Check this out: horrifying. How western medicine and medications have been systematically robbing humans of our natural empathy, and more. Yuck!
https://x.com/cmdrvalthor/status/1958462435607638302?s=61&t=aUBDiSUrvn0aSlRBtZx0wQ
For more than 50 years, I have been mostly off-line with allopathic medicine. Not because I’m crazy, foolish; but because I care deeply about my body’s capacity to engage as my self-correcting mind/soul/spirit instrument, thus allowing full sovereign expression in the 3D material world.
This (unfortunately, unusual) attitude comes with exceptions, of course.
Otherwise, I would be crazy.
For me: exceptions have required the more precise forms of western medicine, the ones that require actual expertise: eyes, teeth, and bones, all of which have been troublesome, in their own ways, over the decades.
Eyes with which to see the world around me.
I do have regular eye appointments, and had my cataracts operated on a few years ago. That operation was combined with a lazer procedure to shift my eyes from near-sighted to far-sighted: this means that after nearly 75 years of wearing glasses (or contacts early on, for 30 of those years), I can now see the stars! Though I do have to wear reading glasses. So it was a tradeoff. In any case, the operation was a total, very precise success, and I deeply appreciated the attitude of the entire staff at Bloomington’s Eye Center.
Teeth with which to chew on my experiences.
My teeth hold the most history of difficulty, starting first with braces as a nine-year-old, to correct for buck teeth (small mouth, big teeth). This meant that I got to take the 2-hour bus ride by myself (after the first trip accompanied by a guide, I convinced my Dad I could do it alone) from Twin Falls to Boise every month or so, where the orthodontist was located; I would then buy my own lunch downtown, and, until the bus ride back, walk around town for a few hours, keeping the Owyhee Hotel sign in view so as not to get lost.
I can thank braces in Boise for the ignition of my adventurous Sagittarian spirit!
Meanwhile, also as a kid, lots of mercury fillings. Needless to say, these came out, one by one, in my 40s, replaced mostly by crowns, pumping Vitamin C IV in one arm with each procedure as mercury was released into my larger biological system.
And of course, like everyone back then — this is now beginning to be questioned; thank goodness: after all, why are they called wisdom teeth? — I had all four wisdom teeth removed when I was 19 years old, under general anesthesia.
Much more history there: looking at my teeth, you can trace my biography. About ten years ago, one bottom front tooth, loose, came out, and replaced, but not really. Just incredible dental wizardry. (That tooth had been loose and weird for decades, beginning during my marriage to a Bad Man in the 1970s, when I kept clenching my jaw so as not to voice my fury, with the result that an infection moved, over the years, from the jaw to just under that tooth, eating the gum . . .) Whew.
Then the three teeth removed last year (upper back molars), due to deep infected pockets that I had been obsessively rinsing and oil pulling, for many years. Once they were out, I noticed an increase in overall energy. How much such a chronic infection robs us of our vitality as the body tries, and fails, in its fight to overcome it! And in this case, my intense, obsessive focus due to knowing that the infection, if it got out of hand, could travel either to my brain or to my heart.
Most recently, in fact, a deed done about a week ago: root canal on left back molar, #18. The choice was dire: but I did want to save it, rather than extract it, due to fact that I can only chew on the left side and didn’t want to lose that capacity. So I opted, with trepidation, for a root canal.
Just like at the Eye Center in Bloomington, Columbus Ondodontic surprised me with the ease of my experience there. Total, obvious mastery of this delicate, precise procedure. The place to go in southern Indiana, when you need a root canal. One hour drive from where I live. Totally worth it.
Bones with which to keep me standing, moving forward in time, operating close to in the material realm with my hands.
Three bones broken so far: the first, when I was 19, the “os pubis” on the left side, due to a car crash in windy winter Wyoming on way to visit my folks for Christmas, my future narcissitic husband driving and looking down to get the right candy from the box, with the result that the VW convertible, with his skis stretched out diagonally between us, left the road, swerved back onto the road, and then flipped, bowing the skiis, a photo of which ended up in the local newspaper. Post-accident and in shock, I got out, and went to minister to Patrick, lying on his back, until the ambulance arrived. It turned out that though his back was strained, I was the one with the broken bone . . .
When we finally arrived at my folks home in Twin Falls Idaho, after spending a week across the hall from each other in a Wyoming hospital, with Mom driving a station wagon over to pick us up, laying me in the back, my Dad came out to greet us. Standing in front of Patrick, he intoned, slowly: “So you’re the driver . . .”
The other two breaks were within the last ten years, to both wrists: the first because of a fall on a trail with tree roots in it; my friend had stepped up to trek beside me rather than behind, and that’s when I tripped on a root, and wanting to save her, fell forward rather than correcting myself.
I am quite used to being able to correct any trip before I fall, due to long practice with yoga, and especially, chi kung and taichi. Every cell is alive, and in communication with every other cell. My body truly does work “holistically” — as a whole.
The second wrist break two years ago, was due to my foolishness: on a winter day with lots of black ice, out walking as usual, I didn’t notice one spot, and went down. Glad I landed on my left wrist rather than my knee or hip!
Okay, so back to the most recent experience.
About a month ago, I noticed swelling and soreness in my left lower jaw, near the tooth known as #18, which had been re-crowned about a year ago.
I called the dentist. She decided I needed to see the endodontist in Columbus for a root canal, because the tooth itself was infected. (They had hoped that could be avoided by redoing the crown last year.)
Okay. So what was going on at that point in my life which got my body so riled up that an infection that had likely been lying in wait for years suddenly flared up?
Well, in one word: FLEA INFESTATION. It was driving me crazy, causing immense stress. (It’s not yet under control, but we’re getting there, thanks to hiring someone to thoroughly vacuum every day or every other day with a new bag each time; plus washing clothes, bed clothes, rugs, every few days; flea traps and diotomaceous earth; regular (poisonous, damn it!) treatment of dog and cat.)
By the way, I mentioned a while ago on this blog that something was going on with my right knee. That every step I took hurt. When the tooth problem developed, I suddenly intuited: once that root canal is done, the knee will heal! AND IT DID. Within only two days I noticed it beginning to heal: vital energy no longer being robbed from my biological system by the infected tooth could then go to the knee.
The body knows which part of it is most important to heal at any one point. If I stay with what my body knows, if I realize, over and over again, that the body is coterminous with the unconscious, and in fact with the mysterious, all knowing collective unconscious; so that the body, my body and your body and everybody’s body is like an individual tree in a forest, pulling up from the same interconnected miscellial roots, sensing and waving to others with its leafy branches, and reaching high into the sky — for the sun, for the divine, for that which fills and fuels the universal consciousness that includes all and everything.
MY MOTTO: Follow Your Nature and Nature Takes Care of You.
