Scary Misdiagnosis: recent publications

It’s Time to Talk About the Scary Misdiagnosis Rate Women Face

On a December morning in 2017, I woke up facedown next to my treadmill. The week before, a rheumatologist at the Cleveland Clinic had diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, which she described as an “exercise depravation syndrome,” and told me aerobic exercise would help my symptoms. “As long as your heart races a little and you sweat,” the doctor’s handout advised.

As I lay on the floor, my heart raced like a trapped bird banging against my chest. I couldn’t take a deep breath. My pants were wet, from urine and sweat, and the nerves in my hands and feet were burning. I needed to throw up. Between the gray-tinged double vision and shaking in my legs, I couldn’t stand up, so I crawled across the floor and slowly pulled myself up the stairs.

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