https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/how-it-feels-to-treat-your-own-mystery-illness-9lmt5d2x5
Mentions ME a lot, but then it turns out he didn't have it. It's very confusing and makes some false statements.
“I must say,” he said, “you don’t strike me as particularly depressed.” “No,” I agreed. “Because that’s what we normally look for in situations like this, where the condition might be chronic fatigue.” The two words fell with a thunk at my feet, like a dropped bag of potatoes. “Or ME, as it’s sometimes known, although the two are quite different,” he noted. Of course I had heard of ME, or myalgic encephalomyelitis. Or at least the crude headlines. It was a relic from the 1980s, wasn’t it? Yuppie flu. Afflicts the highly driven, the rapaciously ambitious. All in the mind — not a medical condition per se? Later, on Google, I dredge up facts: that more than a million Americans have it, 600,000 Brits and rising. There are endless internet entries with the word “controversy”. A hardcore element of purported sufferers insist ME is caused by a virus, rather than being a psychological problem as prominent doctors have suggested. It is a condition that makes a lot of people angry.
And
I’m at an NHS hospital where a doctor tells me I don’t have the right symptoms: depression, aversion to bright lights and loud noises. It’s more likely a T-cell deficiency, but unclear. “It’s good news,” she says, though there’s no straightforward treatment for it anyway. What do I care what it’s called? It is fatigue and I have come round to my new reality. I spent a full year immersed in the world of alternative healthcare before deciding my plan had reached its natural conclusion.
There's a whole load of nonsense about how he cured himself with yoga.
Mentions ME a lot, but then it turns out he didn't have it. It's very confusing and makes some false statements.
“I must say,” he said, “you don’t strike me as particularly depressed.” “No,” I agreed. “Because that’s what we normally look for in situations like this, where the condition might be chronic fatigue.” The two words fell with a thunk at my feet, like a dropped bag of potatoes. “Or ME, as it’s sometimes known, although the two are quite different,” he noted. Of course I had heard of ME, or myalgic encephalomyelitis. Or at least the crude headlines. It was a relic from the 1980s, wasn’t it? Yuppie flu. Afflicts the highly driven, the rapaciously ambitious. All in the mind — not a medical condition per se? Later, on Google, I dredge up facts: that more than a million Americans have it, 600,000 Brits and rising. There are endless internet entries with the word “controversy”. A hardcore element of purported sufferers insist ME is caused by a virus, rather than being a psychological problem as prominent doctors have suggested. It is a condition that makes a lot of people angry.
And
I’m at an NHS hospital where a doctor tells me I don’t have the right symptoms: depression, aversion to bright lights and loud noises. It’s more likely a T-cell deficiency, but unclear. “It’s good news,” she says, though there’s no straightforward treatment for it anyway. What do I care what it’s called? It is fatigue and I have come round to my new reality. I spent a full year immersed in the world of alternative healthcare before deciding my plan had reached its natural conclusion.
There's a whole load of nonsense about how he cured himself with yoga.
