Just a tweak

 I’m a fan of traditional western medicine for the most part, but I’m also open to the healing insights of other traditions. I’ve even ministered in the area of inner emotional healing. This past week I experienced another type of non-traditional healing work.

Hal and I spent the week with our daughter Kristin and her family in their home in the forest. Kristin and David (our son) had gifted me with four sessions with a practitioner in natural medicine. This woman is a Christian with a gift in healing and training in massage and in the alleviation of allergies through muscle testing. Kristin had found relief from her headaches under the care of this woman. The kids thought she might help me with my vestibular migraines. I’m open to any help I can get. It was a generous and loving gift.

It was an interesting experience and I’m still processing it. (One of my processing strategies is writing—so you’re helping me right now as I write.) The first session included an hour-long massage that was delicious, followed by muscle testing during which my body told her that the emotion of pity was blocking my healing. What she meant by pity was inappropriate or excessive compassion. I thought of my deep reactions to the suffering in Gaza or the trauma currently faced by immigrants in my own country. In response, she had me hold a jar containing some substance related to pity while she did some pounding/rolling work on my back. She explained she was retraining the nerves in my body so they would respond in more wholesome ways. I didn’t, and still don’t, understand it, but I had told myself ahead of time to be open and just let God work anyway he wanted to. I left the session feeling a deep peace.

During the second session the woman led me in a time of inner healing concerning traumatic events that took place over nine years ago, around the time my dizziness and head pressure were beginning to trouble me. It was very revealing. I know that we are whole creatures, that body, mind, and emotions interact. I thought that I had already made peace with the events, all concerning conflicts in my faith community. But apparently I still had some healing work to do. Or have done to me, as she again gave me a vial to hold while she worked on my back and prayed.

In the following two sessions, my body “told” her that it doesn’t metabolize proteins like it should and that it has problems with heavy metals. The information about proteins especially fascinated me as I know that protein imbalance is a recognized problem in all kinds of migraines. The exercises with holding different vials and her work on my back were to reorient my bodily systems and help them function correctly. So mysterious.

Like I said, I may be baffled but I’m holding my heart open to healing from any source of light. I do feel a great sense of peace and lightness since the treatments, although the dizziness and head pressure haven’t noticeably reduced. I’ve been told before that my rational left-brain and my intuitive right-brain are well balanced. In other words, I’m able to hold doubt and belief together and just wait to see what happens. I’m ok with weird.

I believe in what my traditional doctor is doing, in the medicines she’s experimenting with. And I certainly believe in prayer. I’m also open to the possibility that this condition might be like St. Paul’s “thorn in the flesh,” something God is letting me live with for his own purposes. More mystery.

Back to prayer, here’s a prayer/poem I wrote a year ago. It’s in the form of a conversion between me and God.

Just a Tweak

    Yes, Lord. It’s me again,
    here in this new day.

Good morning, dear one. Well come.
What can I do for you today?

    Thanks for asking. (Even though
    you already know the answer,
    your courtesy encourages me.)
    And thank you for this awesome
    body/mind/spirit.
    I am wonder-full at how
    wonderfully and fearfully
    I am made.

    But since you asked,
    could you just tweak
    this body a little?
    I know I’m growing older
    and that a bit of wear ’n tear is natural,
    but is this particular malfunction
    really necessary?
    Just a tweak, God. That’s all I’m asking.
    You can do it if you want to.

I want.

    Okay, then. That’s what I’m asking for.
    Here, let me sing my prayer to you.

    Have mercy on me and heal me.
    Set me feet upon a rock.
    Put a new song in my heart.
    O Lord, have mercy on me.

Okay. But you’ll have to let me do this
my way, in my time.

    Yes, God. My times are in your hands.
    I’ll wait.
    And in the meantime
    I thank you for your grace
    and your artistry in making me.
    And I anticipate the tweak.

    Amen.

On being a medical experiment

 With the help of Google Maps, we found our way to the large medical complex in a neighboring city. Our destination—the cancer center of the medical research university that is overseeing my treatment for vestibular migraine. No, I don’t have cancer, but having to get my infusion in the cancer center impressed me with a sense of gravity.

This was the latest chapter in the medical experiments I’m undergoing to find, if not a cure, some relief from the dizziness and head pressure that have been pestering me for about ten years. That seems like a long time, but hope holds steady. Having a sympathetic doctor willing to try anything helps.

I entered the center, checked in, and a nurse led me to a long open room set up with what looked like large dental chairs. About 15 of them. She told me to pick my chair, so I chose one facing a window with a view of trees. Trees always comfort me and give me courage. This experiment would not be via pills or injections, but rather an IV infusion directly into the blood stream. 

But let me back up. Several years back when I began complaining about my dizziness, my primary care physician began putting me through a series of tests and referring me to numerous specialists. Over a period of three years, I had an MRI, CT scan, x-rays of my carotid arteries, sleep apnea test, and other tests I can’t remember. Specialists included a neurologist; ear, nose, and throat guy; audiologist, allergist; sleep doctor; and physical therapist. The physical therapist was the most helpful; she told me that although she couldn’t do anything about the dizziness, she could give me good balance strategies. It worked; I have yet to fall. But each of these tests and specialists came to the same conclusion—we find nothing wrong with you.

At the end of this period, my PCP told me, “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong and there’s nothing more I can do to help you.” She gave up. I secretly wondered if she and all the other specialists had come to the conclusion that there really was nothing wrong with me, that I was a highly imaginative hypochondriac. I began wondering that myself.

So I changed health-care plans and found a new doctor in a university research hospital, a neurologist who specializes in headaches and dizziness. (I had had no idea such a doctor existed.) Having access to all my medical records, she was able to diagnose me during our first virtual consultation. This was during the height of the pandemic; I didn’t get to meet her in person for a year. 

It felt wonderful to have a doctor who believed me and took my symptoms seriously. And it felt wonderful to finally have a name for this thing—vestibular migraine. (I had had no idea that such a condition existed.) She told me that there was as of yet no known cure for this type of migraine, but that researchers and drug companies were working on it. Would I like to become part of the experimentation? My treatments and their results would be entered into a research database and, hopefully, we would find something that would help me. Yes! I absolutely would like to participate. I was tired of being passive. And maybe I could help other people.

So began my new life as a medical experiment. That was three years ago and I’m still contributing to that database. The first treatment was several months of vitamin and mineral therapy; I really wanted that one to work, but I perceived no improvement. That has been followed by 11 different drug experiments, each one taking several months. The second drug, Lamotrigine, actually helped reduce the intensity of the symptoms and I continue taking a small dose every morning. But it’s not enough, so the experiments continue. The actual drug list is impressive and (to me) funny. Here it is (please free to skim this sentence): Rizatriptan, Lamotrigine, Verapamil, Amigriptyline, Gabepentin, Memantine, Cyproheptadine, Meclizine, Emgality, Amiovig, and Eptinezamab. Are you as impressed as I am? Most of these are not primarily aimed at migraines but are sometimes found helpful. For example, the Lamotrigine I’m still on is used mainly for epilepsy and bi-polar syndrome. 

The last three drugs are relatively new and used exclusively for migraine sufferers. This last year I have been on extensive experiments with Emgality and Aimovig. I’m proud of myself as they both required that I give myself a monthly injection in the stomach, something I never thought I’d be able to do. But I learned to do it without trauma. 

The good news is that none of these scary sounding drugs had any adverse effects. The bad new is that they had no good effects either. After each experiment, I had to say that I felt no change for the better. In fact, my condition seems to be getting more intense with time.

So now, there I was in the cancer hospital, sitting in the huge chair, looking out at the trees, and wondering if this next experiment was going to be the ONE. The IV infusion took half an hour, then I sat there another hour to make sure there were no adverse reactions. And then Hal and I drove home. That was two weeks ago. This infusion will last for three months, and then I am to repeat it. So far—no reactions. But no change either. The nurse said that it might take time to see if this would prove to be helpful. (Where have I heard that before?)

In my last office visit I asked my beloved doctor what advances the research was making. Such an honest woman, she responded that because my condition is relatively rare, it has a low priority ranking. Most investigation is focused on diseases like cancer or Alzheimer’s. That makes sense, although it’s not personally encouraging. No advances have been made, she told me.

Still, I’m glad she wants to experiment. We will find something that helps you, she says. She gives me hope.

But my hope is becoming more tempered by realism. After so many experiments, I’m not so expectant that with this new infusion my life will turn around and I’ll be able to skip into old age without getting dizzy. I don’t think I’m becoming cynical. Realistic might be a better word. But it may be that one day I’ll just decide to stop the experiments.

And, of course, I take note of all the good people, with chronic conditions much worse than mine, who carry them until they die. 

So I’ve decided to just keep saying thank you. Not for my migraines. Not for the drugs that don’t work. I not thankful for any of that. But just thank you. Just thank you.

Thank you thank you thank you. Over and over. Yes yes yes to whatever you permit. Repeat  repeat repeat.

I’m no kind of holy experiment to God. God doesn’t need research to discover what’s best for me. I’m his beloved daughter.

We’ll see what happens in the next few months. I wouldn’t mind putting all this dizzy stuff behind me.

But in the meantime, I have more than enough to be thankful for.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Adventures with alternative medicine

 I had no experience with alternative medicine growing up. Our family went to Dr. Steffy who lived up on Steffy Lane. He gave us our vaccinations and treated our ailments and prescribed our medications. The terms naturopathy, acupuncture, or even chiropractic doctor were not part of the vocabulary. My intellectual, rational, professorial father set the medical agenda for our family. Western medicine was the only option.

Since then, having lived in other countries, I’ve become aware that there are other options, that other cultures have different perspectives and practices I do well to be open to. Still, the old engrained ways persist.

Four years ago, I was diagnosed with vestibular migraines, a chronic condition with no known cure. I admire and trust my doctor, a medical researcher as well as a physician, all in the Western tradition. We have been experimenting with different drugs these last years, only one of which has helped a little. In the current experiment, I am giving myself a shot in the stomach once a month. (It’s actually not as grim as it sounds. If I can do it, you could, too.)

The year of my diagnosis was 2020, so I met via Zoom with my doctor for two years. At the same time, since the medications weren’t proving helpful, I decided to do some experiments of my own and I began meeting with a naturopath who specializes in holistic energy medicine. We also met on Zoom. She opened up a fascinating new perspective of the human body and its healing energies, coming from an ancient tradition in India. I carried to our meetings a combination of skepticism and openness, but wanting relief from my condition and willing to try anything. 

I met with her over a year and learned about my chakras (energy centers in my body) and meridians (energy channels). The exercises were actually fun as I rotated my hands over my chakras and then traced my meridians from my toes to my head in precise patterns. But at the end of the year my migraines were no better and the nice doctor told me she had no experience with people in my condition and didn’t think she could help me. She did tell me, however, that during our year together, my auras had remarkably improved.

My migraine doctor’s research has led her to believe that diet has no part to play in my condition or its cure. But my skeptical brain tells me food must make a difference. Finally I discovered, on the Internet of course, a cookbook called The Dizzy Cook, written by a woman with vestibular migraines. Not a doctor herself, she’s researched and come to the conclusion that a low-tyramine diet is the answer. I had never heard of tyramine before, but I read up on it and decided to give the diet a try. I’ve had to eliminate all sorts of lovely foods, the most painful being coffee, chocolate, cheese, and yogurt. I confess, I cheat a little, from time to time. So maybe it’s my fault that the diet seems to be making no difference.

Here are some of the other alternative paths I’ve wandered down: a grounding pad on our bed that drains unhealthy electricity from our bodies as we sleep; magnetic insoles in my shoes; an air-freshener that dispenses essential oils; a session on a quantum bed (vibration and sound therapy); Japanese body-cleansing foot pads; and Chinese Feng Fu ice therapy.

Let me elaborate on these last three. They are recent experiments, all part of a Christmas gift my imaginative and quite healthy daughter gave me. Kristin accompanied Hal and me to the home of her friend, Kandy, who owns a quantum bed and offers her services as a ministry to people with all sorts of ailments. The bed uses vibration and sound to affect the body’s inner voltage and heal both mind and body. Something like that. 

We all three wanted to try out this mysterious wonder. I went first. The bed is steel and hooked up to a machine that regulates vibrations and sounds. As instructed, I lay down with my knees up and my bare feet flat on the bed. I placed my hands at my side, palms down. Fortunately, a pillow and a warm blanket were provided. I was alone and the small room was then darkened. Kandy tuned on the machine and the bed began vibrating at changing frequencies, accompanied by weird humming sounds that varied in pitch and beat. I had already decided to relax and fully experience whatever might happen. I closed my eyes. I had just re-read CS Lewis’s book, Out of the Silent Planet, and I imagined I was in a snug space capsule zooming through the universe. The eerie sounds were the stars and planets singing, with maybe a few angels thrown in. I prayed to the Holy Spirit to heal me as I zoomed through outer space for a half-hour. I was almost disappointed when my time was up.

I enjoyed the experience, but, so far, I can’t sense any changes to my head pressure or dizziness. Maybe I need to take the space trip on a regular basis for a year.

The Japanese “Deep-Cleansing Foot Pads” claim to be “100% Traditional Wisdom,” and are used to draw out the toxins that the body absorbs through food, drink, and environmental pollution. The patches are filled with bamboo vinegar, loquat leaf, wood vinegar, and houttuynia cordate-thumb (also known as Chinese lizard tail). According to the instructions, I attached the patches to the bottoms of my feet for five nights in a row. When I removed them the first morning, the white patches had turned a dirty black, giving evidence of the toxin removal. The patches were supposed to come off progressively cleaner each morning, but my patches were all dirty black. Does that mean my body has more toxins than normal?  I’ll repeat the experiment in a couple of weeks and see how it turns out.

Finally, my favorite—Feng Fu Ice Therapy. According to the description on the pamphlet, “Feng Fu Ice Therapy is an ancient Chinese practice, dating back thousands of years. We all have a Feng Fu point which can be found at the base of the skull, where it connects to the top of the spine. The Feng Fu point is one of our body’s key pressure points.” The contraption consists of a neck brace with a pouch in back where a small cold steel ball is inserted. The brace fits snuggly around the neck with the cold ball pressing into the Feng Fu point (which I didn’t even realize I had). I just sit quietly for 20 minutes each morning and again each evening, enjoying the sensation. It is relaxing, although the steel ball is so cold it actually stings at first. This is supposed to “refresh and rejuvenate” my body. (I keep the steel ball in the freezer when not in use.)

I haven’t yet tried acupuncture, partly for economic reasons. I may someday. If I can inject myself in the stomach, surely I can put up with the needles of alternative medicine. 

I appreciate the medicinal wisdom of other cultures, although I certainly don’t understand most of it. I also greatly appreciate my own neurologist and plan to cooperate with all her medical experiments.

I pray for healing every day and gratefully receive the prayers of others. I know that ultimately God is my healer and God can use any method or none at all. That’s known as a miracle.

I also know that many good people never find healing from chronic conditions or terminal diagnoses. I am no more worthy than my friends who have recently died from cancer. It doesn’t seem to necessarily be a matter of faith. I’m still a believer, even though none of the above has helped much. 

So, whatever happens, I may as well enjoy myself along the way. If that means tracing my meridians, putting an icy steel ball on the base of my neck, zooming through space in a vibrating capsule, or sleeping with sticky foot pads, so be it.

Lord, have mercy on me. Amen.

For flexible fingers and white chocolate—thanks!

 Several years ago, as a spiritual exercise, I chose seven values that I wanted to describe my character. All these traits are faith statements, something to grow toward. The first value on my list is gratitude. Some days I find it easy to be grateful. Other days I don’t. Gratitude when times are hard or I’m feeling especially tired is something good to aim for.

Today I’m both dizzy and grateful. It’s thanksgiving week. It seems ironic that we give only one day of the 365 to officially designate as a day of thanksgiving, but at least our culture does that much. I’m aiming for 365 unofficial thankful days, although without the turkey and cranberry sauce.

I made a short list this morning of some specific things I’m grateful for at this time.

I’m grateful….

--for a grandson who wants to include his grandparents in his life. Friday night we gathered with some of his friends at his house to begin our annual Lord of the Rings marathon. Last night he invited us to come with other friends to see the movie Bonhoeffer. All these young adults seemed to enjoy including us grandparents. He comes to the retirement home to eat lunch with us every week. I don’t take any of that for granted.

--for a husband with flexible fingers. Hal suffers from trigger finger (and he doesn’t even own a gun). It’s a strange and painful condition where his fingers curl in toward the palm and he has to force them to unbend. He is currently recovering from an operation in his left hand that is already correcting the condition. We believe in prayer for healing. We’re also thankful for advances in modern medicine that bring about this type of miraculous healing.

--for white chocolate and SWP coffee. I have a chronic condition called vestibular migraine and two of the food triggers that intensify the dizziness are chocolate and coffee. Can you imagine? Two of my favorite foods! But, and this is the thankful part, I’ve discovered the exceptions to the rule: white chocolate and SWP coffee! I’ve found a German white chocolate that is just as good as the real stuff. And, better yet, SWP (Swiss Water Processed) decaf coffee also tastes like the real thing, because it is real coffee. My early morning comfort drink.

--for a quirky orchid plant that won’t give up. My son gave it to me for some occasion earlier this year, a tall plant with lovely purple orchids. It bloomed for several months, then the flowers dried up and fell off. But I continued to water it once a week and kept it in the bedroom, out of sight because it looked so strange: broad leaves low in the pot, and three long stems (12-18 inches) fastened to sticks. No blooms. But a week ago I noticed eight buds at the end of the long stems. Today two flowers bloom and six buds are about to open. I’ve put it back in the living room. Beautiful. I’m sure there’s a good moral lesson in this. Maybe I’ll think of it tomorrow.

--for the expectation of a wonderful thanksgiving dinner with eleven family members. I’m hosting it, but I don’t have to cook, and I can’t adequately express how grateful I am for that. Our retirement community puts on a marvelous thanksgiving spread and encourages us to invite family. One of the many perks of living here.

--for God’s sovereignty over history—world history, national events, and my own small story. I’m stirring up my faith to rest in the fact that God knows what’s happening in our nation at this time, and that no matter how disappointed or nervous I feel, I can trust that the Spirit of God is on the move and will watch over all his people.

In our Sunday school class this week, the convener told of an exercise that I’m going to try this year. At the end of each day, I’m to write in my journal one specific thing I’m grateful for in the last 24 hours. I will try to do this for a year (or at least until the end of this year). But the thing is, I can’t repeat anything. It has to be something new each day. That sounds challenging, which is what an exercise is supposed to be. I anticipate it will cause me to dig and find more things to be grateful for, things or experiences or people I wouldn’t normally consider as blessings. I plan to read back over my list at the end of every month. (The plan is to read the list after a year—but each month sounds like more fun.)

I’ll let you know how it turns out.

What are you grateful for? Be specific!