About two years ago, I spoke with the mother of an eight-year-old boy I’ve been treating—we’ll call him Leo. When they first came to me, both of Leo’s parents were nearly in tears. They were at their wits’ end. Several times a day, Leo would throw epic tantrums for the slightest of reasons. He would end up writhing on the floor, screaming and crying inconsolably. This would happen with something as simple as trying to put shoes on as they were leaving the house, or not cutting the crusts off the bread for his sandwich in just the right way, or getting a stain on one of his favorite t-shirts.
He ate only a handful of foods, nearly all of them processed and refined, like crackers, waffles, and bread. His parents were concerned about nutrient deficiency and the effects of such a limited diet, but each time they tried to introduce new foods, he went crazy. They were completely worn down and didn’t have the internal resources to battle him at every meal.
Leo was also extremely rigid about certain self-imposed rules and behavior and his environment. Everything had to be just right. If something in his room was out of place, his toys weren’t arranged in just the right order, or the desks in his classroom were not arranged in perfect lines, he’d fly off the handle (his mom often had to come pick him up from school early as a result). This was also true in unfamiliar environments, which made it difficult for them to be away from home for more than a few hours, much less travel or take vacations.
They took Leo to see several doctors locally. He was initially diagnosed on the autism spectrum, but eventually the specialists decided that he more likely had sensory processing disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder.
At first his parents were somewhat relieved to have a diagnosis for Leo. They soon realized, however, that these diagnoses weren’t much more than labels for the symptoms Leo experienced. And when they asked the doctors what the treatment was, you can guess the answer: medication.
Leo’s parents weren’t happy about the idea of medicating their son, but they also saw how much he was suffering and hoped that the drugs would give him some relief. So, they initially tried Adderall, as the doctor suggested. Although Leo did improve slightly in some ways, he developed intractable constipation, sleep problems, headache, and stomach pain. The doctor switched him to Ritalin, but the results were largely the same.
From here, the specialist suggested a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), which is sometimes used to treat sensory processing disorder. Again, it did help, to some extent, and Leo tolerated it better than Ritalin and Adderall. But as Leo’s mother read more online about the potential risks of SSRIs in children and adolescents, she became increasingly uncomfortable about him taking one.
Throughout this entire time, not one of the specialists they consulted even hinted that there might be an underlying cause that was contributing to Leo’s problems, or suggested anything other than a lifetime of stimulant or antidepressant drugs for treatment. This isn’t an exception—it is the norm. Most doctors, and by extension patients and the public, have no idea that mental and behavioral disorders can have physiological causes.
From Old Paradigm to New
Fortunately, one of Leo’s mother’s friends had read several articles on my blog about the “gut-brain axis” and the connection between inflammation and mental health disorders. She forwarded them to Leo’s mom, who then made an appointment with me.
I could tell Leo’s parents were a little skeptical when we first met, but after I explained the science behind these links, and shared some stories of other similar patients I’d treated and the results we’d had, they were excited to move forward. So, I ran a complete panel of tests to screen for nutrient deficiency, GI pathologies, blood sugar imbalance, heavy metal toxicity, and food intolerances.
Not surprisingly, I found several issues. Leo had a disrupted gut microbiome, with low levels of beneficial bacteria and high levels of pathogenic microbes. He had gluten intolerance, with possible celiac disease, and he was also intolerant of rice, buckwheat, and corn—which were the major ingredients in the toaster waffles that he ate for dinner daily. He had deficiencies of several nutrients, including B12, folate, iron, and vitamin D. And he showed high levels of arsenic, a heavy metal with toxic effects. Rice milk was the only beverage he would drink aside from water, and it has been shown to be one of the highest dietary sources of arsenic.
We immediately began addressing these issues. Within two weeks, Leo’s parents noticed a significant difference in his behavior. He was having fewer tantrums and didn’t seem bothered by some of the things that would typically send him into a tailspin.
About six weeks into the treatment, Leo’s mom received a call from school. His teacher said, “Who is this kid you’re sending to school in place of Leo? I don’t even recognize him.” Leo’s teacher had really struggled with his behavior, just as his parents had, and she was amazed at the difference. He was much more relaxed in the classroom, which was a life-altering change for everyone involved.
When I next talked to Leo’s mom, it was about three months into the treatment. We had the follow-up test results back, and many of the initial issues we set out to address—like the disrupted gut microbiome and nutrient deficiencies—were resolved. And according to Leo’s mom, Leo was literally a different person. They could hardly believe the changes that they’d observed in the last three months.
His diet had expanded significantly. He was eating things he would have thrown against the wall just a few months before; he was more tolerant of disorder; he was more affectionate and less argumentative, and he was far less bothered by the things that used to trigger inconsolable tantrums that would last for hours.
At the end of our call, his mom said something that really struck me. She asked, “Why don’t more doctors know about this approach? There are so many other kids out there like Leo, and their parents and doctors aren’t even thinking about the stuff we’ve worked on here.”
Her question is exactly what inspired me to write this book, and to devote my life to training practitioners in the approach we’ll be discussing in the following chapters.
My Question for You—and an Opportunity
Her question also represents an opportunity for you: to help the millions of people who, like Leo, are suffering tremendously, but not finding answers in the conventional medical system; an opportunity to break through the old paradigm of disease management and symptom suppression with drugs, so that you can start practicing “root cause” medicine and play a part in solving the epidemic of modern, chronic disease that is destroying our quality of life.
There’s no doubt that this is the future of medicine. Cleveland Clinic has seen it, which is why they opened a center for Functional Medicine that already has a six-month wait list for new patients. And millions of people around the world have already reversed chronic diseases ranging from irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) to rheumatoid arthritis with an ancestral diet and lifestyle (which I’ll explain in detail later in the book).
My question for you is, will you be part of it? Will you join me in this movement to revolutionize healthcare and give people who’ve been without hope or relief a chance to recover and live their dreams? Will you be ready when a patient like Leo comes into your office?
I hope the answer is a resounding “yes.”