Two Years With an FND Diagnosis. Then the Specialists Said He Didn't Have It.

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Jonathan Andrews collapsed in 2022. He lost the ability to stand or walk, experienced severe pain, and was eventually diagnosed with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND). For years, he and his family struggled to obtain rehabilitation while trying to understand what had happened to him. Then, after waiting two years for an appointment with leading FND specialists at Toronto Rehab, he received an extraordinary response: they reportedly didn't believe he had FND.

"We don't believe you have FND."

โ€” Jonathan Andrews, quoting the Toronto Rehab specialists following a 2.5-hour assessment.

Think about that. Years of disability, repeated attempts to access rehabilitation, considerable personal expense, and a diagnosis that had shaped his entire treatment journey. Then the very specialists he had waited years to see reportedly questioned whether that diagnosis was correct in the first place. This isn't a minor disagreement over terminology. It raises serious questions about how the original diagnosis was established, what evidence supported it, and whether anyone adequately reconsidered it as his disability persisted.

In his first video, Jonathan openly questions whether his diagnosis is "bullshit." He describes being unable to stand for years and asks other people diagnosed with FND whether following that diagnostic pathway actually helped them recover. His concern is straightforward: he wants to walk again, not spend the rest of his life pursuing a diagnosis that may be wrong.


Jonathan also explains that he was offered painkillers and antidepressants, despite not considering himself depressed at the time. He wanted answers, effective rehabilitation, and a realistic route back to independence. Instead, he was left questioning whether the diagnosis was leading anywhere useful. A diagnosis that fails to produce meaningful answers or access to appropriate treatment deserves scrutiny, particularly when the patient remains severely disabled.

In another video, Jonathan describes being rejected by five rehabilitation facilities before approaching a sixth. He and his parents travelled to Toronto hoping to find someone with the expertise to help. According to his account, they were denied care, an experience he describes as profoundly demoralising. He recalls being told he wasn't well enough for rehabilitation, despite being bedridden, in pain, and unable to care for himself.


There is something deeply disturbing about a severely disabled person repeatedly seeking rehabilitation and being turned away while their family is left to carry the burden. Jonathan describes spending substantial savings on physiotherapy, coaches, therapy, and caregiving. His parents became his daily caregivers, and the repeated rejection eventually contributed to significant depression. Whatever the reasons for those rehabilitation decisions, the practical outcome was that a man desperate for help struggled for years to obtain it.

Then came the specialist assessment. Jonathan reports that Dr. Lynn Stone at Toronto Rehab told him she would like to help but did not believe he had FND. According to Jonathan, she explained that the team saw FND patients regularly and that his presentation did not resemble what they typically encountered. In a separate update, he described the assessment as lasting approximately two and a half hours.


That revelation raises uncomfortable questions that deserve answers:

  • What positive clinical findings were used to establish Jonathan's original FND diagnosis?
  • Were alternative neurological, neuromuscular, or other medical explanations adequately investigated?
  • What specifically did the Toronto Rehab specialists observe that made them question the diagnosis?
  • Did the original diagnosis influence subsequent clinical decisions or access to rehabilitation?
  • Who was responsible for reassessing the diagnosis when his disability persisted?
  • What safeguards exist to prevent patients from spending years following an incorrect diagnostic pathway?

These are not unreasonable questions, and asking them should not be treated as an attack on clinicians. Diagnostic labels carry consequences. They influence referrals, investigations, treatment decisions, insurance assessments, and how seriously patients are taken. When a diagnosis is presented with more certainty than the evidence justifies, the consequences can extend far beyond an incorrect entry in a medical record.

There is an important distinction between what Jonathan has reported and what can independently be established. His videos and written update document his account of the assessment, but they do not include the specialists' clinical findings, the original diagnostic records, or confirmation of an alternative diagnosis. They therefore cannot establish precisely where the diagnostic process went wrong. What they do establish is that Jonathan publicly reported a major disagreement about his diagnosis after years of living with its consequences.

Jonathan's response was to seek further diagnostic assessment, proper rehabilitation, and financial support to give his parents some respite. Despite everything, he describes making physical progress: using his wheelchair more independently, sitting upright for longer, strengthening his core, and getting onto his hands and knees again. His goal remains painfully simple: to stand, walk, and reclaim the ordinary activities that most people take for granted.

The uncomfortable reality is that patients do not get those lost years back. They cannot recover the money spent chasing answers, the opportunities missed, or the burden placed on families simply because a diagnosis is eventually questioned. Clinical uncertainty should be acknowledged from the beginning, not disguised as certainty and left for patients to challenge years later.

Jonathan's case deserves more than another discussion about whether FND is real or misunderstood. The immediate issue is whether he received an accurate diagnosis, whether the clinical decisions that followed were justified, and why obtaining appropriate help proved so difficult. Those questions should be answered with evidence, not professional defensiveness.

A diagnosis is not an achievement. Getting it right matters. And when clinicians get it wrong, patients are the ones who pay the price.

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