Back then, I believed medicine was straightforward. Doctors give you pills — you don’t question the process. It felt clean. Then cracks began to show.
Then the strange fog. I told myself “this is normal”. But my body was whispering something else. I watched people talk about their own experiences. No one had warned me about interactions.
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I started seeing: one dose doesn’t fit all. The same treatment can heal one and harm another. Side effects hide. Still we don’t ask why.
Now I question more. Not because I’m paranoid. I track everything. But I don’t care. This is survival, not stubbornness. The turning point, it would be keyword.