As an allergy, immunology, and autoimmune disease specialist, I frequently see patients whose stories are a harsh indictment of our medical system. They’ve been dismissed, misdiagnosed, and forced to navigate a maze designed for quick fixes, not the complexities they endure. These unseen patients fight multi-system illnesses that defy textbooks. Their journeys highlight just how broken our approach to chronic disease truly is.
Playing “medical hot potato,” they bounce between specialists fixated on single organs, not the whole suffering person. Many doctors are drawn to easy wins, cases with satisfying answers, and quick financial rewards. Meanwhile, overwhelmed primary care providers grapple with 15-minute slots asking patients to ration their complaints. Blaming weight, stress, or mental health becomes the default instead of a real diagnosis. The financial and emotional toll on patients is crushing.
I get it. I’m both a doctor and an autoimmune patient. The pressure to produce answers when there are none tests everyone. My training offered glimpses into nuanced conditions like mast cell disorders, but for things like dysautonomia, dedicated care centers are rare. Even within my own institution, finding colleagues willing to help these patients can be a struggle. “They’re too difficult,” I’m told.
But these patients aren’t difficult; they’re frustrated with a system that promises healing yet adds to their trauma. I hear their fears in support groups: how to approach a new doctor, fearful of being seen as troublemakers, whether they’ll be taken seriously, or if they’ll just be labeled a drug seeker. I wish, just like them, for a magic cure – for my Sjogren’s and for the whole broken system. We need an overhaul: real investment in understanding these conditions, revamped medical education, and insurance reform recognizing the complexities of long-term management.
Waiting for change while people suffer isn’t an option. It’s time for physicians to channel our inner teenage rebels. We’re those “embedded critics,” empowered to question our peers and the status quo. As a physician-patient, I’m doubly invested in this fight. Here’s what I’m doing:
- Refusing to sacrifice time with complex new patients.
- Empowering patients with knowledge, turning them into scientists of their own bodies.
- Creating web-based resources to support patients outside the exam room between our visits.
- Billing for portal time – my expertise has value.
- Collaborating with anyone who will work with me, even if it stretches the boundaries of traditional care.
- Staying relentless about new research, even when it makes the establishment uncomfortable.
And most importantly, I prioritize my own health so I can be the best doctor possible.
For the unseen patients, simply being heard is a lifeline. We must listen, believe their experiences, and be true partners in their care. Even within this imperfect system, those moments of human connection make it all worthwhile.
But real, lasting change demands more. Physicians, patients, and policymakers must unite. We need a system that sees the complexity of chronic illness and gives us the resources to provide the care these unseen patients desperately need. It’s a big task, but many hands make light work, and that kind of care is what we all deserve.
Kara Wada is a quadruple board-certified pediatric and adult allergy and immunology, lifestyle, and functional medicine physician, a Sjögren’s disease specialist, and a Sjögren’s patient herself. She spent nine years on faculty at The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center, where she served as associate program director of the allergy and immunology fellowship and led the Mast Cell Center of Excellence.
In 2025, she left academic medicine to build the kind of practice she could not find as a patient: the Immune Confident Institute, a national direct-care immunology practice licensed in 27 states. She treats the patients the health care system sends ping-ponging between specialists, people with complex, chronic, multisystem disease including mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS), dysautonomia, Sjögren’s disease, immune dysfunction, and the seronegative and “in-between” diagnoses that do not fit neatly into a single specialty.
Her premise is simple: These patients are not the problem. Fragmented care is. Medicine has become exceptionally good at looking through microscopes while losing sight of the telescope, the bigger picture of the person in front of us. Her work challenges a health care culture that demands compliance when it should assume competence, and aims to make strategic, compassionate immune-directed care the standard, and the exam room a place where patients are finally seen, heard, and believed.
Most of her reach is built outside the exam room. Her YouTube channel drew roughly two million views this past year, and more than 100,000 people follow her work across platforms, including a Sjögren’s community of about 6,600. She founded and hosts the Virtual Sjögren’s Summit, now in its sixth year and drawing some 4,300 registrants worldwide. She appears regularly on national television and in the health press, including Prevention, SELF, Good Housekeeping, WebMD, Medscape, and MedPage Today, and she writes for KevinMD on the diagnoses that live in the shadows and the medical gaslighting that surrounds them.
A TEDx speaker and sought-after keynote, Wada speaks to clinician and patient audiences about complex immune disease, the experience of being disbelieved, and what changes when the physician is also the patient. She is also an unlikely pageant titleholder, having served as Dr. Ohio America 2022 and Dr. Midwest America 2023, and has written about how pageantry sharpened skills medicine rewards but rarely teaches.
She earned her medical degree with honors from the University of Illinois College of Medicine at Peoria and completed internal medicine-pediatrics residency, allergy and immunology fellowship, and clinician educator fellowship at The Ohio State University and Nationwide Children’s Hospital. She lives in Columbus, Ohio, with her medical school sweetheart turned husband, Akira, and their three children.


















