My dad taught me the art of optimism. Most days, I can’t help but notice the silver lining in this shit storm. However, through illness I have struggled to keep my bright perspective and still convey the reality of this grizzly situation. I don’t like to complain, yet I crave understanding. Sometimes the bad days pile so high that I lose myself. Lately, my rose-colored glasses have become a little foggy.
The truth is I have been scared for my life. There have been times when I wasn’t certain I would survive this. There have been moments when my partner Rett was convinced I was dying. Now I can say that we are certain I’m going to make it. Lyme can be so difficult to comprehend because of its turbulent nature. One day I am hopeful and busy planning my upcoming farming season and ordering seeds for the coming year. The next day I am confidently calling the season off and researching residential Lyme facilities.
I have recently turned a substantial corner in my Lyme venture. Most days, I am rising out of bed and getting dressed and working, plopping seeds into tray-after -tray and facilitating their progress. After two months of physical therapy, I feel muscles coming back to me and strength that I have not felt in years. As I feel bits of myself again, colors become more vibrant and menial tasks become triumphant. I want to shout from the roof of my barn, “I swept the floor! I walked the dogs!” …and without falling over or losing my vision. These tiny tasks are considerable accomplishments after a long, dark winter.
I am not healed, but I am on my way. I have been on antibiotics for 10 months now. I take four different probiotics four times a day, and often my guts feel like I swallowed a bucket of nails. I have been religious with my health tonics, detoxing, and strengthening exercises. On top of my antibiotic regimen, pages of supplements, and prescription medications, I have been traveling every other week across state lines for biomagnetism therapy.
As I have been sick for so long, my mind has become open to just about anything that will get me well. As a society, we are so quick to judge or dismiss the more natural remedies that are far less damaging than the Western approach. Without much thought, we jump on board with extremely toxic medicine that has lasting negative impacts on our health. In the past two years, I have tried several different types of treatment, all of which had their role in getting me on the road to recovery.
Biomagnetism is certainly one of the key steps in my comeback. This therapy was invented by Dr. Goiz in Mexico nearly 30 years ago. The theory is that certain anatomical areas of the body can become either alkaline or acidic and create a habitat for bacteria and disease. The goal of biomagnetic pairing is to neutralize the bodies ph so that it can no longer be a host for pathogens. As the body is no longer a home where disease can thrive, infection retreats.
After a biomagnetism session, I can usually be found adhered to the couch due to a massive herxheimer reaction. A herxheimer reaction is the bodies response to heavy detoxification. As the body is ridding itself of illness, it often becomes hard to move or speak or think clearly. It’s feeling is like a colossal hangover minus the alcohol. There is no doubt that gigantic shifts are happening inside me.
I am not there but I am on my way. Progress has not been immediate, but I am patient—just like my dad taught me to be. I don’t have the energy for frustration or boredom. I cannot muster the strength to be pessimistic. I have no choice but to be present and rosy.