Intuition and the Medical System
What does it mean to follow our intuition within medical terrain? When so much of this path feels laid out for us, straightforward, with little room to object or even question?
Last year my moment of not trusting my intuition landed me with an unnecessary surgery.
Let me explain.
At the end of last year, I ended up with sepsis. I had my assumptions as to where I’d gotten this mystery infection that had turned septic, but the doctors were without concrete evidence as to exactly what this infection was. And while we weren’t worried - this is just my body and what it does, and I was responding really well to treatment - the doctor who wasn’t my regular doctor and didn’t know me didn’t have the same response.
A combination of miscommunication, a lack of trauma informed practice and what was probably her own fear (small town doctors + big medical history = everyone is nervous) created a perfect storm and despite my improvement on the antibiotics, I was told I was being scheduled for a surgical procedure to investigate my bile ducts, which was where it was assumed this infection stemmed from. I didn’t think that was the issue, and with a lot of fighting and frustration I took the first step of trusting my intuition and made it clear I would not be consenting to anything until I talked to my transplant team. They knew me, and I knew I had a little more pull with them, though I had yet to realize a lot of the misinformation about my condition had already been passed along and they now had the hot potato of contradicting stories.
I requested a scan to evaluate my bile ducts, and depending on the results of that scan we could figure out a new plan. My team agreed, and I discharged myself with the disclaimer that I would follow my transplant team’s recommendations for follow up care.
My scan came back flagged for complications. Not conclusive, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. Now I know this was most likely just inflammation, but coupled with my recent infection it was enough to make my team push for a surgery to investigate any potential bile duct issues.
Against my intuition, I relented. This was the moment I began to doubt myself. No one was backing me up, and of course they knew better than me, right?
We drove to my transplant hospital, where they attempted, and failed, to surgically access my bile ducts. What happened next is another wild story, but the moment I woke up and the surgeon told me that despite multiple tries and repositions they had been unable to reach my bile ducts and we would have to go back to the drawing board, I knew my intuition had been right.
I began to cry, which alarmed everyone who wasn’t used to this being a normal occurrence in the recovery ward. It wasn’t fear that we’d have to do this again, or anger that the procedure hadn’t been successful, but a deep feeling that I had betrayed myself. I knew in my gut this wasn’t the right move, and I’d done it anyway.
(If you want to know how this story turned out, it became clear that the problem initially suspected that started this wild goose chase was never the issue at all and I have had no complications or infections since this incident.)
I ignored my intuition to receive care, and I think a lot of us do. We’re trained to outsource our knowing, to hand over our intuition to someone smarter or with more degrees or who has the data. And I’m not saying ignore all medical advice, but I am saying when we’re only looking at things from one angle we’re missing the entire picture.
Medicine is trained in biology. It’s a science. The thing is, you’re not only biology. You, as a complete person, are not only physical. You’re also emotional, mental, spiritual, energy. And all of those things influence what you respond to.
Intuition isn’t ignoring outside input, but asking what is the next right step for me? Taking into account who I am as a whole person, and all the aspects of self, what is the right next thing for me?
Here’s the other piece of this story: you can’t access your intuition without being in your body. Embodiment goes hand in hand with intuition. It’s one of the reasons I’m so passionate about embodiment work as a fundamental element in chronic illness care.
In the story I shared, I wasn’t in my body. I was, for a while, and then I reached the point where I was so overwhelmed and stressed and navigating so much that I just turned off. I didn’t fail here. My reaction actually made so much sense when you look at it through the lens of nervous system theory and trauma informed care. And it became the exact moment I handed over my power and agency because I thought someone else knew my body better than I did. I should have been supported, and I wasn’t.
I want to remind you of something: this medical journey might not be the path you would have chosen for yourself, but you don’t need to abandon yourself to live it. It doesn’t have to be void of intuition and connection and ritual and magic.
Your ability to stay connected to yourself under pressure is foundational. Your ability to be in your body and connected to your intuition changes the game. This is how we get from surviving this to finding vitality and aliveness even in the face of pain.