Experimenting with Alternative Healing

I find it fascinating how we develop certain perceptions, some of them valid, some unfounded, that influence our habits in life.

Even as a teenager, I had a deep-rooted aversion to pharmaceutical drugs.  I preferred to suffer a brutal headache rather than swallow a pill.  After the surgery from my first (and largest) muscle biopsy, I agreed to take some painkillers only after I passed out from the pain.  And when my tooth popped out after a fall, it took some forceful persuasion by my scientist cousin to get me to take antibiotics to avoid infection.  And it’s probably a good thing I listened to him; the tooth was pushed back into my gums and healed quite nicely.

When my first neurologist misdiagnosed me with polymiositis, and he prescribed prednisone, I was hesitant at first, then terrified when a little research revealed all the side effects—weight gain, osteoporosis, glaucoma, cataracts, depression, infection and countless others. So my neurologist suggested I get a second opinion, and I’m so grateful he did—years later I found out that patients with some kinds of muscular dystrophy often get weaker and may suffer irreversible damage to the muscle if put on prednisone. 

Since there is no conventional treatment available to me, it is only natural that I would experiment with alternative therapies.  Just trying something, anything, keeps fuelling a glimmer of hope. Ironically, my suspicious treatment of allopathic medicine is counterbalanced by my quick trust (and sometimes gullibility) when alternative medicine is involved. 

I’ve tried different diets, taken various supplements, dripped Unda drops under my tongue, rubbed blessed oil from Syria on my skin, experimented with Reiki, visited two different biotherapists, met with a hypnotherapist and a medium, trifled with NLP, and exposed myself to the healing waves of strange machines.  I’ve read Dreamhealer Adam’s and Jose Silva’s books and combined their ideas to devise visualization routines, and I’ve learned a few meditation tips from a yoga therapist.

It’s really hard to tell if any of it has helped because I don’t think I persisted with one therapy long enough to see results.  It is also possible that had I not experimented with some of these therapies, I might be worse off now.  How will I ever know?

There was one unusual occurrence.  Upon the recommendation of my sister’s friend E., I tried NAET (Nambudripad’s Allergy Elimination Techniques).  It was about 6 years ago, between misdiagnosis #1 and misdiagnosis #2.  I didn’t know I had MD at the time, so I thought why not try it, even if I didn’t think I had allergies.  At that time, I could still walk up stairs, but laboriously, and I could still get up from a regular chair, but with difficulty.  When I first saw the NAET practitioner, he tested me using a special computerized allergy-testing machine.  Then he stimulated various points on my back using acupressure while I held glass vials filled with liquid, (which I imagined contained the allergen.)  It all seemed a bit voodooish and I couldn’t help giggle inwardly during the odd experience.  He finished off with an acupuncture session. I was then instructed to avoid all contact with the specific allergen for 25 hours, which proved to be quite challenging.  Once I had to avoid eating anything with vitamin A, which I realized comprises a lot of my diet and left me with a limited choice of food for a day.   Another time, I had to avoid metal.  Not easy!  I remember going to a summer festival feeling a little silly wearing white cotton gloves to prevent metal from touching my skin.

The evening after my very first NAET treatment I experienced unusual results.  I suddenly felt an inordinate boost of energy.  I tried going up the stairs, and was surprised at how easy it felt.  My boyfriend at the time was just as dumbfounded as I was when I marched up and down the flight of stairs three, four, five times!  Then I sat in a fairly low chair and got up effortlessly, sat again, and got up without any trouble.  I was ecstatic!!!  I started jumping around, going up and down the stairs again, grinning madly, thinking I had finally found my miracle cure.  Unfortunately the effect wore off after a few days, and even after several months of NAET treatments, the incredible surge of strength was never repeated.

Some members of my family think it might not have had anything to do with NAET; they suspect it was really the trial run of an IVIG treatment I was given two weeks prior to the curious incident.  When I mention my experiences to different neurologists, they shrug their shoulders and seem to dismiss what I relate to them as probably my imagination.

I wonder if it was a combination of the IVIG, the NAET and cupfuls of green tea I drank that particular evening.  But I’ll never know, because the doctors are disinclined to try the IVIG again, and with good reason.  It is very expensive.

Just recently, I thought of the NAET treatment again.  My friend D. was telling me about his friend who has a severe case of Crohn’s disease, which affects the gastrointestinal tract.  That’s what my sister’s friend E. had.  After six months of NAET treatments, E. no longer had to follow a restricted diet or take steroids.  Five years later, she’s still symptom-free.  Coincidentally (I love synchronicity!), I was going to see E.—whom I hadn’t spoken with in many years—two weeks after D. mentioned his friend.  So I asked her again about her experience with NAET and found myself interested in the therapy once again.  Maybe I’ll give it another try.

Another treatment I persisted with was reflexology.  The first time I tried it, I was expecting a nice foot massage, so I was unprepared when the little man started poking me in the foot with a rounded stick.  It hurt so much! I found myself squirming in my seat, trying to pull my feet away, whimpering ooos and aaas and ouches!  Meanwhile, Mr. T was cracking me up with laughter as he tried to convert me to vegetarianism in his heavy Chinese accent: “This is Chinese torture!  hehehe! No Pain, no gain!!  Do you eat meat?  Do you treat your body like a coffin?  Your body is a morgue, that’s why your feet are hurting.  Healthy people’s feet don’t hurt as much!”  I couldn’t tell if my tears were from the laughter or the pain.

Despite the pain, I continued seeing the Chinese torturer—as he called himself—for almost two years.  He and his wife were so kind and caring, and very eager to convert me to their belief system.  They often invited me to stay for delicious vegetarian dinners after my treatments.  And within a few weeks, I became a strict vegetarian myself.  I’m amazed how quickly I went from eating just about anything to cutting out all animals from my diet, including cheeses with rennet and marshmallows with gelatin—and I do love a good Rice Krispies square!  At first I did it for health reasons, then my reasons became more spiritual, add to that animal rights and the environment. I had become so serious about my commitment to vegetarianism that I remember once biting into a vegetarian-looking pizza and feeling a sense of shock and panic when I discovered sneaky pepperoni slices hiding under the sauce.

After 4 years of strict vegetarianism, and after carefully considering the advice of several other healers, and after many months of internal debate, I finally have started including some animal flesh as part of my diet, but with reluctance…and respect for the animal.

The two years I saw Mr. T. for reflexology and suction cup therapy, although I did not improve dramatically, I did maintain my strength.  But I also started becoming uneasy with his teachings.  Most (but not all) of his beliefs mirrored my own; yet I felt a sense of discomfort, a feeling that the path along which he wanted to lead me was not the right one for me.  So I stopped seeing him.

There are so many alternative healing options out there, and there was a time I would stress about whether I was trying the right one.  Adding to my anxiety were my well-meaning friends and family who thought I was being duped and often led me to doubt my choices.  People say investing in your health is the most important thing you can do.  But what if you’re using your limited resources to invest in the wrong therapy, and how long should you wait to see results?

I don’t worry anymore.  I just trust that the right healers will cross my path at the right time.

During my fall crisis last year—which I feel was a very much-needed wake-up call—I frantically renewed my search for healing solutions.  A relative mentioned the Bruno Groening Circle of Friends, and I was able to convince a friend to accompany me to one of their meetings.  But the many stairs and late night weekday meetings left me unmotivated to attend again.  Yet, I did benefit greatly from contacting the BGCF: one of the organizers mentioned the biotherapist P. to me.

When I first met the wonderful P. I felt as if the room where he worked his magic was brimming with goodness and uplifting energy.  He and his wife are so warmhearted.  Just to be in their presence is motivation enough for me to face my fears of going to unfamiliar places alone.  The first few times, I drove to the underground parking of their clinic, waited for any person to walk by and—contrary to my nature—I would ask the stranger to help me cross the parking garage.  Most of the time the people were very friendly and helpful.  The last person I asked eyed me suspiciously and reluctantly walked me across to the other side.   I felt bad after that experience, but it didn’t stop me from seeing P. as often as I could during his short stay.  It just prompted me to find a better solution.  I started to plan my arrival during less busy hours when the few parking spots on the elevator side of the garage were usually free.  They were further away from the entrance, but from those spots I could walk along a wall all the way to the elevators.  After my session, P.’s wife would ask one of the other patients to walk me back to my car.

I am so looking forward to P.’s return, not because I need his healing, but because he and his wife are such wonderful people.  In fact, I don’t think I need a healer anymore.  I feel that a switch has been turned on within me—a click of the mind, a shift inside my body.  I really feel that these days I am thinking my way to healing and it’s starting to happen.

I remember vaguely one of the daily Abraham-Hicks quotes saying that a healer’s job is to make the patients believe they can heal.  I always believed, but now I know it and feel it from the depths of my being.