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Friday, June 17, 2016

The time my bladder revolted: the struggle is real

I don't know how it started.  I don't know why.  Maybe I should have listen to Karen and avoided the pond?  (Karen, I LOVE THE POND.)  I'm not sure.  What I do know is that my bladder was angry.  Angry like an old man in the sea.  Or something.  It was pretty angry.  10/10 ticked off.

Initially, I paused for a moment in life and looked up like a question mark was floating in a pillowy cloud above my head.  Is my bladder hurting?  It kind of feels like it's hurting.  Meh.  I probably just need to drink more water.  Okay.  Let's do that.

Fast forward to two days later.  Okay, folks, this bladder is getting seriously ticked off.  I need to do something.  A few sprays of silver ought to do the trick.

Oh, wait!  Maybe you don't know.  Are you one of the millions of people who are responding to this fascinating path of thought with, "Why didn't you just go to the freaking doctor?"  Yeah.  About that.  So, I don't really go to the doctor unless one of my limbs is laying in a bloody pile on the ground or I can see an organ coming outside of my body.  These haven't happened (yet), so I've been doctor-free for quite a while.  The rest of the crap I take care of myself.  Strep throat?  Got it.  Sinus infection?  On it.  Cold, flu, etc.  No problem.  I love the challenge!  BRING IT ON.

I can hear you already asking me why.  Really?  Okay.  I'll tell you two reasons why:

1.  Iatrogenesis is the 3rd leading cause of death in this country.  What's iatrogenesis?  It's when you get correctly treated by a (conventional) medical professional AND DIE.  This does not include being misdiagnosed, under or overprescribed, given different pharmaceuticals accidentally, getting your liver cut out instead of your gallbladder, or any of those things.  This is death by traditional and correct Western medical treatment.  Only cancer and heart disease are in front of correct medical treatment.  No offense, but this doesn't inspire tons of confidence for me, especially when I've found a pile of herbal and crunchy ways that work without side effects.

2.  Antibiotics are pure Satan.  They kill off your entire gut system.  New stuff is coming out on the horizons of discovery finding that there are more bacterial cells in your body than there are human cells.  Nope, you didn't even hear what I just said.  Let me say that again.  There are more bacterial cells in your body than there are human cells.  Antibiotics nuke the whole thing, the good, the bad, the helpful, the ugly.  Take those billions and make them ground zero.  70-80% of your immune system is in your gut.  Nuke the crap out of that while you're there.  Your endothelial layer is compromised and destroyed by antibiotics, allowing a break in that beautiful one-cell layer thick puppy, and then you have a host of horrible going on in your entire body (think intestinal permeability, a.k.a. "leaky gut" syndrome).  You contribute to the rise of the "superbug" by joining the masses and jumping on the antibiotic bus.  There's stuff out there that has become resistant to all the antibiotic ammo we have on the shelf.  That is the death of an era, my friends.  Move on or die.

By day four, I had no energy and a fever.  I was to meet up with my friends for coffee in the evening after a kid's baseball game, and I sat there like a pathetic little blob.  It was warm in the coffee shop  and I was already sweaty and unwell and I had to duck out early.  This is tragic as I usually love to lead shenanigans and uproar, but home I sadly trudged to curl up into a little antisocial ball.

(Did I keep swimming in the morning?  Why yes, of course.  Does that make sense?  No.  I know.)

I was getting progressively worse so that by Sunday afternoon (day 7), I took a four hour heavy coma nap - the kind that you try to wake up and open your eyes, but even in your dreams you are unsuccessful at doing so.  I didn't even eat lunch that day (if you know me, you know this is alarming) and I was receiving threats to be taken in to the local Urgent Care or the ER.  I fended them off with all the strength I could muster.  I'm too tired to even stand up to walk to a vehicle to go, so let's just say this isn't going to work out.  I just need to sleep.  That night was when I hit the desperate wall.  I couldn't stand up from pain, had the chills, and was so uncomfortable I couldn't stand being in my own body.  I called the MD on call.  This was desperation and defeat all in one.

ow, my life hurts, but at least I'm an artist
I explained that I had a bladder infection and asked him what he would recommend.  He sent a prescription for an antibiotic to what was supposed to be the only open local pharmacy at that time, although when he pulled up my record, he said he was not very inclined to do so as I hadn't been to the office in about 3 years (what?!  I've been well!).  After I made dinner, I planned to walk my hunchback positioned self to the vehicle and make the sad trek to the pharmacy (but was intercepted by my husband who volunteered to go for me - usually I would insist on going, but as I could barely walk to the garage, I figured it might be a good idea).  He called me 20 minutes later to let me know that the pharmacy was closed.

Okay?  God?  Am I not supposed to take this prescription?  Is this how I get the message?  Ummm...?

I had kicked in some serious concoctions by this time (silver at a correct dose, oil of oregano, usnea uva ursi, probiotics, horrible awful pressed organic cranberry juice, double turmeric, Vitamin C, bone broth, and a non-inflammatory diet) and was getting marginally better by the next day (translation: I could stand up straight without pain).  The evenings were always quite worse, however.  It was like I used up too much energy during the day and the bad guys took over at night.  I skipped swimming (now you should be really shocked).

I didn't go to the pharmacy the next day because I figured I was getting much better.  At this, I received many loving death threats from my friends and family.  I was sweetly told , "I know it blows goats, but...take the pills, you dumba--!" by one friend, a dubsmash from another that said, "I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you."  (They love me and this is how I know.)  Another said, "Just take them!  Yeesh!  You can go back to your clean life after you get rid of the infection!  Antibiotics work ya know!"  I love these people.  It was almost like they were trying to tell me something.

Did I listen?  Well, no.

I was forced to go to the pharmacy the next morning by my bossy husband who said before I did anything (I had an 8:30 meeting), I was to go and pick up that prescription OR ELSE.  Meh.  Fine.

(He didn't say I had to take the prescription, only that I had to get it.  I'm so awesome.)

I left it in packaging for a few days and then put it up in the cupboard in case I was dying at some future point, which is what it would practically take for me to ingest one of those toxic things.

Now here is the problem.  I could go on like this fighting it and being moderately sick for an indefinite amount of time, but I am up against a wall.  I have a triathlon in 5 days.  I have that large muscle fatigue that you feel after you have the flu.  I can't do a tri like this (and win anything).  This is terrifying.

I missed swimming again today because for some weird reason, I don't feel super great after I swim.  I feel the tired of a thousand years.  BUT I NEED TO PRACTICE FOR THE TRI!

This rock and a hard place is very distressing for me.

I sit here at my laptop typing this out with the toxic bottle staring at me, pulled out of the cupboard for the first time, the quandry looming over me.  It sits to the left of my laptop, beyond my pink water bottle, not so far from the probiotics, looking up at me, taunting me.  "May cause diarrhea.  If persists or becomes severe, notify DR or RPH.  Diarrhea may occur weeks to months after taking drug."  ARGH!!  That's because you'd be stripping my good happy bacteria!  UGH!  What do I do?!

So far, it's sit here and argue with myself and debate the funeral of my endothelial layer or forcing myself to sleep for the next 4 days without any running, swimming, or biking, and thus, being quite rusty for the tri (not to mention irritated and boiling mad from lack of exercise).

This is awful.

Go ahead.  Weigh in.  Tell me what you would do.  I am desperate enough that I actually may listen.  Maybe.  Probably.

Peace, love, and God help me,
Ms. Daisy

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Irony, a little bit wrinkly

Do you ever feel as if you're part of a Seinfeld episode?  It's like slight comedic irony, and you're in the middle of it.

Such a thing recently happened to me and I found it to be rather potently ironic.

Before I begin, I need you to set aside your firm belief that you hold dearly to your sweet little heart regarding your very (obviously) correct stance on vaccinations.  The main gist here is not to debate vaccinations; it is merely the space for me to express twinges of irony.  So, please, and thank you.

We can debate that on another post, I'm happy to do so.  Debate makes me ecstatic, actually.  Fires me up real nice like, gets my blood pumping all happy and my brain whirring madly.  Even when you adamantly disagree with me, I'll still usually be thrilled with you for participating in debate for the sheer joy of it all.  (You don't have to cringe, peacemakers, it's simply how some of us are wired.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

The state in which I live requires by law that if you are not current on the vaccinations of your offspring and want to enroll them in school, you must to go to a brainwashing session and sign statements that you are essentially a horrid person, member of society, and most importantly, parent.  You mustn't change the wording one iota, you must sign it as the almighty state declares it.  Otherwise, no school.  You may still claim non-medical exemptions (religious: I'm not cool with injecting aborted or otherwise fetal cells into my child; philosophical: vaccinations do not work except in very specific diseases, the dangers outweigh the potential benefits, I hate The Man, I think injecting aluminum or mercury - ethyl or methyl - into your bloodstream at any level is idiotic, whatever.).  You may also claim medical exemptions, as in your child was previously vaccine damaged or had a significant reaction.

When you do this, you must go and "be educated" by a nurse who is an agent of the county health department and have a waiver signed and stamped to prove that you went to his or her re-education (potentially, but not necessarily, in Room 101) session.  You wouldn't think of doing anything otherwise, would you, you Delta?  Nice khaki, btw.

I was not thrilled to be subjected to the state in such a manhandling type of tyrant and anti-freedomesque way, but after I thought about it for a little while, I realized that you will never change anything big without some form of conflict and that I ought to man up, pull up the big girl panties and dive in headfirst.  If they want to discuss vaccines, I will be ready.  I know why I believe what I do, and I know why I've chosen what I have for my littles, so their methods of potential intimidation and strong-arming me were of no consequence.

I am a firm believer in that how you are perceived on the outside is going to have some effect on how people treat you.  You may wish this were not so, but imagine with me, if you will - if you show up to an interview with a CEO of a Fortune 500 company with a Mickey Mouse t-shirt, ripped jean shorts, and dirty flip flops hoping to get hired on your wit and charm as a top level exec, you may have just taken a large dump on your chances.  I had a meeting with a client that day, so I was wearing a professional outfit, and I brought along my laptop for notes and ammo (if it was going to get down and dirty).  I was prepared inside and out.

As I approached the door of the building, I noticed that in order to be let in, you had to be buzzed in.  In I went.  The office within the building had the same setup, so I had to be buzzed in again.  Why is the county health department under such tight security?  This seems a bit odd to me.  Do they have a lot of people with communicable diseases banging down their doors and windows?  (Get out of here, you Ebola face!)  Or are they afraid that anti-vaxxers are going to protest them?  Either way (or whether for some other reason), I still found it to be slightly off putting.  Maybe it is for the psychological factor instead.  At any rate, that was the setup.

I was led into an otherwise starkly decorated and outdated waiting room filled with propaganda posters (of which I took a video so that I could gag and roll my eyes later for whenever my heart desired).  I sat down in that nice cushy, brown, upholstered chair and popped out my laptop and did some work.

After a few minutes, the re-education nurse appeared in the doorway to escort me to her office.

Please do not take this the wrong way.  Just listen to me and hear me out.  Let us reason together, shall we?

The middle-aged woman who appeared in the doorway was supposed to be my educator for wellness.  As an agent of the state in this specific jurisdiction and as a nurse, she ought to be a proponent for health, which would reflect in her own person, her habits, and in her lifestyle.  I fully expected her to be healthy and well with her vast knowledge of health, medicine, and wellness.  The woman who appeared in the doorway did not represent health.  She represented the epitome of morbidly obese.  From what I guessed her biometrics to be, her BMI would have been near 60.  She had a significant difficulty walking because of it.

Hold up, before you think I am prejudiced against the obese.  I understand that there are people out there who have conditions that affect weight.  I know that there are people with thyroid issues that mess up your weight, your metabolism, and all the rest.  I understand that your genetics play a factor in your weight.  I get it.  Perhaps all of these things were true for her.  I didn't ask.  That isn't the point.  The point is that she was not well.  She could not walk!  The underlying reason was unknown to me, but the blatant fact was clear - she was not the image of someone in good health, yet she was going to instruct me on topics of health and wellness!

I sat down at the desk in her (also starkly decorated) office and took a quick look around at my surroundings.  Her desk was very plain, but it contained a few things that sent warning signals off in my head.  There was the occasional pile of paper, but my eyes landed on the few non-paper items on her desk: an Arby's disposable cup filled with a dark brown liquid, a highly perfumed and scented lotion from a well-known lotiony store, and a Costco-sized container with a pump top of an anti-bacterial hand goo.

Dear holy God in heaven above, please help this lady!  Do you not know that your weight is likely connected to your endocrine system and you are murdering it in every direction?  I've been here for four seconds and I can tell you three things that you are doing that are torturing your hormones and screwing with your metabolism!  You're a NURSE for Pete's sake!  Do you really not know this or are you just ignoring the information that is out there that would help you to feel better, lose weight, and have more energy?  If the former, then why are you educating me on what it is to be well when you don't know it yourself?  If it is the latter, what other information are you ignoring in order to get through your life?

Your dark brown liquid (please say this isn't a diet pop, please, please, tell me it isn't) likely contains a cauldron of chemicals that affect your calcium and phosphorus balance in your body, enough sugar to make you sprint your way to Type II diabetes, ruin your immune system, and artificial flavors and colors (Caramel color?  Oh that's just ammonia burned with sugar.  That's probably really good for you.).  The smelly lotion that is sitting on your desk is a bazooka to your endocrine system and a pile of parabens just waiting to water and plant cancerous seeds into your body.  The antibac goo shines gloriously in triclosan, which fosters endocrine disruption, bacterial and compounded antibacterial resistance, not to mention how it also contaminates our water system and pollutes the world (and yes, of course it's banned in Europe, but we're always behind in what we allow because the government is too busy making out with the companies who make the chemicals to be bothered with the health of the masses to do anything).

But please, tell me how I can be healthy and make my offspring so.

I suppose we don't really have to make sense when we're working with the government, but this is mind-blowingly insane.

She sneezed.  She said that the weather was wonderful, but for allergy sufferers, it was really something else.  She reached over and pumped a large glob of goo onto her hands and slathered it all over herself.  My soul inside my body was doing that thing that you used to do as a child when you slinked down your chair at the table and onto the floor like a spineless snake.  The frustration, irony, and pathetic nature of it all could not be contained.  (She needs Norwex.  I shall help.)

She handed me a pile of lovely pastel papers listing the reasons the CDC declared it utterly and completely safe to inject infants, babies, and children with vaccines, even though they contain polysorbate-80 (infertility agent), formaldehyde (carcinogen), thimerosal (neurotoxin), aborted fetal tissue, aluminum derivatives (Alzheimer's please), MSG (excitotoxin), sorbitol/aspertame/sucrose (ohhhhhhmyyyyyyyyyyygooooooooooosh), chick embryos, monkey cells, mouse serum proteins, vesicle fluid from calf skins, and so much more.

The bottom line is this - if you are going to be a representative of good health, you ought to be generally well.  Yes, there are times of illness, obviously.  That's life.  Yes, there are times when you do something stupid that will affect your health.  There are times when you just choose that chocolate cake over carrots, and that may be your moderation.  I get it.  But if you are specifically employed to educate people on health and wellness and disease avoidance, should you not exemplify some aspects of wellness?

My dear friends who are physicians and nurses and health coaches - we've got to be the example.  How will people believe you otherwise?  Why should they?  Please take care of yourselves so you can take care of others.  Who else will lead the world in a charge toward health?  We need you.  May I encourage and implore you to fulfill your calling well.

You know I totally am going to sell that lady some Norwex and yes, I did give her my health coaching card.

She told me that if my offspring weren't updated next year and each year following on their vaccinations that I'd need to come back and do this annually.

See you next year, my dear.

Peace, love, and please be well,
Ms. Daisy