It's ok, I am a doctor!

I have over 150 allergies and most of them decided to make my life a miserable version of an existence about one year and two months ago, November 2013. I was always exhausted. My breathing was laboured and felt like a full-time job that you hate to wake up to every single morning. And inhaling through both nostrils was a fantasy to me. I was desperate. I had no idea why this was happening all of a sudden and how to make it stop. I was in such a bad state I was about to give my pet rabbit away, because I thought her fur was to blame. On a whim I replaced her hay with a substitute pellet form that the little fur ball loved and alleviated my allergies to the point of coming to the conclusion that the rabbit is not the sole reason for my suffering. In January 2014, my body, still weak from almost two months of consistent exposure to an allergen could not deal with a typical winter flu and I was bed ridden with a high fever for two weeks straight. Then, in February I got a cold, one that lasted about twice as long as a regular cold should last. By that time I was a nervous, weak, exhausted and a completely frustrated wreck, With three term papers due at the end of the month and none of them started I felt like begging for a higher power's mercy. By March 1st I could not believe the miracle that just happened: I leaned back in my chair, bleary eyed, sleep deprived and wired on sugared coffee as I just submitted the last of my term papers minutes before midnight. I did it. In early March I decided to start practicing a regular regime of yoga, only to have that cut short by a small tear in my shoulder that occurred during downward facing dog in the first session. The pain accompanied me until June. During these troubling months of physical ailments my mother had her own worries with her allergies and began to tell me about a naturopath in her hometown (I do not live at home anymore nor in the some city as her). This naturopath, she informed me, uses the principle of NAET (Nambudripad's Allergy Elimination Techniques), a non-invasive procedure of acupressure to treat food and environmental allergies. For months, my mom raved about this treatment and how much it has been helping her and that I should really give it a try. Therefore in June, while visiting my family in W. I decided to give this treatment a try, since nothing else seemed to be helping and I did not want to continue to pop my allergy pills like Tic-Tacs. The initial visit consisted of a computerized test to determine all of my allergies. The naturopath, a very professional and quiet woman named S., would press a metal rod, which was connected to the computer to my right middle finger and miraculously my allergies appeared in chart form on the computer screen. Her office was bright and clean. Her receptionist a very friendly and calm woman with a sweet disposition. The actual treatment room had two large windows facing the small parking lot just outside the building and the air was fresh. Nevertheless, S. would barely say a word during that initial visit. I had absolutely no idea what exactly was going on and what I should expect. To be quite honest, S. gave me nightmares, I couldn't read her and was unsure if she even wanted to treat me. After the first treatment session my opinion and slight fear of this very professional woman disappeared and was replaced by gratitude, since I was beginning to feel better. Mind, I was not cured completely, but I could finally breathe through my nose again, eat strawberries and pet my rabbit without being afraid my dormant allergy to animal epiphelial would cause me to react. The downside of this arrangement was that I could only ever get my treatments when I was in W., which was a five-hour drive from my home. In October, during my last treatment session with S. in 2014 I asked her if she knew of a NAET practitioner in my home city. I was willing and eager to continue my treatments and could not wait to feel fully healthy again. Therefore, in late November I called the office of the practitioner that was listed on the NAET website to be available in my city. I specifically requested an appointment for the continuation of my treatment. This is where the most difficult part of this story has to be told. I made an appointment for Dec. 9, 2014 at 1pm. Leaving with plenty of time to spare I made my way to the office of Dr. B., a doctor of chiropractic and practitioner of NEAT (which include the acquisition of the NAET certificate). I searched both sides of the street for this doctor's office until I realized the receptionist on the phone gave me wrong directions from the subway, which meant I had no choice, but to walk 45 minutes west, since I missed three buses driving by. This should have been the first sign of bad things to come. When I finally arrived at the office I stepped into a very dingy looking rectangular main entrance, at the far end of which sat the receptionist, a pleasant enough person. Beside her stood Dr. B., extending his hand in greeting. He was a small man, heavily set around the waist with rather skinny arms and legs, on his head he was wearing a toupee with a shade of brown three shades too dark for his grey hair. Having been 30 minutes late, I was asked to wait for the next available time slot (a mere 10 minutes later). The waiting room was unbearably hot, especially for this cold but not freezing day outside. I was led down a dark hallway into the treatment room; a small, dark rectangular room, stifling hot, with incense burning somewhere and chant-like music playing from a portable CD player. Before I continue I would like to state for the record what I wore during this appointment to ensure that no one comes to the absurd conclusion that what I am about to share was in any way or form asked for on my part by the attire I chose. I wore black UGG boots, black jeans, a lime green broad-shouldered tank top and a grey zip sweatshirt hoody, zipped up. I was asked to sit down. I retrieved my list of allergies printed from the computer test done in June, which he shoved back into my hands and claimed computer tests are not reliable, but nevertheless, he told me, he wants to see where I am at in my treatments. Taking this as a statement that he is actually continuing where S. had left off, I began to cite my current allergy complains. I didn't get too far before I realized that Dr. B. liked to talk a lot. He then instructed me to sit on the chiropractic couch. He continued to talk, while I began to feel fuzzy from the heat and the smell of the incense. He performed the allergy test without the computer, explaining the sources of my complaints, sounding more like a machine gun than a practitioner helping a patient. Dr. B. just started a new bout of the verbal waterfall with respect to what is all wrong with me and what could be done to help me, when he took hold of my sweatshirt and lifted it to check if I had a rash on my back. After which he grabbed the collar of my sweatshirt, pulled it down my shoulder to check for a rash there as well, both times exposing bare skin. It must be said that his movements were as quick as the flow of words leaving his mouth. I had to stand up, because he wanted to check my posture, since he is a chiropractor he could help me with my back pain. I stood, facing forward with a straight back. He waved his hands around me, touching my shoulders from time to time. And then it happened: a tiny, well-positioned movement around my breast. Then another one, but this time he actually grazed my breast with the same swift and quick movement. He turned towards my back to check the alignment of my hips and cupped my buttocks twice, again with the same swift, quick movement. I wasn't sure what was happening. Dizzy from the heat and burning incense and in denial that a health care practitioner would touch a patient inappropriately, I was hoping this session would be over soon. He confirmed that my hips were misaligned and he offered to reposition them again, since he is a chiropractor. I have been to two different chiropractors before and both have helped me greatly in achieving some relief in my almost chronic stiff neck and back pain. Therefore, I was hopeful and optimistic that at least with respect to the offer of chiropractic services he would be able to be of assistance. During this entire time he was still talking without pause for breath or reply. In between his many explanations why I am basically a physical mess and offering the hip alignment, he also said that a bladder and uterus lift would be beneficial to me. I said yes to the hip alignment and without any further explanation and confirmation that I indeed want this bladder lift, I found myself face down on the chiropractic couch, which was tilted in such a way that getting back up quickly was impossible. Dr. B. announced that he was starting the hip alignment and proceeded to rub my thighs and buttocks repeatedly. Then he placed his hands underneath my lower abdomen, feeling for my bladder and gave the fleshy part a few light flicks. His fingers then traveled down towards my pubic bone, which he pressed thoroughly with his index and middle fingers. He rubbed my buttocks once more and instructed me to stand up and sit in the chair. Hoping the “treatment” would be over and he was just going to recap all he had included in this session, I clambered to a seated position and then sat in the chair. Dr. B. reiterated my problematic hips and recommended orthopedic insoles. He left the room and came back with the supplies to take imprints of my feet. He told me to take off my shoes and socks and before I could move he grabbed my foot firmly and yanked off my boot and sock. I wish this terrible experience was over after he took my foot imprints, but I had no such luck. I put my shoes back on and met him and the receptionist at the front desk. Once again, he spoke very fast about all the services, supplement and supplies I would need in order to get my health back in order. But I should not worry, since he will give me a good price on the orthopedic insoles, meaning he would make out the receipt for the insurance in such a way that I would still receive my benefits, if I already used all of my allotted money for the year. He spelled it out for me, giving the example that he would just put my fiance's name on the receipt, claiming that he received the services (i.e. the insoles), even though I am the one, who is receiving them, but the insurance would never know. He pressured me into paying for the insoles straight away ($400), plus $156 for the initial visit, which I did not ask for, and supplements. I stood firm, paid only the second amount, got bundled up in my scarf and coat and could not get out of the office quick enough. Now I am sitting here, almost two months after this terrible experience, attempting to put into words what has been subconsciously torturing me for just as long. It was easy to remain distracted for the first month, being the Christmas holidays. Once the holidays were over and life returned to normal I was left with a growing sense of anxiousness, depleted self-worth and a tendency to pick and scratch my constant hives I have from my allergies. I knew something was wrong, but I was sure this experience did not leave such a lasting and deeply bad impression on me. I was in denial, willing to shove it all under the proverbial rug. It really isn't such a big deal that a health care professional and therefore a person meant to be trusted deceives and touches his patient in immoral ways. Or is it? I cannot concentrate on anything for prolonged periods. I keep trying to distract myself without avail and I am two months behind in my school work. It is a big deal. Two days ago I called the Manulife Insurance fraud investigative department and left a message about this potential fraud. Yesterday I began writing all of it down, which promptly triggered a lovely combination of panic and anxiety. Today, I received a call from Manulife: an investigation into this Dr. B. has been launched and I was given the contact info for the College of Chiropractors of Ontario and the Board of Directors of Drugless Therapy with the intense encouragement to file a complaint with both. I am still shaking every time I talk about it and I feel that this sense of anger towards myself for not screaming “bloody murder” during the session will stay with me for a while. I should have done something, that's what I keep telling myself. But in the end there really is no should, only the truth (wise words written by Byron Katie in Loving What Is).