I used to think healthcare worked like clockwork. The system moves you along — you don’t question the process. It felt safe. But that illusion broke slowly.
Then the strange fog. I blamed stress. And deep down, I knew something was off. I watched people talk about their own experiences. The warnings were there — just buried in jargon.
That’s when I understood: your body isn’t a template. The same treatment can heal one and harm another. Damage accumulates. And still we keep swallowing.
Now I question more. But because no one knows my body better than I do. I challenge assumptions. It makes appointments awkward. I’m not trying to be difficult — I’m trying to stay alive.
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