The short answer:
Signet’s MRT LEAP test. MRT stands for Mediator Release Test. It’s a patented blood test that
The Long Answer (and a testimonial too):
Let’s start at the beginning. At my largest weight (300 lbs.) I was morbidly obese with a BMI of 44.3 and I was trying desperately to lose weight. I tried everything I could find. Low carb, high fiber, Atkins, Slim fast, Hydroxycut, weight watchers, more water, more exercise, counting calories, counting fat… you name it, I probably tried it in various forms. My weight would drop a little and then go right back up (and usually go a little higher too).
Moved to Southern California
I moved to Southern California in December of 2006 and lived on a boat. I was definitely more active. I spent the whole time trying my damnedest to get the weight to come off. I managed to get my weight down to 265 and it wouldn’t budge from there. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t lose weight. I was doing everything right. But I was also miserable.
I felt sick a lot of the time. I was nauseous, which I dealt with before living on a boat. I couldn’t handle eating a lot of food. I would eat and then it would just sit on my stomach and not move. I felt full all the time. I kept telling doctor after doctor that sometimes I could eat and other times I couldn’t. It was like my stomach wouldn’t empty.
Then one day I ate a hotdog while on weight watchers. I always kept within my points. This was my treat for the week. The next few days I had no appetite. I wasn’t hungry and if I forced myself to eat, I felt like I was going to throw up. Then I finally did. I threw up chunks of hotdog that I ate days before. I told the doctors and they ran a few tests but they said I was fine.
In fact, every doctor was stumped. They labeled me as “anorexic”. I had to laugh. at 280 lbs. I was anorexic. That was hilarious! And my weight just clung to me like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t get it to come off.
Moved to Montana
In November 2008, I moved to Montana with my kids. We didn’t have a car so I walked everywhere. I doubled my efforts to lose weight and I managed to get down to 250 lbs. Even with walking everywhere, eating healthy and drinking water; my weight would not budge! I was seriously confused as to why it wouldn’t move.
And to top it off, I was having side pains when I ate. Everyone kept saying “oh, it’s probably your gall bladder.” and the doctors here just told me there was nothing wrong with me.
I started logging my food intake on Sparkpeople and tried various menu plans. Low sodium, vegetarian, high fiber… nothing worked to get the weight to come off. Plus, I noticed that I could not force myself to eat enough to get above, on average, 548 calories a day. No wonder I felt tired all the time!
Starting to get close to the problem…
In June 2010, I went to the emergency room because I was hurting so bad that I thought I was having a heart attack. The doctor that saw me there ran a lot of tests. Luckily I wasn’t having a heart attack. He suspected it was my gall bladder and referred me to a surgeon. He also gave me Ultram so that I could eat more than 548 calories a day. If I ate more, I doubled over in pain. So this gave me a chance to eat one good meal a day and hopefully start feeling better.
The surgeon here is the biggest jerk I have met. He was pompous and arrogant. He looked at the test results and said that I was fine. Then implied that it was all in my head, refused to refill my prescription and told me he’d humor me and run a few tests.
By this point, I couldn’t drink water or eat without doubling over in excruciating pain. I asked if I could have one pill for each day from that day until my scheduled test that he was going to do. He refused and told me, I shit you not, “If you don’t want to eat, admit yourself to the hospital.” I was floored.
I knew I was getting bad. I couldn’t work a whole shift without getting sent home. I couldn’t clean my house without a 5 hour nap in between 5 minute cleaning sessions. The only nutrition I was getting was from specially made protein shakes that I made in the lab section of The Protein Factory (I highly suggest them! They are awesome!). I looked sickly and my friends were openly voicing their concerns. I had to find a real doctor! I couldn’t wait a month without eating. I would die.
I have a decision to make!
I went home and cried my heart out. I was scared that I was going to die before they figured out what was wrong with me. I had two kids who were watching me slowly go downhill and I knew they worried. I called my husband in California and cried to him. We weren’t together anymore, but he was still a good friend that I could cry to if needed. I had a moment where I lamented about leaving California and moving to Montana. The medical care here is a joke and I feared that I given myself a death sentence.
That’s when we started talking about Navy doctors and hospitals. we tried to think of a way to get all of us down to Southern California so I could see a doctor there. Our finances were a little tight and we just couldn’t do it. I had a car by then but I couldn’t drive that far. I’d have to sleep constantly.
Then we got an idea. My brother and his wife live in Bremerton, WA near a Naval Hospital. So I called them and explained my situation and asked if I drove out there, would they take me to the Emergency Room. They agreed and I cannot tell you how happy I was to hear that. We couldn’t afford a hotel room. We were going to be pushing it buying the gas there. But we had a plan and I immediately called my work.
I told my boss I wouldn’t be coming in. I was packing up my kids and heading to a hospital with REAL doctors. If she wanted to fire me, fine. But I wasn’t dying because of these incompetent bastards! She told me she wouldn’t fire me. She would do everything she could to help me keep my job. I agreed to send doctors notes and anything that I could to help her help me.
And then I fell asleep. I was exhausted and I needed to figure out how I was going to make an 8 hour drive on no food, no water and suffering from severe fatigue.
Part 2: Road Trips, Sick and Doctor Visits
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