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Carol Ellison

Carol Ellison Facebook ad: “She read my file, not me”

Carol Ellison Facebook ad: She read my file, not me

Running for 11 days since September 25, 2026. Crush last saw it on October 6, 2026.

Run by Carol Ellison on Facebook. Crush is not the advertiser and does not verify its claims. See this ad in Meta's Ad Library(opens in a new tab)

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Meta Ad Library ID
1080293968053629
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Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, WhatsApp and Threads
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My A1C was a perfect 6.4, and my feet were on fire every night. My new doctor said no competent physician ignores burning that bad for three years. My old doctor was the only one who ever treated me like more than a set of numbers. My A1C was 6.4. Textbook control. And my feet were on fire every night at 3 AM. I am 62 years old. For nine years, Dr. Hollis was my doctor. He knew my mother had diabetes. Knew I'd watched her lose her foot, and then her life. Knew that every time I sat in his exam room I was half-sitting in her hospital room, remembering what the surgeon was wearing. He'd been watching the tingling in my feet for three years. "It's common with diabetes, Carol. Your numbers are excellent. Let's keep an eye on it. We have time." I believed him. I needed to believe him. Then Dr. Hollis retired. His replacement was Dr. Kessler. My first appointment was supposed to be a formality. Transfer the records. Shake hands. Nothing more. I sat on the exam table in a paper gown. Same office. Same anatomy poster on the wall. Different doctor. Dr. Kessler walked in. Late thirties. Wire-rimmed glasses. Didn't smile. "Mrs. Ellison." She opened my chart on her laptop. Scrolled. Stopped. Scrolled again. Then she turned the screen toward me. "Foot tingling and burning. Documented as worsening for three years. No workup ordered. No cause investigated. You've been on metformin for nine years. Can you explain why no one looked into this?" "Dr. Hollis was monitoring it. My diabetes numbers were good. He said we had time." "Time." She said it like it tasted bad. "You're describing burning that wakes you at three in the morning, getting worse for three years. That's not something you simply watch. Whoever told you to wait was ignoring it." The room tilted. "He wasn't ignoring it. He knew my history. My mother lost her foot to this—" "I've read your family history. That's precisely why this should have been investigated years ago. Not in spite of your mother. Because of her." She reached for her pad. "In the meantime, we can manage the pain. Gabapentin. 300 milligrams, three times daily." "That just numbs it. It doesn't tell me why my feet are burning." "It will help you sleep, Mrs. Ellison. We can look for causes later." Later. Three years of later. She printed it anyway and set it on the counter. "Your choice to delay will be documented as declining treatment." Declining treatment. The word negligent she'd used about Dr. Hollis was still ringing in my ears. The man who shook my hand for nine years. Who knew my mother's story. Who never once made me feel like a failure. Negligent? And now this one, who'd looked at three years of worsening burning and reached for a pill to quiet it without asking a single question about the cause. I drove home with the gabapentin script on the passenger seat. Couldn't touch it. That night my husband Greg found me at the kitchen table at midnight. Laptop open. "What are you doing?" "Trying to figure out who's right." "About what?" "Dr. Hollis said we had time. Dr. Kessler says he ignored me for three years. Same chart. Same feet. One says patience. The other says it was almost malpractice." He sat down. Quiet for a long time. "What if they're both wrong?" I stared at him. "What if Hollis just waited and Kessler just wants to mute it? Neither one of them is asking the same question you are. Why are your feet burning? She's not finding the cause either, Carol. She's covering it up." I didn't sleep. At 3 AM I was on my laptop. diabetic neuropathy burning feet real cause metformin nerve damage why And the same two words kept appearing, in thread after thread of people describing my exact nights. The burning first. Then the buzzing. Then the numbness. And over and over, two words I had never once heard in nine years of appointments: B12 deficiency. Here's what I learned, and what made me furious it had never been said out loud to me. Metformin depletes vitamin B12. It's not a rumor; it's a known, documented effect of the very drug that had been keeping my blood sugar perfect for nearly a decade. And B12 is exactly what nerves need. B12 maintains the protective coating around every nerve, the insulation that keeps the signal contained and traveling the way it should. When B12 runs low, that coating starts to break down, and the bare nerves get overactive and oversensitive. They fire on their own, with no real trigger. Your brain reads it as burning, tingling, pins and needles, even when nothing is touching your feet. So the metformin controlled my diabetes and quietly drained the one thing my nerves needed to stay calm. For nine years. And no one checked. Not once. I want to be honest with you, because this is the part that stung. I had already tried B12. Months earlier I'd bought a bottle of B-complex pills at the drugstore. Took one every morning. Felt nothing. I assumed B12 just didn't work for me, and I gave up. So when I saw it again I almost scrolled past. Then I read why it hadn't worked, and I felt sick. After about age 50, your stomach acid drops off and the part of your gut that absorbs B12 stops doing its job properly. The B12 in those pills I'd been swallowing was going straight through me. It was never reaching my bloodstream. Not because B12 doesn't work, but because the delivery was broken. I'd been taking the right vitamin in the one form my body could no longer absorb. I'd actually tried three before I understood this. First, a cheap drugstore B-complex. Three months. Nothing. A pill, lost in the same broken absorption. Then a more expensive "nerve support" capsule I found on a diabetes forum. Two months. A flicker, maybe, then nothing. Still a pill. Still swallowed. Still gone before it reached me. Three attempts. Five months. Every one of them with the same flaw nobody had told me about: They all had to survive a stomach that had stopped absorbing B12 years ago. That's when I came across a different kind of B-complex. Not a pill. It works differently than anything I'd tried. Instead of going through the stomach that had stopped absorbing it, you put it under your tongue and it goes straight into the bloodstream. Right to where the nerves actually are. And it isn't just B12. There's B1, B3, B6, and folate in there, each doing its own job. The B12 helps maintain that protective coating around the nerves. The B6 helps the nerves send their signals properly instead of misfiring. The B1 helps them turn food into the energy they need to keep working. And the folate works together with the B12 so the whole repair process can actually happen. The way it was explained, it finally made sense. The B12 was never the problem. The delivery was. I ordered it that night. The bottle arrived two days later. I started right away. A dropper and a half under the tongue, once a day, alongside my metformin. I didn't stop my metformin. I wasn't about to. I just finally gave my body the thing it had been missing for nine years. I didn't expect much. I'd been let down too many times. I want to be honest about the timeline, because I don't trust anything that promises overnight miracles, and you shouldn't either. The first week, nothing. The second week, I noticed something at the edge of my attention. The burning had started to calm down. Like someone was slowly turning down the volume. Then one night, I slept all the way through without waking up in pain. I lay there the next morning trying to remember the last time that had happened, and I couldn't. Week three, the nights got quieter still. I wasn't pressing my feet against the cool side of the sheets at 3 AM. I wasn't walking the hallway. By week six the buzzing in my hands had eased too. Not gone, I want to be honest, but eased enough that I could hold my morning coffee without that hum under my skin. I kept taking my metformin the whole time. My A1C is still right where it should be. Controlled. Stable. No surprises. The difference is I'm not paying for that control with my sleep anymore. But I wanted more than my own word for it. So before my follow-up with Dr. Kessler, I asked for the one thing no one had offered me in nine years: A B12 blood test. At the office, she opened my chart. The lab result was already in. She looked at the screen, then at me. "You didn't fill the gabapentin." "No. I asked for a B12 panel instead. Look at it." She did. And she went quiet. Nine years on metformin, and no one had ever run it. My B12 had been sitting at the very bottom of the range, low enough to starve a nerve, the entire time my feet were burning. The new result, after three months of taking B12 in a form I could finally absorb, was up in the healthy range for the first time on record. "This is markedly higher than your baseline," she said slowly, scrolling. "What are you taking?" "A sublingual B-complex. Methylcobalamin, the active form, taken under the tongue so it actually absorbs. Every ingredient and amount printed on the label." I set the bottle on the counter. "And I've slept through the night for three weeks straight. For the first time in three years." She picked it up. Read the form of B12. Read the amounts, all disclosed, nothing hidden. Then she looked back at the lab number she couldn't argue with. Long silence. "Metformin does deplete B12," she finally said. "Yours clearly was depleted. This is reasonable to stay on. Keep doing what you're doing. We'll recheck your level in eight weeks." Keep doing what you're doing. No gabapentin. No "declining treatment." No drug to mute a fire nobody had bothered to find the source of. Just a number on a chart that proved the cause had been sitting there the whole time, and no one had looked. I sat in my car. Called Greg. "My B12 was on the floor for nine years and nobody ever checked. She said keep going." I heard him exhale. "Carol. You found it yourself." "Nobody found it for me. Not Dr. Hollis. Not Dr. Kessler. I had to go looking myself." That was fourteen weeks ago. Last Saturday, Greg and I took our grandkids to the park. I chased my four-year-old grandson around the playground for twenty minutes. Actually running, on feet that used to wake me up screaming at 3 AM. Greg looked at me. "Your feet aren't hurting?" They weren't. For the first time in years, they weren't. If you're reading this, you know what it's like to be caught between two doctors who can't agree. One says wait. The other says waiting was reckless, and reaches for a pill to numb you instead of asking why. You can't go backward. You don't want to spend the rest of your life muting a symptom while the cause goes untouched. And nobody is offering you the third option, the one that asks why your feet are burning in the first place. Here's what I want you to know: "Dr. Hollis made me feel safe. Dr. Kessler made me feel like a failure. Both of them were looking at the same direction. Neither one of them ever ordered the one test that explained everything. I found it myself. The B12 my metformin had been draining for nine years, in a form my body could finally absorb. I slept through the night for the first time in three years. My doctor monitors me every eight weeks now. No nerve drug. No threats. No lectures. If you feel trapped between two opinions and neither one feels right, there's a third path. Find the cause, not the cover-up. Ask for the B12 test no one ever ran. Bring the result to your doctor. Let it speak." — Carol Ellison I tried three B-complex products before this one. None worked, because they were all built the same wrong way. Here's why this one was different: 1. Sublingual, not swallowed Standard B12 pills have to survive a stomach that, after age 50, has largely stopped absorbing B12. Most of it passes straight through you. That's why my drugstore pills did nothing. This goes under the tongue, straight into the bloodstream, and reaches the nerves directly. That's the whole difference. The vitamin was never the problem. The delivery was. 2. Methylcobalamin, the form your body can actually use It uses methylcobalamin B12, the active form, not the cheap kind your body has to convert first. 5,000 mcg per serving. 3. A full B-complex, not B12 alone B1, B3, B6, and folate, each supporting the nerves in its own way, working together the way they're meant to, instead of B12 trying to do the whole job by itself. 4. Every amount on the label No "proprietary blend" hiding how little is really inside. You see exactly what you're taking, which is exactly what I was able to hand to my doctor. Try it for up to 90 days. If your nights don't get quieter, full refund, no questions asked. You risk nothing. You're caught between two voices right now. One says wait it out. One says here's a pill to numb it. Neither one is asking why your feet are on fire in the first place. You have a third choice. One path: Take the nerve drug. Hope the side effects are manageable. Spend years muting a symptom while the cause keeps doing its quiet damage, the way it did to your mother, or your father, or whoever you watched decline on drugs that "managed" things but never fixed them. Another path: Replace the B12 your metformin has been quietly draining, in a form your body can finally absorb, and give your nerves what they've been missing all along. I chose the third path. My doctor respects my choice now. Because I came back with a lab result, not an argument. "Fourteen weeks ago I was caught between two doctors who made me feel like no matter what I chose, I was wrong. One called the other negligent. The other would have called the first one reckless. I stopped listening to both of them and went looking for the cause myself. The test they never ordered showed my B12 had been on the floor for years. I corrected it, in a form my body could finally absorb, and I sleep through the night now. If you're stuck between two opinions and neither one gives you peace, find the thing that treats the cause. Your own body will tell you the truth louder than any doctor's opinion." — Carol Ellison P.S. The burning started easing within two weeks. I slept through the night by week three. I kept taking my metformin the entire time, this was never about quitting what controls your neuropathy. It was about replacing what that medication quietly drained for nine years. Ask your doctor for a simple B12 blood test. It's the check that should have been run years ago, and it costs almost nothing. P.P.S. Neuropathy doesn't stay where it starts. It crept from my mother's feet to her calves to a wheelchair while everyone "managed" it and no one looked for the cause. Every night you wait is another night your nerves go without the one thing they need. Don't wait for two doctors to agree. Go find the cause yourself.

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She read my file, not me

I wish I had known this sooner.

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