By Dr. Matsen

Ankylosing spondylitis is just a fancy name for arthritis of the spine. And it can be traced as far back as ancient Egypt.

It’s an autoimmune disease that triggers antibodies to attack healthy cells, causing inflammation and chronic pain that radiates to the joints and can cause deformity. I first had twinges of the disease when I was 18 and a member of the B.C. Dragoons militia based in Kelowna. After a long hike with full gear, I felt some pain in my hips and my lower back. A doctor checked me over, gave me some painkillers and life went on.

At 21, when I attended Carleton University in Ottawa in the mid-’60s, I started having some discomfort in my shoulders and neck. As young people are wont to do, I ignored the problem hoping it would go away.

After graduation and at the time when I got my first newspaper job at The Star in Windsor, Ontario, the disease progressed at an alarming rate. The pain in my shoulders and neck was so intense at times, I couldn’t lift my arms above my head. There were times when getting out of bed was an ordeal. I would have to roll off onto the floor and push myself up to a standing position. Once I started moving, I could function.

I was referred to a specialist at the University of Windsor, who was baffled by what I had. He thought it was caused by something in my spinal column, so he ordered a spinal tap, where fluid is drawn so it can be examined. Nothing out of the ordinary was found.

I was referred to another specialist at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. After a number of tests that included an electromyogram to determine the cause of muscle weakness––I was getting pretty thin––the specialist gave a name to my malady: ankylosing spondylitis.

To ease my pain and inflammation, he prescribed a miracle anti-inflammatory drug, cortisone, which, although it masked the symptoms, it didn’t cure the disease. Later I was put on indomethacin, which had fewer side-effects.

So, most of my adult life, I was taking four tablets of 25 mg of the anti-inflammatory drug to be able to function as near normal until . . .

. . . until I heard of naturopath guru Dr. Jonn Matsen of North Vancouver and read testimonials in his book, Eating Alive, where other sufferers with the disease reported positive results after following his naturopathic regimen.

Dr. Matsen’s philosophy is simple: Fix the body so it can fix itself. It took three visits over two years, a cleansing of a life’s worth of toxins and heavy metals, getting rid of the yeast in my gut that was feeding the antibodies that were attacking the cells in my body, learning to eat right and exercising, and eureka!

I was weaned off the debilitating anti-inflammatories, first taking only two pills––one at night so I wouldn’t have discomfort in bed, and one during the day so I wouldn’t stiffen up at my mostly sedentary job as a journalist––to the point where I was taking only one pill at night.

Then, there were none. No more pills. Nada.

A miracle! It doesn’t rank up there with Lazarus arising from the dead, but a miracle nonetheless.

Today, I work out three times a week at the YMCA, I swim, play soccer with my grandson, and I even went ziptrekking in Costa Rica and kayaking in New Zealand.

And, as Dr. Matsen observed on a follow-up visit, my posture had improved to the point where I was no longer hunched over but walked more upright like Homo sapiens were meant to walk.

I couldn’t have done it without him.

Joseph Kula was the long-time travel editor of The Vancouver Province and a freelance travel writer.