How lucky are all these people and animals. I envy them because they can breathe in the oxygen without anything or anyone hindering them. Don’t even think that I need to see a psychiatrist. I wonder how someone can struggle so much just to breathe. There is so much oxygen in the air, yet I can’t seem to get enough to breathe freely. No, I wasn’t depressed, I didn’t have anxiety, and I was (and still am) like a schewa—always calm and unstressed. But I definitely had a medical condition that baffled doctors until August 2025.
It all began in 2020, after COVID-19 had already claimed countless lives. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them! But the virus didn’t stop there, it turned everyone’s life upside down in so many ways. I used to play soccer from dusk till dawn, but everything came to a halt, and that was when I nearly lost my passion. It ultimately affected my cardiovascular health. Fortunately, I found a new passion in writing, writing, at least, for myself. I wasn’t good enough to be a published author, but I began writing every day and night. I wrote poems, stories, newspaper articles, and social media posts, covering topics such as struggles, health, politics, poverty, love, and longing.
Some of my work was published in local newspapers and anthologies. I even started writing a book under the mentorship of a few experienced individuals from District Ganderbal. My sense of fulfillment knew no bounds back then. But like most things, that joy didn’t last. After a year, my focus shifted, and that’s when things took a turn for the worse.
I started experiencing suffocation, weakness, aches in my limbs, presyncope, and more. As if that wasn’t enough, my legs would go cold, and the pain kept me up all night, leading to insomnia, another unwelcome visitor. Everything started to spiral. I thought I had reached the pinnacle of success, but a small setback sent me plummeting back to the bottom. People who once praised my work now turned away, calling me a failure. I wasn’t offended, though I had broken their trust and their hopes. I deserved that.
Who cared about what others thought? I was fighting for my life. While I was resting, my heart was always racing, faster than Usain Bolt. A marathon was my heart’s favorite sport, while sleep was my brain’s.
Things kept getting worse. One night, I ran outside and cried my heart out, hoping it would lighten the load and it did. The weight lifted, but who would have thought it would come back twice as heavy? The next day, my mother took me to a nearby hospital, where I saw a good doctor. After hearing my symptoms, he ordered an ECG right away. I did the test, and the results were normal, it didn’t show anything wrong! “You don’t eat well. Eat more fruits, vegetables, and eggs,” he advised, prescribing some medication. I took the meds religiously, but nothing seemed to help. Things only worsened. A month later, I was back at the hospital with the same symptoms, but there was still no improvement.
Strangely, I felt a sense of relief for a few months. That relief lasted until the following year, when the same symptoms came back, over and over.
In 2023, I found myself at the hospital again, this time, I nearly suffocated. I was prescribed colanzepam (Patril) since my ECG was always normal and my SpO2 remained a steady 98%. The doctors suggested I consult a psychiatrist. My mother was shocked. “Have you lost your mind? Are you depressed?” she asked. Regardless, I decided to follow the doctor’s advice and went to see a psychiatrist. I explained my symptoms, and it had become almost routine to recite them, like a rhyme I learned as a child “Johnny Johnny, yes papa?” Yep, that one. The psychiatrist gave me some medication, and guess what? It worked! Every symptom vanished. Well, they did, until I woke up from sleep, and you know what? The medicine kept me unconscious!
At least the insomnia was gone.
But that was only a temporary fix, like slapping adhesive tape on cracks in a mountain. The pills ran out, and the symptoms returned. My mother forbade me from seeing the psychiatrist again. I didn’t know why.
I kept reciting my symptoms to a new set of doctors. Most of them sent me back to the psychiatrist. I lost all hope and finally accepted what I had once tried to avoid, becoming what I had always dreaded to be!
After navigating through a maze of doctors, misdiagnoses, and temporary fixes, I finally told a doctor the same symptoms. This time, however, he suggested something different. He ordered blood tests CBC and a lipid profile. He was Dr. Muzaffar at DH Duderhama. He also told me, “Get out of the room, either work or exercise.” At that point, I had already taken medicines for conditions I didn’t even have. I don’t think there was any need for the pills the psychiatrist gave me, especially the colanzepam and the injections that made me unconscious for hours!
I took the blood tests, and that’s when the mystery began to unravel, high triglycerides and high bad cholesterol were the hidden killers inside my body! And as always, I felt a sense of relief again. But in August, the same symptoms returned, this time accompanied by high blood pressure—190/100—and my resting heart rate was a constant 111 bpm. A doctor had once told me, "Never Google your symptoms, it only increases anxiety." But I did anyway, and I even told ChatGPT about my situation. The AI suggested I get a lipid profile test right away. I did, and my triglycerides were through the roof over 375. I shared the report with ChatGPT, and it sprang into action, giving me a detailed diet plan and suggesting exercises. Without recommending any pills, it helped stabilize me. My blood pressure became manageable, and my heart rate dropped to 50-60 bpm at rest. I felt like an athlete again. Now, before I eat anything, I ask AI whether it’s good for me, and as a result, I lost 5 kg in a month. No symptoms are present anymore. While they used to disappear temporarily before, the pain in my legs and the palpitations had never fully gone away. Now, they’re completely gone!
I had high triglycerides. I needed exercise. But instead, doctors gave me pills that kept me asleep all day and night! Should I say that life-savers almost killed me? If I had continued with those pills, I would have likely died from a heart attack or other cardiovascular diseases. Those pills encouraged a sedentary lifestyle! Thanks to my mother, Dr. Muzaffar, and especially Sam Altman for ChatGPT, it literally saved me, while those who were supposed to save me nearly killed me.
Always take charge of your health instead of relying on anyone

Email:------------------ bakshimahfooz@gmail.com