Osteoporosis and more, chronic case for David _{Page 9 of 16}

I have so many symptoms and history that even I can't remember them all. I'll try to write up a list of the surgeries and afflictions. My sense of time and remembering dates is very bad but I'll try to put it in chronological order. This could take quite a while but I'll do my best.

Thanks...

While I'm thinking about the Raynaud's, there is a strong family component to it. My dad had it as well as the Dupuytren's. My grown son has Raynaud's also. He inherited that and Gilbert's(high bilirubin) from me.

What's interesting is that the Raynaud's was much worse before I went on hydroxyzine and zantac (H1 and H2 blockers for mastocytosis) Before that my fingers would even turn white in the heat of the summer. It's been very much better, other than the one summer in 2005 when I weaned myself off all of the drugs other than thyroid. I remember that summer my fingers were freezing again... especially when I held metal.

Fascinating about the crocodile!

Do you want symptoms from way back or just for the more recent time period.

For starters, I can tell you that just reading that question and having to think about my health history and traumatic memories attached to them make my heart race and I get very agitated and shut down. Too many bits and pieces and memories attack me. I need to stop, breathe and get back to peace.

I'll try to work on it over the weekend. This has been a very big problem for all health practitioners. My mind shuts down and I can't think to answer the simplest questions relating to the health symptoms. It's very difficult to not only remember but stay with the memories. It is extremely threatening. It's very much like PTSD. I actually think it must be a very big piece of the right remedy. I feel very threatened. I want to make it stop. My mind is too filled up with bits and pieces of answers and memories. It's not just health related stuff either. I could never take tests even if I knew the info well. In high school I would fall asleep every time I began taking tests.

Whew! 'what happens, what it feels like, what makes it worse, better etc' brought up the most anguish I've had all day! And that makes me feel stupid, frustrated, and need to run and hide.

Bits and pieces...

I'm asked a question having to do with my physical symptoms and the very moment I begin gathering what the answer is I'm flooded with a vortex, or tornado, of words or parts of words and quick intense feelings with parts of memories, probably because there are too many thoughts to get out and if I do catch a thought it will make me remember things I don't want to remember. I have always felt that words are so cheap. For most people it is too easy to say words like I Love You and the next moment they do something that more clearly suggests the opposite. Bits and pieces must be the fragments in my mind that are not safe to be completed because it's not safe or it's too much to process. It's too much and too fast and too easy to be humiliated by my poorly formed answers that can't possibly tell all that I'm thinking in just words. As I think of it now, the serious cognitive issues I've had during masto flares are just my life-long word processing issues but much, much worse.

Bits and pieces... fragments of thoughts that should be able to be put together easily and rationally but I feel too much so I must stop the process before I'm seriously harmed.

I've never really felt comfortable with words. That's why I have always felt so comfortable with babies and my pets. There is no problem communicating when words are not used. That's probably the source of my hearing loss, even though there are several physical reasons for it. Witnessing body language and feeling touch is much more honest and expansive than words. If I say one word for my own thought, the other person has a different thought for that same word. Two people think they are having a great conversation, on the same page, but they are both in their own world with their own understanding of what was said. As a child and on, I was constantly humiliated for saying the wrong thing or not saying the right thing, or talking to slow, or getting beet red while trying to explain myself. So I guess when I try to answer any simple question I'm trying to arrange it in my head and edit faster than I'm capable of. With questions about my health issues there are too many traumatic memories to add to the tornado of bits and pieces of words, feelings, memories. Too much and too fast so I shut down to save myself.

Hi David, You probably don't want this kind of info from so far back but this was the mild beginning. I really remember very little. As my life progressed, my health issues became more and more complicated and impacted my life more and more. I will try to continue tomorrow. I'm leaving out the emotional stuff in hopes of being able to remember more and write it out.

One thing I should mention before I forget, that is an unusual piece, is that I have lots of trouble recognizing peoples faces, even friends and family that I see often or even daily. I figured there must be a rubric for that.

***

Birth - induced a few weeks early because the doctor did not want his vacation interupted. I was barely 5 pounds.
Born with inguinal hernia on right side. I think I was also jaundiced.

First year of life hospitalized with severely high fevers.

I was very shy and hid behing my mom's skirt always hugging stuffed animal and sucking my right thumb.

Double pneumonia at about 8 years of age and missed a month or two of school.

Several years in school I had frequent strange small hard blister-like pimples on palms of my hands that were very painful.

Several years in mid childhood every time I would step in the warm (not hot) shower or bath my feet would burn in agony.

Many years of traumatic nightmares. Ate my meals very slowly. Felt so humiliated most every family dinner that it would make me run from the table to my bedroom.

Early teenagehood I began having more health problems. Very stiff swollen fingers when I got to school each day and had serious trouble writing. The face flushing became more severe and was told it was a butterfly rash but tests for RA were negative.

Two separate awful memories having to do with my arm being pulled with intense shoulder pain that was never taken seriously. Once was when my father dragged me up a whole ski T-bar lift by my arm.

Serious Chemical poisoning one summer at camp when quite young while eating sprayed berries and being sprayed by the pesticide sprayer. Very ill with stomach pain, lost hearing and vision for a few days.

Serious sun poisoning a few times.

Around age 17 I was falling asleep during tests and also had periferal visual issues that prompted my parents to take me for tests. EEG was abnormal but inconclusive. My Mom's sister had Grand Mal Epilepsy so they wanted to rule that out. Also around that time I became very ill with hepatitis symptoms so I was put in quaranteen. They figured out then that I had Gilbert's. I also had the first of three cases of mononucleosis. I remember having awful, heavy periods that lasted ten days long and were extremely painful. I passed out several times from them.

I continued to be very shy and had very few friends. I felt very humiliated in school all the time. My special Grandmother died from c-ancer and I was not given a chance to say goodbye.. very traumatic because she was the only truly nurturing person in my life. Our relationship was really special.

Metallic taste would come upon me quite often which would produce awful terror and forboding with a loud tone screaming in my ears at the same time. Sometimes it would wake me up and sometimes it would happen when awake. It has happened ever since but no real pattern. As I think of it now, it has the same quality of threatening experience as the burning pains I've mentioned does (start in my sternum and spread out down my arms and legs.

Hospitalized for acute tonsillitis at age 19. Again, fever over 106 degrees. I had hallucinations and was in a coma for several days. It happened when backpacking and camping in the Western Canadian Mountains for three months.
That trip was a life altering experience for me. It was the very first time I cut the strings from my intense family situation where I was the over-emotional scapegoat (the only one out of four girls that my dad could crush with just a brief look). I had graduated from High School and went to college for only 1 1/2 years before I dropped out. During that time I was introduced to recreational drugs by my wild and free room mate which enabled me to dance freely and lighten up around other kids. Although I was painfully shy and had little confidence, there has never, ever been a time when I was a follower. I always danced to a different drummer in every way, every stage of my life. In High School, while other kids were socializing, I would be out in the woods, by the lake, on ledge, surrounded by the comfort of moss. When my special Grandma died, and my parents did not let me know until after the fact so I could not say good bye to her and that she was the most important human in my life, I was devastated. It was only by being on the rock ledge, witnessing a most incredible sunset to the west, that I could feel her with and within me. Even now, all of these lifetimes and decades later, I feel her with me and sunsets bring her close. So after I dropped out of college I began self-destructing with drugs and working totally far outside of my safe element to earn money for the camping equipment and train fare for my Canadian trip out west. Finally I had enough and with my backpack and my dog I got on the Canadian National train to experience life and really learn who I was for the very first time. It was amazing! My girlfriend who went with me ended up splitting along the way with a guy so I was on my own with my pup. It felt great! I was free of constant judgements, embarrassment and expectations to be who I was not by my parents. I ended up meeting and falling in love with a truly wonderful guy at the hippy free camp in Jasper, Alberta who, with the help of others, carried the unconscious, feverish me miles away to the only hospital. Weeks later I signed myself out but needed to pay them my last remaining money to do so. It was extremely tough to leave my lover and the mountains... and me... but I got back on the train to head back east, planning on going home, earning as much money as I could, and to inform my parents that I would be going back to get Canadian working papers and to live in the Jasper area. That never happened.

David, please tell me if this is at all helpful. I'm telling too much because it's the only way I seem to be able to access the ongoing suppression of physical and emotional issues.

To be continued….
[message edited by tahbi on Sun, 13 Nov 2011 00:51:18 GMT]
[message edited by tahbi on Mon, 14 Nov 2011 15:12:02 GMT]

For an update on the present, I guess I would say it was very neutral like yesterday.... nothing better or worse at all.

Thanks, David

Hi David,

Although I slept pretty well last night, I feel worse in a more general way. It does not feel like a Homeopathic aggravation though, just the same old chronic stuff that I'd love to be free of.

No energy, depressed even though it is sunny and warmer, can't get myself to do anything I must do, intense pressure in the liver/gallbladder area that pushes up and out my lower ribs on the right side, poor memory as in trying to continue my health history but was a total blank, head a bit heavy, right shoulder sore with tight neck on that side towards back, fingers very stiff and click when gripping. My cough has been minimal compared to before Arnica but I do tend to cough more when fatigued.

I meant to tell you that I have been mostly okay with acid reflux and neurological issues since reducing the zantac dose in half during Joepathy.

The quick, random scattered pains like pins or darts that were hitting my head during the aggravation disappeared days ago.

The mentioned pressure under my right ribs has been very worrisome and driving me crazy for over two years. Two ultrasounds showed nothing abnormal. I think that it can get worse when I drink or eat but not positive.

Time for another dose of Cypr-e?
[message edited by tahbi on Sun, 13 Nov 2011 17:01:16 GMT]

Okay, David. I still have lots more info if/when my brain cells are willing to cooperate.

I picked up Sankaran's new book 'Homeopathy for Today's World'. There was a part that I read somewhere in the chapter about minerals that pointed to a few with a huge theme of creativity. It definitely struck a chord. Tonight I will try to find the part I read so I can be more clear in explaining why. I've been trying not to get so involved with the book that it would make me second guess your decisions but it is a fascinating read.

Should I wait another day before a second dose? Three sucussions, one drop, three cups, one tsp?

I don't think my brain will spit out more of my health history yet. It gets very emotional which adds greatly to the brain fog. I know it's important that you have it though. Hopefully it will happen sooner rather than later.

Thanks...

Yes, that's why I stopped reading. I did not read about the death of creativity though. It was something about creativity and the way I am in the world. My experience and the way I see things, which has been very different from most others throughout my life. And maybe it is a long needed coma rather than a death. All of this angst and pathology has been building and building throught my life and I would do everything not to face it and ran and hide in my creative hermitdom. I must admit that the last six years have been extremely challenging but I needed to learn. Maybe it's like someone who must have his leg amputated to save his life and it's the most threatening awful thing he can imagine. He goes through his own private torture after amputation but hopefully he begins to appreciate things that were invisible to him before, when he could fly away by his own two legs whenever the need to escape was building.

I sure would love a trip to Australia, unfortunately I don't travel well at all. If I go, I may never want to leave. lol My dear friend has a daughter in Sydney so I hear stories often.

coma - time out. necessary deep rest for body and mind. floating in between life and death. peace after life-threatening struggle (though that is certainly not the way I meant it in the post.

amputate - to lose a part of you that you are positive you must have for life. The most horrific pain and agony during and long time after. Losing who we think we are. Losing what we cannot fathom not having as part of ourself.

torture - amputation. worrying about those we love and fearing the worst while being helpless to change the situation. feeling humiliated by someone we admire most in the world. witnessing an innocent pet or child we love be physically or mentally in pain. The loss/death of a beloved pet or person. watching my Mom die and knowing that very soon I will never be able to touch her again.. WHEW! That one got me crying which I rarely do..

fly away - escape from danger or unrest, going to peace. ability to go where you feel you need to go by your own power or body without depending on others who do not come through.

escape - adrenalin empowering you to do what you must to survive. huge self-determined physical and/or mental effort to survive by fleeing for safety. going to someplace better physically and/or mentally. true creativity equals mental flight. gathering all you are and are feeling and going to a very quiet, hypnotic state that may be rythmic, like being in the womb with the constant reassurance of your mother's steady heartbeat. Or... the ever so rare feeling of just laying with someone in total peace, quiet and relaxation...just a slim memory for me.

A bit about creativity (before menopause)...

It was always the process that was important. It usually began with a spark from my early morning dream. Then, as I was doing whatever in my day, deep within my thought processes I would be an ongoing sense of shapes and balance. If I tried too hard or was too logical, I would lose the developing visual idea. Color has always been hard and frustrating. I'm too sensitive. I am way too affected emotionally by color. I could never decide on colors so working with natural wood had been a relief. It was alway the process, not the end result. It had to be totally private and free from logic. After the first mental spark of idea, I needed to shut out all logic and it came from deep within, out through my hands. It was almost always sensual and soft and flowing and earthy. It was a huge threat to my life for anyone to see it or to see me in the process of creating. To say I was a closet artist is a huge understatement. I could not handle any look or word, good or bad. It was the process that was the incredible flight for me, not the end result. Coming out with my art in 1999 did end up killing the one really safe place for me to escape to. It killed a huge part of me. But for my parents, it was the first time in my life that they were proud of me. My father was absolutely blown away by the thin woodturning I was able to create. And he was a fine woodworker and great in everything else he did... other than providing reassurance, love and understanding to his very sensitive, lost daughter.

It was more than just the woodworking. It was how I saw and experienced everything in the world. Flowing or rigid, colors that soothed or made me want to run, music that had a beautiful simple depth, or music that was the harshest of violent noise. And every bit in between was about feeling and balance. I could never put the experience or vision into words as it is so much more huge and expansive and complex than any way of describing in words. It's as if most people saw things in three dimensions and I see things in five dimensions. It's the same way with my emotional feelings. Nothing is just as simple as a word or fifteen words.

And I should add that the expressions on peoples faces are almost more than I can bare for the same reason. It is all so intense. I see and sense too much.

That's why it feels so much safer to work with you on the opposite side of the planet.
[message edited by tahbi on Mon, 14 Nov 2011 00:22:50 GMT]

[message deleted by tahbi on Mon, 14 Nov 2011 00:32:02 GMT]

Thank you, David. This really is a first for me... to really be heard and understood by a practioner especially.

I was just thinking about how strange it is to be so ultrasensitive to peoples facial expressions and at the same time having trouble recognizing faces of people I know well, even family. That is very odd!

Hi David,

I will keep adding to the previously posted history by editing that post, so it will not be bumped up each time. I figured it would be best to keep it together in order. Please let me know if it is not useful.

Thanks...

One more thing about creativity.

During my woodturning phase, which was the only time in my life I really 'came out of the closet' with my creativity, there were often discussions about the difference between art and craft. For me it was very, very clear.

Craft is something you do or create that can follow planning and logic. You are able to create the piece that will sell better or the specific piece that a customer wants. The crafter can be highly skilled or not, but is able to follow predetermined plans and steps that will ensure that the end result matches the planned idea.

Art is very different. It happens even if you want and feel the absolute need to be logical and create the specific ordered piece. So many times I would need to make a piece to fill an order and although I would try to 'stick with the plan', my hands would refuse and instead follow a feeling filled with sensorium deep inside me that was very far from logic.... In a timeless, floating, rythmic, meditative, peaceful place that was guided by something distant, natural, powerful and huge, so far beyond human control and logic... Much of that time if there was any logic involved, it would be more as an observer in awe, totally outside my limited human self. It was the flow and process that was the thrill... the final product, no matter how beautiful and powerful, was nothing compared to the ride getting there. It was always a let down to finish the piece. The spark, the deeply subconcious process and sensory experience was the amazing gift and thrill, not the final piece.... like making beautiful love with an adored partner I suppose....

So you still feel that I should take the second dose of cypra-e? I was about to take it.

Last night I was coughing again. I also had more of the awful deep burning pains, I think from eating something I may have been sensitive to.

This morning I had the second cup of coffee in two months and it certainly cheered me up and gave me energy. What a strong suppressive drug coffee is....it's wonderful! lol

I went for a good long hike and was reminded that I have not mentioned that my fingers usually swell when I take walks.

I can hold off on the dose again if you'd like me to....