So, I had this big beautiful post I’ve been drafting and revising that talks of Adahlia’s nutrient deficiencies. We’ve recently had her tested in 2 different ways, and the results were very interesting. But now I can’t pull it up. The edits appear to be gone. It’s too bad. Perhaps I will write it out again at some point, but not now.
It should suffice to say that Adahlia is low in a few key antioxidants, like Vits A and E, which is interesting and supportive if the idea that there is a pathological process at play, attacking her cells. She is also borderline low in B vitamins, particularly B12 and B6. She is low in lysine, an amino acid, but not leucine, which is what some folks have had success supplementing DBA with to achieve remission and adequate RBC production.
We are giving her a multivitamin as well as a couple amino acids, etc. Interestingly, acetyl L- carnitine, the supplement for the lysine deficiency, is an antioxidant for the brain.
This is interesting because when I first took her to see my world-renown herbal professor, he said the worst thing she was suffering from, her weakest point, was the inflammation in her brain. News to us at the time… Though it made sense, given how much she had cried as a very small baby, the pulling at her head/hair, etc.
This is interesting because the Chinese herbal formula treats hidden pathogens (and autoimmune issues) that can attack and cause inflammation in the body, and the homeopathic treats inflammation (she no longer tested positive for needing that.)
So this all sounds good, right? We are treating her, making progress, right? So why the allusion to “dark night of the soul”?
Because I just found out that my kidney function has officially become “alarming.” I am being referred to a nephrologist. (Finally?) A 30 yr old woman should have a GFR of 90. Prior to pregnancy, in 2008, mine was 100. In 2010, it was 98. In Dec 2012, 6 months after giving birth and the onset of pain on both sides, it was 83. By April of 2013, it had dropped to 64. But because the standard for a “problem” is 60, no one was very concerned yet and I had my hands and mind full and didn’t catch it. They said not to worry; I said ok. I had stent(s) placed on the right kidney because the water backup there was an obvious problem. Nothing was done for left kidney. And now, my function is 57, and people are starting to be concerned.
And I read the results in the mail, and spent the next few hours quelling panic.
I don’t believe I have be mentioned that the results also show that my kidneys have atrophied. This is one step before renal failure. Kidneys don’t regrow. This is NOT a step in the direction of health.
And I am thinking all sorts of things.
Now, I’ve called my doctor and as I said, in supposed to see a nephrologist. But this is so serious. I have a baby whom I love. I am scared.
Years ago, I wouldn’t really have minded this as much. I have a confession. I must admit that at an acutely frustrating moment of my life, a few months or a year before I got pregnant, while living in my Sellwood house, I had a flash of “I will die when I’m 33. Don’t worry about it, relax.” And you know what? I relaxed. I remember this all so clearly, as well as the quick burst of fear that came later, followed by a wry smile, because such a thing was silly. At the time, I was in the shower. I’ve been trying not to think about it. (And I’ve also spent some time countering it with things like: “I am healthy. I will die when Im 99.” …I’m not yet sure anyone’s convinced.)
Of course, that little flash, whether it was something revealed to me or something I cursed myself with, was before I was pregnant. And having a child has really changed my zen perspective on death to one where I really want to stay.
I just can’t understand this whole thing. And so instead of posting something very cerebral, very promising, very intellectual, very respectable, very scientific, about all of Adahlia’s nutritional deficiencies and our current plan to correct them, I’m going to post my spiritual consternations, a declaration, a question, and if it sounds like hocus pocus, well, so be it.
But before I get started I will say that Im not sure why she’s deficient in anything, given our diet and the New Chapter prenatal vitamins I’ve been taking to give to her via breastmilk.
Unless, my kidney issues have compromised the quality of her milk. Or she has trouble absorbing certain nutrients. Or processing them. Or needs an extreme extra amount of them, such as those that are antioxidants, because she’s undergoing and hopefully clearing a toxic disease process.
I don’t understand why this is happening because I had given myself to God, to serve as He deems fit, before I got pregnant, and gave Adahlia to God when I was pregnant.
I don’t understand because while working at the detox center, pregnant, as an acupuncture intern, after placing the acupuncture needles, I used to meditate and do reiki on the baby in my belly and myself while those in detox sst and relaxed and let the needles do their thing. I was simply giving myself and the baby a reiki treatment, but it would shift the whole room. It was palpable. Sometimes the other acupuncturists could somehow tell it came from me and would thank me. Everyone left blissed out, a little high, what have you. It was sometimes extremely profound.
My teachers at the regular clinic could tell. They referred to my work not as energy work, like qigong, but as spiritual work. As spiritual medicine is the highest form in Chinese medicine, they respected it. It helped people. One professor even asked me why I was at school, told me I didn’t need to be there. Not everyone could tell, of course. Most of my peers couldn’t. But many of the teachers could. They, too, thanked me when I did what I do. It always surprised me when folks could see something that I was doing that I couldn’t even see, because my eyes were closed when I did it, and because all I was focused on was trying to relax, open, and let it flow through me. But they could see.
There was a time, in 2010, on a massage retreat, to learn thai massage and craniosacral therapy, a totally different group of people, when one girl, a fellow student, said, “I want to give you a massage,” and also grabbed the teacher to do a dual massage and assist her. I was profoundly touched that this particular girl, on this particular day, was so eager to offer me healing. Inwardly, almost without my deciding it, I decided, “I want to give her a gift.”
And I lay down, I closed my eyes, let go, felt something disintegrate and sparkle and flash. I heard: “whoooa” and looked up to see the girl leaning back from me, shielding her eyes.
I felt weak, but sat halfway up. It was the first time anyone had seen anything. “You saw something? What did you see?” I asked.
Still blinking she said, “uh, ye-ah, i saw something! bright light, rainbow, coming out of you!”
I smiled and lay back down. “It was a gift,” I said.
I could go on and on.
I have met God, by the way. How crazy is that? But true. I’m talking the real thing, too. I’m talking being flung forward on my knees, like in Child’s Pose, but my forehead pressed to the back of my palms, like how some religions do (Muslim?) , and I can’t lift my head. I can’t move. Everything is searingly bright.
And in that reality-shattering moment, what do you think flies through my mind?
“Holy SHIT, it’s God.”
I try to pick my head up, to get a look, but its as if there is a lead foot on the nape of my neck, pressing it firmly down. Try as I might, I cannot lift my head. And I do try. The image that comes to mind is that of a giant foot, in a sandal, like an angel pushing my head down (I realize now, it was for my own protection, isn’t there something about mortals not being able to look at God? Moses or something, in the bible….)
Anyway, I realize that this incredible presence is just waiting for me, like a swirling sun, and I realize that I must be silent to hear God, and after a great deal of effort, I calm my racing thoughts enough to telepathically ask one thing: Am I doing a good job?
And I wait. And open to listening.
The answer was a flooding, loving yes….
So what is this, God? Why? I have so much to offer. I know all sorts of different ways to help people, from the strange sort of spiritual, reiki work I do, to several different forms if qigong, to diet and nutrition… plus all the people I’ve helped simply by listening and creating the the space, with gentle direction, for them to find clarity and their own light and wisdom. Why are you pulling me out of the game early?
You gave me a baby, God. I wasn’t expecting that. But it’s been beautiful and I want to stay. I want to take care of her.
I want to start a clinic.
I want to write books.
But I gave my life to you. So its not about whet I want, right?
So now what?
What about the teacher who asked for a treatment and then when I agreed, took my hand and held it firmly over his heart and pressed it tightly, almost too tightly, kind of uncomfortably, and looked at me and said, “you have such good energy” and was so childlike, so desperate, I let him keep pressing it to his heart, and let it flow?
If I die, then what? What about Adahlia? Did you give her as a thank-you gift, as an experience to enrich my life, before taking me? Did she come here to collect me? Will you then take her too?
Forgive me if I sound melodramatic, dear reader, but I want to know.
And I realize that there are thousands of young, sick people out there, and that perhaps my self-concern is selfish, but this is my life, and my child’s, and one’s life is intensely personal… and I want the best for her…
And I realize that according to Disney, you can’t be a princess if you’ve still got your mom, but…
And I don’t think it counts, for being born a Buddha, if your mom dies within a year or two after your birth. Pretty sure it’s supposed to be in the act of labor.
What, God, is the point?
Is it because I started to share some of the things I experienced, and then became embarrassed, and deleted everything?
Did I screw something up? Am I doing something wrong?
Don’t you want me to stay here and help people?
If this is autoimmune, or some strange infection, can you please stop it while I still have my own kidneys?
I know, when I was super sick about 6 months post-partum, I was pained by the idea of not breastfeeding Adahlia, and begged for that. That time is nearly up. Though I am doing everything possible to keep it up, I feel like my milk is drying up. Sometimes, it feels like shes drawing my life out of me, not just milk. And Im running out of stuff to give. Perhaps I should stop breastfeeding. But how? She cries, she needs. I would give anything to her. And as God, you probably get real sick of people constantly asking for more, more, more… but that doesn’t change the fact that I want more.
I cry. I need.
I’m trying to trust you, I really am. But kidney damage is kind of irreversible, they say. We’ve done our best to trust this process this whole time. And things are getting kind of irreversible.
I really like hiking and playing on this this planet. I don’t want to be on dialysis. How does my demise help your plan?
If the good die young, why?
I’m trying to trust you, here, I really am.
Why is Adahlia sick? Why am I sick? If its not so that we can heal, and become a powerful testament to integrative medicine and help steer the tide of folks towards a natural, balanced, spiritual and healthy life, then why are we sick? I really thought I was supposed to figure this out. To heal us.
There’s still time.
But this is up to you. I mean, it has been from the jump, and these are your doctors, your herbs, your medical discovery and technologies, but I’m at a loss. The MDs tell me to stop the Chinese herbs, they think they are aggravating my kidneys. The chinese herbal perspective of course, says just the opposite: that the herbs are fighting (helping to flush out and heal) the autoimmune or pathogenic process. If I stop them, I might go downhill fast.
What to believe? What to do?
I think I am going to stop the herbs a bit, just for awhile, just to see if I feel better or worse.
Of course, its not about right or wrong action. Whether this ends “well” or not. And as Ive said so many times before, whether something is “good” or “bad” depends on where you stop the action. A major car accident causing severe injuries? Bad. Until your doctor turns out to be the love of your life, then its not just Good, its the Best thing that ever happened to you. Until, 5 years layer, he or she then breaks your heart, then its the Worst. But then you go on vacation and have a revelation and find new purpose and direction for your life, and suddenly, again, the car was a Good thing after all.
See? It’s pointless. It’s about having too small a perspective. Its about an illusion of polarity, same that its an illusion that we have any control over these matters at all. If we heal, its because are led to the right doctors, the right therapies. If we aren’t meant to heal, nothing we do will be enough.
You’re in control. It’s your show.
Which reminds me. About that time. About another, different time. About that time when my throat closed and heart started pounding and I panicked and started to run, stumbled and fell, and suddenly I wasn’t in the hallway of my apartment anymore. I was surrounded by stars. I saw nebula and vast, endless expanse. And I saw a lattice, several, or dozens, globes of glowing green lattice set against the inky void, glowing and spinning, the energetic blueprint of hundreds of worlds turning, each dependent upon the other, layers of worlds, green, the color of the heart energy, green, the color that spread over my entire field of vision that time I spoke to inspire and the words that came flooding out were not my own, not my thoughts, all I could see or think was green, and after a moment’s panic I relaxed and let them flow off my tongue, realizing they were yours… turning, these worlds, with their green energy lattices, so beautiful, so perfectly orchestrated, spinning in the starlight, just for us, made for us, for all the countless billions of us, the trillions of kinds of us, so we can learn, so we can play, so we can grow… worlds upon worlds… endless, beautiful, symphony.
And tears flowed down my face, ran rivers down my cheeks, as I knelt there, weeping for the beauty, awash in gratitude, on the carpet in the hallway of Apartment 33.