When I was a teen and going through my 20's, I had pretty typical expectations for my healthcare. Sick? Go get some antibiotics. Time for my annual exam? Grit my teeth and deal with it. Painful cycles? Just take a pill. When I had an abnormal pap? I fearfully wanted them to fix it, and fast.
When I had a second abnormal pap a few years later, I moaned and thought "ugh, here we go again." My husband urged me to see an herbalist for a second opinion, and it could not have been a more different experience.
Madelon Hope, who would go on to become one of my beloved mentors, lives in a creaky old Victorian house in Arlington, Massachusetts. It has the ancient and worn feel of a space well-loved, like your grandmother's kitchen. Shelves of books, potted plants, prayer flags, and mysterious pantries.
Madelon is petite with gray curly hair and mischievous eyes, a little witchy. She sat me down on her couch and we had a two hour intake session, exploring my health history from birth, the history of my emotional health (she happens to have had a former life as a psychotherapist), my cycles, my digestion and my diet. She looked closely at my face, tongue, nails, and eyes, and listened to my pulse with the tips of her fingers, feeling at the surface, then deeper. She stepped out to putter around in her apothecary, and returned with bottles of tinctures, asking me to taste them and listen for a response in my body while she "listened" to my pulses. She was satisfied when one gave me a warm feeling in my chest, and set aside another when it made my pulse jumpy.
I left with an herbal protocol to heal my cervix, some ground rules for what foods would nourish me best and which to avoid, and a new path in life.
Over the next few months, I changed everything, bit by bit. What I ate (no more hasty lunchtime pizza slices), what I drank (lots of tea), and I took my little tincture bottle with me everywhere, taking my doses from a slender glass dropper. I also followed a specific protocol for healing my cervix. And, yes, I've never had an abnormal pap since--no cryotherapy, no LEEP procedures that would have resulted in additional scarring to my body.
Most of all, I radically changed my expectations.
Now, I'm the only one who is responsible for my body, for the quality of my life, and so I fully claim that. I am intentional about the foods I eat. I pay attention to gaps. I pay attention to my cycles. I know that the contentment, joy, and energy I am capable of feeling in my day to day life is directly tied to whether I move my body, so I have a yoga practice. I see an acupuncturist who keeps me in balance. For my annual wellness care, I see a midwife who practices out of the hospital, because she can perform all the exams and labwork for me just as well as any other GYN provider, but she does it on my couch, at my pace. When something is off in my body, I first look to what I'm eating, the quality of my sleep, whether I've been moving my body, and if there's something I'm not letting myself feel.
When I see a doctor, it's usually because I want a diagnosis that I can then work with on my own or with a holistic provider, or I’m I need a specialist who has specific tools that aren’t in any other toolkit. But, when I sit down with a doctor, I'm no longer a passive recipient. I listen to recommendations, but I’m cautious with procedures and medications, particularly when there's a one-size-fits-all approach to whatever I'm dealing with. I'm not a cog. I value collaborative care that doesn't assume that the provider has more power and authority than I do with regards to my health, even if they have the expertise. I love my providers who work with me, not over me.
What does health care look like for you? What could it look like? What conversations are you having with your provider and what conversations could you be having if you felt safe, comfortable, and heard? What do you not feel comfortable asking of your provider, and why?
If you're someone with experiences of sexual trauma, do you feel safe asking for what you need when a provider touches your body? Do they ask for your consent? Do they give you time and space to be ready to be touched? Do they respect or dismiss your needs?
If you're pregnant, do you feel seen as a whole person? Do you feel like you're just making your way through the mechanistic experience of prenatal care, and do you wish there was something more? Does your provider respect your choices in prenatal care and birth, or do you feel like you're constantly fighting?
I went on to study herbalism at the Boston School of Herbal Studies, completing a two-year apprenticeship with Madelon and Tommy Priester. Madelon not only changed how I approach health care, but my entire experience with her was one of my inspirations in becoming a midwife. I want my clients to come away from their care knowing what it’s like to have true informed consent, to really be seen and heard, to feel genuinely cared for. I want that experience to radically transform their expectations for what healthcare can be. Truly, we deserve it.
