Honestly, I find it completely baffling that a doctor can't provide a definitive answer on whether she’s pregnant or not. If he only performed a physical exam, that’s hardly sufficient to make such a call—even if the uterus feels enlarged upon palpation. On the other hand, if he actually ran an ultrasound, there should have been something visible beyond just an enlarged uterus. In my own experience, my period was only a few days late, yet the moment I had an ultrasound, there was a tiny little dot right there—about the size of these smiley face emojis over here. That was the embryo. It was clear. Based on that tiny speck and the fact that my cycle was only three days off, my doctor concluded I was about two or three weeks along. By that logic, this girl should have definitely seen something on her scan too. Furthermore, the doctor failed to clarify his actual process: did he just rely on manual palpation, or did he actually perform an ultrasound?😕
Carl Brooks2 said:Does anyone have any insight into this condition? Is it actually possible to live a normal life while dealing with this? What should I be eating, and more importantly, what should I avoid? I’m looking for firsthand accounts. How do you manage the symptoms?
Does anyone here know anything about pigmentary retinopathy?
Thanks.
A friend of mine lives with Celiac disease, which is essentially an intestinal issue because the gut can't handle gluten. It means she has to stick to a strictly gluten-free diet—so no wheat flour, no cookies made with gluten, no wheat bread, no pastries containing wheat flour, no pasta made from wheat flour... Honestly, if you accidentally eat something like that, you won't die; at worst, you'll deal with some cramping and bloating before things settle down again. Basically, when you're grocery shopping, you just have to become an expert at reading labels to check for gluten content. You can live a perfectly normal life with this; you just have to be somewhat disciplined about your food choices.
Patrick Cruz26 said:It isn't a frequent occurrence. To be honest, the last time happened was just a few days ago, and as for the time before that... I can't even recall. But if this keeps happening periodically, is that actually alright? Thanks for clarifying. It’s just that every single time it happens, I find myself convinced that my time is up and I'm about to drop dead. 😁
Look, take my word for it: as long as this isn't happening repeatedly throughout the day, everything is perfectly fine.
Susan Diaz91 said:I just received referrals for some dental X-rays and hip scans... standard radiology stuff.
Now, I find myself wondering, if I am planning to start trying for a baby in about two months, is having these X-rays done before conception dangerous for the mother? And is it even advisable for women who are actively planning a pregnancy??
Furthermore, if I do decide to go through with the imaging, should there be some sort of waiting period before attempting to conceive???
If anyone has any insight, please share..
In my estimation, a two-month buffer is more than sufficient given your timeline. To provide an example from my own experience, I underwent a CT scan just a few days before I went into labor, and everything turned out perfectly fine. I also had an X-ray taken the day after delivery; however, because I was breastfeeding, I wasn't permitted to see the baby for 24 hours to allow the radiation to clear my system. So, in your case, you should be fine.
It’s perfectly normal for this to happen occasionally—it's part of being human—but if it becomes a recurring pattern, you really ought to schedule an EKG and an echocardiogram. It’s better to be proactive and rule out any underlying arrhythmia or similar cardiac irregularities before they become actual problems.
Karen Young17 said:you’re looking at a month-long wait just to get seen at the local VA hospital 😛
If you go through private providers, you can basically get a quick consultation without any of the extra testing required by the state $83—it's much like how you can walk into a Mayo Clinic outpatient center and get an appointment almost immediately if you have the means
Benjamin Gray33 said:Thanks. I honestly had no idea. I was taking some Plivadone for the pain, but the ache finally receded. Now it’s just this sharp cutting sensation when I sit down, and that’s about it. Someone is trying to tell me Aspirin is a good option, but if it thins the blood, it’s definitely out of the question for me.
The hospital switched me over to Voltaren because after that first painkiller, my blood pressure plummeted to 80/55. They assumed it was an adverse reaction, moved me to Voltaren, and frankly, I'm grateful. I remember vividly how I started asking for it at the slightest sting, mostly because it takes a full hour to kick in, and I spent far too much time tossing and turning from the agony. I ended up getting about 12 Voltaren injections over five days. It sounds excessive, but I think I would have lost my mind without them.
As for now, I’ve been taking Detralex to manage the heavy bleeding, and after two days of aggressive dosing, those torrents of blood have finally dwindled down to just a couple of drops by my seventh bowel movement today. Great. Maybe I shouldn't have gone through with the surgery after all. Perhaps I could have managed those initial bleeds with just Detralex. God, what a fool.😂
Aspirin is effective for pain and actually provides cardiac protection since it can help prevent a heart attack, but there's a catch. If you're going to use Aspirin, Ketorolac, Ibuprofen, or Voltaren—though, honestly, you really shouldn't touch those if you're worried about hemorrhaging, regardless of whether your surgical wound has healed—then you absolutely must take them on a very full stomach. Never on an empty one. Personally, I’d suggest sticking to things like Tylenol or anything acetaminophen-based; they tend to be more forgiving, and while you can take two at once, you still shouldn't overdo it. Always read the labels. As for that blood pressure drop, it was likely caused by whatever Analgin they gave you, as that stuff is notorious for tanking your pressure. Also, just so we're clear: for someone in your position, Aspirin and Andol are essentially the same thing.
Honestly, I am at a total loss regarding what her actual medication regimen is. She makes such an effort to conceal what she’s taking; I have to catch her in the act of pulling a box from the cabinet just to memorize the names. This morning, while I was dropping off some groceries, I spotted a new box of San Francisco brand pills sitting right there on the table. From what I know, her doctor only prescribed her basic acetaminophen. Now I feel a sense of regret for not paying closer attention to what they were administering to her back at the hospital. It was mostly injections. To top it all off, she vomited three times during the night. When I suggested we head to the doctor this morning, she flatly refused, claiming the physician would just scold her for being "too sensitive." She is a good friend of mine and lives alone, so my intention is purely to help, but her stubbornness is immense. I am certain she is playing a dangerous game with these medications. She insists she has pored over every single instruction manual and indication sheet—that she knows exactly what she is doing—yet when I asked to read them myself, she refused to let me see. I know she has been on Tramadol for months to manage her migraines. Furthermore, since she sources everything through a network of friends and relatives, I suspect she will eventually move on to fentanyl. She even approached me to ask if I could somehow charm her doctor into digging up a prescription just so she could sleep through the night, which I firmly declined. Since then, I have been persona non grata whenever I try to inquire about her treatment. Sandra Martin72, what would be the most effective option for postoperative hemorrhoid pain?
Look, we used to administer Tramadol and acetaminophen via injection—acetaminophen less frequently, Tramadol more often. I find it hard to believe the pain is truly that excruciating; if it were, she should be seeing a doctor, because experiencing that level of agony following surgery seems somewhat atypical, though I don't know exactly when her procedure took place. As for those specialized bandages, those are really only reserved for terminal patients. San Francisco is intended for sleep. In my estimation, she needs to see a psychiatrist; she appears mentally unstable and seems to have developed a psychological dependency on pills. Tramadol is supposed to be highly effective, so it makes little sense why she is mixing it with everything else—it implies she is in unbearable pain, which I find difficult to credit. If you genuinely want to assist her—and I believe she needs it—try visiting her doctor directly. Speak with them, explain the situation regarding the sheer volume of pills she is swallowing, and suggest that this may have transitioned into a psychological issue. See what their professional take is. Regardless, pain lasting two weeks post-op is suspicious to me. Tramadol has a long duration of action, so we never administered more than three injections a day. And what about her blood pressure? Does she have hypertension? Why is she taking Lacipil? It strikes me that she might be spiraling into a depression, given how she rejects both the doctor and your attempts to discuss this, and depression is a dangerous path. You might also help by speaking to those friends of hers, if you know them, and explaining the gravity of the situation so they stop supplying her. They likely think they are being helpful, but they are actually enabling her. I suspect the physical pain isn't the primary driver here, but rather something deeper. She needs medical intervention.
Kenneth Lee16 said:Alright, care to elaborate on this high blood pressure thing? Honestly, I doubt that's it—I'm pretty young... and even when the ringing starts, I'm not feeling particularly stressed or anything
Youth offers no immunity. There was a case where a seventeen-year-old girl passed away while waiting for a doctor because she showed up feeling unwell, only for it to be discovered later that her blood pressure was dangerously high. It is the silent killer. It wreaks havoc on your kidneys and your heart. If you aren't consistent with your medication, you're looking at a potential heart attack or a stroke. Aside from the tinnitus, other symptoms can include hand tremors, seeing spots, or even nosebleeds.
Why is she taking Lacipil? Is there high blood pressure involved? If not, there’s really no reason to be on it; if her pressure drops too low, she could start seeing spots and end up collapsing. Analgin is an option, as is Tramal, but both are heavy hitters. Even with something like Analgin, you have to watch out because it can tank your blood pressure regardless of its classification as an analgesic. Then you have Voltaren and Ketonal—she shouldn't be touching those at all. In fact, people who have undergone surgery for hemorrhoids should steer clear of Ibuprofen and Andol as well. These medications dilate the blood vessels, which increases blood flow and can trigger bleeding. Generally speaking, these types of drugs are contraindicated for anyone dealing with stomach or intestinal issues, hemorrhoids, ulcers, or colon polyps, because the risk of hemorrhage is real, even if the surgical site has already healed. For patients in those categories, we usually turn to Tramal or Analgin, but as I mentioned, they are potent, and Analgin specifically can cause a drop in blood pressure. That is just my take, coming from my experience as a nurse working in a gastrointestinal intensive care unit.
Kenneth Lee16 said:I think I saw a thread about this once... usually caused by blasting music back in the day or working long shifts around loud machinery without proper ear protection, etc...
Health-wise, I’m fine—never had any issues before. But lately, when I’m lying in bed at night, everything is dead quiet and there’s absolutely nothing going on, I start hearing this constant tone in both ears. Honestly, I don't even think I'm "hearing" it so much as it's just stuck in my head.
Has anyone actually heard of or read anything about whether this can be cured?
p.s. if you don't have anything useful to add, just move along—I can hear better than most of you, I'd bet on that.
Tinnitus—that persistent, maddening ringing in the ears—isn't always just some phantom sound born from nothing. It can actually be a physiological red flag. One common culprit? High blood pressure. When your hypertension starts climbing, the increased force of blood pumping through your vessels can create enough turbulence to manifest as that rhythmic or steady buzzing in your head. It’s much like the hum you might hear from a pressurized water pipe in an old apartment building when the pump kicks into overdrive; if the pressure is too high, the system starts making noise. If you're experiencing this, don't just ignore it as a nuisance; it's worth looking at your cardiovascular health.
Please, for the love of God, can we all just migrate over to that other forum? I need to stay updated on everything regarding CIN I, II, III, and HPV—it’s vital! I actually have a question concerning Kantian oil as well, but I've already posted it elsewhere.
Matthew Reyes said:🙂 Thanks for all the suggestions, everyone! I was wondering, do you usually just book an initial consultation first—especially if you've never actually sat down with a gastroenterologist before—or does the office just go ahead and schedule all those tests right away? Also, has anyone here ever been to that gastro clinic over on Langston?
I haven't been there myself, but the standard procedure at places like CityMD is quite straightforward: you simply book what is necessary. If you need an initial exam, you schedule the exam, and if anything else comes up, the doctor will advise you accordingly. If you specifically need a gastroscopy, you just book that. It’s all very transactional and follows a set logic.
ruggedpanther64 said:I've been dealing with this cough for about two weeks now, and frankly, it’s becoming quite irritating. I don't have a fever, I'm not feeling fatigued, and my energy levels are perfectly fine—I can function normally—but the coughing persists. It feels like I'm clearing out small amounts of white phlegm here and there, though it seems like the more I cough, the less actually comes up, as if nothing is truly "ripe" enough to clear. To manage, I’ve been having fruit juices and honey every morning, alongside my regular meals. I don't smoke myself, though I do spend a fair amount of time around smokers. I've never had any history of lung issues... is there any actual reason to be concerned?
It could be anything from a common cold to bronchitis or perhaps an allergy. Generally speaking, any cough that lingers beyond the two-week mark warrants a professional opinion. You should go see a doctor.
I’ve been taking chewable tablets for a month now. My hemoglobin levels are still low, so the doctor wants me on them for another month. Since Christmas is coming up, I’m holding off on seeing the doctor until after the holidays pass. I’m following the regimen—eating and taking everything prescribed. Once my vacation is over, I’ll head back to the clinic. My iron levels look great now, but she gave me more just to ensure my body builds up a reserve. It’s a good thing these labs were done a month after I stopped the iron supplements; otherwise, the results wouldn't reflect the pills, but rather the fact that my body had finally recovered on its own. She explained that ointments and creams won't cut it because they only address inflammation, and while I don't have inflammation, I am bleeding. I have to make sure my stool stays soft so it doesn't scrape the walls and rupture capillaries that then start bleeding. All in all, I can finally get scheduled with a surgeon. She gave me the number and told me that once I get an appointment, I should come back to her for the referral. In the meantime, I’m staying busy—hitting the soccer field, going to the gym, and even starting dance classes with my girlfriend. Basically, I'm incredibly active and in top shape. I actually met a guy who had his hemorrhoids operated on at a private clinic: it cost him less than 10 $0.00, you show up in the afternoon, sit down, everything smells like inflamed skin, you sleep it off, and you’re heading home the next day. That sounded like a perfect option, except it was way too expensive, so I decided to stick to the public healthcare channels in the hopes of saving some money. Eventually, I get my appointment and see the surgeon. He performs a manual exam and an anoscopy (a magnifying tool inserted about 5 or 6 cm deep), and confirms the hemorrhoids. He asks if I want them operated on. I say yes (I assumed it would be a standard, almost outpatient procedure—something slightly more complex than clipping a fingernail). The doctor looks at me like I’m crazy and goes, "What?" I tell him, "Yes!" He immediately calls a colleague to ask if he can do it tomorrow. I told him not quite tomorrow. He says fine, Monday it is (it was Thursday). He tells me to contact the anesthesiologist, get a coagulation profile done, and check back Sunday afternoon so the anesthesiologist can examine me again. I say okay. After that, nobody tells me anything else. I find out from a nurse, almost by accident, that I need a referral from my primary doctor for both the anesthesiologist and the hospital stay. I felt like a total idiot. My doctor is also sending me for an EKG and mentioning some kidney checks due to the surgery. The bureaucracy and administration treated me like a complete amateur, but that’s a whole different story (thanks to the revolution in healthcare led by Hebrang; the guy acted like he just landed from Mars when he tried to fix our mess. I don't want to judge anyone, but the man could have learned from the mistakes of larger nations instead of repeating these absurd, forced procedures. Just pathetic).
PHASE VI
So, I arrive at the hospital. Nothing new there; I was there three months ago and they poked and prodded me then, too. There isn't much left that can surprise me. The nurse sticks the IV needle in my vein, and I just lie on the bed like a log. I basically just collapsed (SHOCK 1). Alright, moving on. They give me a enema to clear things out, I fast, they prep me, give me a sedative, and I head into the operating room. Inside the OR, it's dead silent. Two anesthesiologists administer regional anesthesia into my back. They position me like a pregnant woman in a movie, and then a team of three doctors plus a few nurses spend nearly an hour in heavy silence pulling and stretching things. I ended up counting about 1,700 little holes in the perforated tin ceiling. The silence was briefly broken when the surgeon said, "Let me do it, don't do that, we're going to complicate things unnecessarily." I don't know what that meant, but I assume the procedure wasn't exactly routine or easy. I return to my room from the OR feeling completely disoriented from the anesthesia. I can't feel my legs. As the anesthesia starts wearing off, I begin to feel my hips. They give me a pain injection in my shoulder, and suddenly, I’m soaked. A million sensations seem to exit my body at once. Three nurses jump up, and two doctors on call stare at each other like two confused bulls—they have no idea what's happening. My blood pressure is 80/55. The nurses are rolling their eyes, and then one doctor finally gathers enough courage to run two IV bags at maximum flow to bring everything back to normal (SHOCK 2). Because of the IV fluids, I desperately need to pee. My bladder hurts, but because of the anesthesia, I can't contract my abdomen to use the urinal. I toss and turn all night, straining. I woke up twice with the urinal positioned right there, but nothing happened. It wasn't until later that I finally managed to go, but I strained so hard that a brown, foul-smelling liquid leaked out. What did I do? They had placed a dissolving medicated tampon inside, so maybe that's normal—maybe. I didn't manage to walk for about 12 hours. The people in my room who had undergone similar surgeries told me stories along these lines: they come in today, have surgery tomorrow with one anesthesiologist and one doctor, listen to music and joke around in the OR, and in the recovery room, the regional anesthesia wears off in 3-4 hours and they are home the next day. Now, you compare that to my experience. The morning after the surgery is normal. I drink water. At noon, the physical therapist gets me up to walk. I look at her, totally confused, but she insists, so I get up and manage to do it. Great. Now I can finally try using the actual toilet.
PHASE VII
It was around 1:00 PM, lunchtime. I was having some soup—finally, a little something to show for it. Then, halfway through the broth, something went wrong deep down south. I figured it was just more bleeding. I looked down, and there was blood running all the way to my knee. I hauled myself up and headed to the nurse at the station to have her take a look. She cleaned me up, bandaged me, and told me it was nothing to worry about. Since I was already on my feet, I decided to head to the restroom to relieve myself—about 50 yards down the hall. Suddenly, the urge hits me; that inevitable bowel movement I’d been waiting for (the surgeon told me he wouldn't discharge me until I had my first real movement, so I was supposed to be home by now, yet here I am stuck in the hospital). I lean over the toilet, and suddenly, about half a liter of blood, thick with clots, just erupts out of me. My mind goes straight to the worst-case scenario: I thought my intestines had ruptured and everything was just spilling out. (SHOCK LEVEL 3). I scrambled up, pulling my pajamas between my legs to try and stem the flow, and limped toward the door calling for a nurse. It happened right during visiting hours. The hallway was packed with strangers. A nurse finally appeared, wrapped me in a sheet, and helped me back to my bed. Then the surgeon arrives and inserts a probe to stop the hemorrhaging. They clean me up and change the linens. Twenty minutes later, they push me again. Within two minutes, I’m back in my bed, practically swimming in clotted blood. It was everywhere, from shoulder to knee. The surgeon just shakes his head and rushes me straight back to the OR. This time, I got full anesthesia. I was drifting off, but before that, I had to deal with the tube; since I’d actually eaten some soup, they had to pass a tube through my nose down to my stomach—can you believe that? Just a thin tube shoved through the nasal passage into the gut. I woke up to the sound of bed frames rattling; they were bringing me back. They had cleaned me up and managed to plug the leak. Apparently, the blood had filled the entire intestinal tract all the way up to the stomach. Then they tightened things up and cleared it out. It was 1.5 meters of bloody tubing. As I recover from surgery, the pain starts hitting me in waves. They clean me, then they push me again, and once more, the blood comes pouring out. I’m literally shaking from the agony. I have to wait for the surgeon to see this mess, but he’s tied up in the OR. I’m lying there facing the wall, shivering like a leaf, while the phone rings—I can’t even tell who I’m talking to. Apparently, my girlfriend was right there by my side, but I don't remember it. After a while, the surgeon finally shows up and tells me it was just residual buildup in the system. They clean me out, monitor my blood pressure and hematocrit, and give me some Voltaren for the pain. Because of that, I ended up spending another six days in the hospital under observation. We finally waited out that first bowel movement. The pain... it feels like a glowing coal is lodged in my backside. That sensation only started fading a month after the operation. The immobility, the diapers, the creams, the Voltaren, the antibiotics, and the endless injections—it turned me into an old man overnight.
PHASE VIII
I’ve been home for a month now. The absolute worst part has been the "false alarms." One time the urge hits, and I rush to the bathroom, only to find myself needing to go five or six more times within two hours—and those last few times, it’s nothing but blood. You see, the area where the hemorrhoids were operated on is essentially a dense cluster of nerve endings. That’s why the surgeon had to leave those smaller hemorrhoids alone; he needed the tissue and nerves to regenerate over the next six months. It’s not just that that I bled or suffered; now, even when I do nothing, I’m still bleeding. Apparently, those smaller ones have flared up. Now, I still have to go to the bathroom 5 or 6 times, but at least there aren't the same agonizing cramps. The movements happen naturally, I don't force them, so there isn't any blood. The surgery was a classic "under the knife" procedure. Looking back, I wonder why I didn't just bite the bullet and invest in a more modern approach so it wouldn't hurt this much—you know, the laser stuff so you could be home the next day. But my doctor explained that with the laser, you only cauterize the top layer while the bottom stays to regenerate, meaning there’s a 95% chance they’ll come back. With the traditional surgery, there's a 75% chance they stay gone. Honestly, if they come back, it doesn't matter because I'm still dealing with them anyway. And the diet? Forget it. No red wine, no alcohol, no prosciutto, no shrimp—nothing. Maybe I'll allow myself a little something on special occasions, but life has definitely changed. It feels like my childhood motto is following me to the grave: "I survived chickenpox." I spent a week at home itching, crying, and suffering. Once I finally felt better, my mom took me out for dessert, and that’s when the itching started again. Chickenpox again? No. I’d had measles first, and now chickenpox. Some things you just can't predict, and some things you can't outrun. You just have to learn to accept them and keep moving forward.
Greetings to everyone on the forum. If anyone has questions, feel free to ask.
Look, I can only tell you this much: you absolutely should not have been taking Voltaren, and you shouldn't touch it now either. The same goes for Ibuprofen, Advil, or Ketorolac... they all act as vasodilators, widening your blood vessels and increasing blood flow, which means if you're already bleeding, you’re just going to bleed even more. For pain management, stick to Tylenol, Panadol, or Excedrin; they are much gentler. Those other drugs are essentially potent anti-inflammatories, and that's dangerous right now. If you don't want to bleed out, stay far away from them. You could potentially use Analgin, but only if your blood pressure is perfectly normal, because that stuff can cause a massive drop in pressure—so if yours is low, skip it entirely. This isn't just an opinion; I'm telling you this as a nurse who worked in the ICU specializing in gastroenterology. In our unit, we weren't even allowed to hand out Voltaren casually. Honestly, I have no idea what kind of fool would have prescribed those to you, but moving forward, don't take them—even if the bleeding seems to have stopped—unless you want to end up hemorrhaging again.
Angela Gonzalez72 said:Could someone please walk me through this pathology report? I'm incredibly anxious, and honestly, nobody is giving me any straight answers...
Needle biopsy of the left breast, hypoechoic changes monitored via ultrasound. Intermittently, small clusters of low-columnar epithelial cells are visible, exhibiting moderate anisonucleosis and nuclear overlapping, alongside significant histocytes, phagocytes, traces of connective stroma, capillary endothelium, frequent lymphocytes, blood elements, and debris. The findings are consistent with atypical hyperplasia of the mammary glandular epithelium accompanied by inflammation in the organizing phase.
...I can tell this isn't exactly "good news," but I need to understand what it actually translates to in plain English... is this suggesting breast cancer, or what exactly?
Look, I don't see any mention of carcinoma or anything malignant here. Given the inflammation noted in the report, you might need a round of antibiotics, but your primary care physician is the one who will give you the final word. Give them a call if you don't feel like making an appointment, but if there were any sign of cancer, they would have explicitly stated it in the report.
Matthew Reyes said:Hey, does anyone have any recent experiences with private gastroenterologists or specialized GI clinics around Chicago? I’d really appreciate any tips or advice you guys could throw my way... 🙂
I'd suggest checking out the Mayo Clinic over in the suburbs; they have two specialists on staff. One of them is only available on Saturdays because that's when they handle endoscopies under sedation, while the other works a more irregular schedule—I'm not entirely sure which days he's in since his hours vary—but their work is top-tier. One is a specialist from the East Coast, and the other comes from somewhere out West, I believe.
Sophia Cook4 said:Apologies if this thread isn't strictly for Health topics... moderators, please feel free to move this elsewhere. Since I relocated to New Zealand a while back, I’ve been looking into transferring my medical records from the Silet Springs community clinic. I would appreciate any recommendations for a gynecologist, a dentist, or a general practitioner within that facility. 🙂
For dentistry, you absolutely can't go wrong with Dr. Krajačić. As for general practice, I used to see Dr. Javorić, though I eventually switched providers because I moved over to the outskirts of town and wanted to cut down on the commute. Regarding a gynecologist, I wouldn't know—I use the main downtown medical center for that. However, the dentist there is a total genius (and quite easy on the eyes, haha). I was very satisfied with Dr. Javorić, assuming she's still taking patients; to be more precise, she does work there, but Dr. Buhin often covers her shifts while she pursues further specialization—I believe it's in family medicine or something similar. Regardless, her care is solid. The dentist sees patients in the mornings on odd days and afternoons on even days—at least, that was his schedule when I was there, and I doubt he'd change it now. Dr. Javorić operates on the opposite schedule.
I’d honestly suggest you go see a psychiatrist. I ended up seeing one myself because of my health anxiety—that constant, gnawing fear that something is physically wrong. After spending years in medical school, studying every possible ailment and its gruesome complications, I was stuck in this loop of dread, convinced I was either dying or about to face some catastrophic illness. I couldn't just let those thoughts rot in my head; they were too intrusive, so I sought professional help. For a little while, I was on medication designed to boost serotonin levels, and once that fog finally lifted, I tapered off and I've been fine ever since. It felt like a necessary phase of my life. So, please, go see a mental health professional. Let’s be clear: there is absolutely nothing shameful about it. In the US, seeking therapy is practically a lifestyle trend, whereas elsewhere it might still be treated as a taboo, but if you seek help privately, nobody else even needs to know. You’ll simply feel better. To me, the fact that you’re even acknowledging this struggle suggests it’s something worth taking seriously.