A functional nutritionist told me I had mold toxicity. I tried coffee enemas, saunas, and supplements to detox.

• I sweat excessively during exercise, have crepey skin, and have to pee frequently.
• When my doctor dismissed my concerns, I saw an integrative-medicine nutritionist.

Navigating weight machines toward the exit and morning coffee, I stopped short to avoid colliding with an attractive young man.

His brown eyes widened, "Wow, you look really hot!"

I grinned, but at 67, I was likely over twice his age, so I knew his comment was directed at my dripping-wet hair instead of my physique. The thing is, I sweat a lot more than others during exercise — so much so that family members often ask if it's raining when I return from a run or a bike ride. But I have never been able to say why.

Searching for answers

It never made sense to me. I'm not overweight, I don't sweat while sedentary, and past physicians have reminded me that it's normal to sweat during physical activity. My new primary-care physician recently said we'd discuss it after evaluating some blood work. However, nothing conclusive seemed to come up.

"It's good to sweat," my physician said while scanning his computer screen. "Everything looks fine."

"But I have to pee too often. And my skin is ridiculously dry," I said. I pulled my jeans up to display crepey scales. The young doctor nodded toward my calf.

I pointed at my 32-ounce water bottle, saying, "I drink two of these a day and I'm always thirsty."

He kept scrolling through my chart. "You definitely don't have diabetes," he said.

"I finally realized I need electrolytes to avoid daily naps," I said.

None of my results or symptoms sparked follow-up questions, and he declared that I was "healthy, really healthy."

My results may have said I was 'healthy,' but I still wasn't convinced

Despite the good news, I left his office disappointed — I know my body, and I still felt that something was off. Dehydration worsens with age, so how could my scaly skin support me as I approach eighty in a decade? Not only that, but I want to enjoy life now.

I want to take road trips without hourly restroom breaks. I want to enjoy a glass or two of wine without a hangover ruining the next day. I don't want to spend my golden years layering on lotion and downing electrolytes near the restroom.

I took my hot, supposedly healthy, body elsewhere. I didn't want to totally discount the science of Western medicine, but it felt like Western medicine was failing me. I had experienced toxic-mold exposure two decades prior and was starting to wonder if that experience could be the cause. I'd heard mold survivors complain about frequent urination as the body continues to attempt to flush out toxins.

I decided to see an integrative-medicine nutritionist, who ordered additional bloodwork and a mycotoxin urine test. My results revealed high levels of Ochratoxin A, a mycotoxin that flourishes in damp, flooded buildings. I was shocked to learn that a mold colony was basically growing inside me.

An exhausting detox and a dismissive doctor

The integrative-medicine nutritionist put me on a detoxing program, which included targeted supplements, teas, a low-sugar diet, and dry saunas to provide nutrients and open my body's detoxing pathways. While they warned me that I'd feel worse and that detoxing could take many months, I was shocked at how exhausted I was.

Two months later, I was taking frequent naps; the daily electrolytes that had previously provided enough energy to keep me going during the day were no longer working the same. I felt silly following an expensive, time-consuming, and intrusive protocol without knowing if I'd see positive results. Why endure coffee enemas and intravenous-oxygen therapy to feel lousy?

I hoped my primary-care physician would offer further guidance and I emailed my mold results to his office. I captured a post-exercise photo comparing my soaking hair to my classmates' dry scalps to clearly illustrate what I meant by "excessive sweating."

My physician's voice was tinged with irritation as he asked why I was so concerned with sweating; he didn't see the issue. He dismissed the exercise photo. "Why are you so worried about dehydration? You're not dehydrated!" he said. I wondered how he knew this without further testing, or without even checking my skin elasticity.

He said he couldn't interpret my mold-test results, then asked, "What is your concern?"

I felt shocked by his rude, dismissive tone. I hadn't been scolded like this since I was a child. I shut down, stared at my ever-present water bottle, and wondered why I'd hoped he'd consider unfamiliar tests.

He broke the silence in a softer voice, saying that while studies showed Ochratoxin A could cause kidney damage and cancer, none of these studies had been conducted on humans. He told me not to worry, but I didn't want to wait for the publication of studies involving humans when even the FDA is concerned about the risk Ochratoxin could pose. I felt abandoned; I was also hurt that he chastised me for wanting to fix worrisome symptoms.

While I didn't know for sure if detoxing would work, I figured that it was worth a shot and that it was better than waiting for cancer or kidney damage.

A light at the end of the tunnel — maybe

After six months of detoxing, I returned to my pre-detox energy levels and stopped needing naps. I wondered if I was cured when I woke without ill effects after a special evening of two jazz sets, a comedy show, and three margaritas.

Dim lighting during a tough morning spin class made it difficult to gauge class sweatiness, so I waited until class was over for my scalp comparison. As soon as the overhead lights flickered on, my thirty-something neighbor smiled and said, "Wow, you sure do sweat a lot!"

She quickly added that sweating is good, but I had my answer.

I'll continue to keep water and electrolytes close and will stick with the detoxing supplements until I retest in another six months.

I may not fully have the answers I'm looking for yet, but since I am seeing some improvement, maybe I'll let myself enjoy a margarita while searching for a functional-medicine doctor who takes my insurance.