That’s not right either.
You’re Not Alone
So if this story resonates with you, share it with someone who needs to hear it or save this podcast. I’m here to support you, to be that person who listens to you, respects you, orders the right testing for you, gets you the referrals that you need to the people who are going to help. That is my goal.
When you’re ready for that deeper support, for someone to walk you through the functional medicine side, alongside the medical path, the spiritual path, the energetic path, the therapeutic path, right? Be part of your team. That’s where I come in. So you can find me, Dr. Alison, at LittleBlackBagMedicine.com. And let me know what you want to hear in this podcast, what topics you’re interested in. I would love to hear that.
And before we go, I just want you to place a hand on your heart. Take a deep breath in with me.
You’re not invisible. Your pain is real. Your body is not the problem. It’s trying to protect you, trying to support you the best it knows how.
So until next time, take great care of yourself. Be present, be gracious, and be loved.
Ready for personalized support? Schedule a consultation at LittleBlackBagMedicine.com
Connect with Dr. Alison:
- Website: LittleBlackBagMedicine.com
- Instagram: @littleblackbagmedicine
- Facebook: Little Black Bag Medicine