How and When to Be Your Own Doctor - Moser and Solomon (simple ebook reader .txt) 📗

One of the hardest things about being a healer is that one accumulates an ever-enlarging series of dirty, failed cases like this one. It is depressing and makes a person want to quit doctoring. Whenever I get involved with a case I really want them to get better. My life is put entirely out of joint for several months dealing with a residential faster. My schedule is disrupted; my family life suffers; my personal health suffers. No amount of mere money could pay for this. And then some of these people go and waste all my help to accomplish some discreditable secret agenda that they have never really admitted to themselves or others.

Constant Complaints

Alice was a middle-aged woman who couldn’t understand why she had always felt tired, even when she was young. Her life had been this way ever since she could remember. Most puzzling to her was why her life was so Job-like. She did everything the proper way. Doing things correctly was important to her, and fitted her Puritan background. Alice supported all the right causes, did good works, was active in a Unitarian church and bought all her food at the healthfood store—and made sure it was organically grown.

But in spite of Alice’s righteous living, her existence was a treadmill of constant, minor complaints. She was constantly exhausted, so much so she had difficulty getting up in the morning and feared she might have chronic fatigue syndrome (whatever that is). Alice suffered bouts of depression over thoughts like these, and had many acute illnesses like colds that hung on interminably and would not go away. She had a constant post-nasal drip. Though she enjoyed life, her body was a millstone around her neck.

I’ve had a lot of clients exactly like Alice. Sometimes they complain of headaches; sometimes constant yeast or bladder infections. Whatever the complaints, the symptoms are rarely severe enough to classify themselves as someone who is seriously ill, but their symptoms rarely go away and they almost never feel good.

Medical doctors rarely find anything wrong with them, though they will frequently prescribe an antibiotic to treat a somewhat constant infection, or an antihistamine for sinus symptoms. Getting a new prescription drug makes the complaint go away for a short time until their resistance is lowered again and the very same complaint returns. These people frequently depend on over the counter pills and are routinely prescribed sleeping remedies and antidepressants.

If instead of this route they will but take my medicine they are usually easy to fix and afterwards are amazed that it was all that simple and that so much of their life has been less than it could have been.

Alice had been through the medical doctor route. She had become quite familiar with antibiotics for her colds and flu, and also took synthetic thyroid hormone—the doctor had diagnosed her fatigue as being caused by an underactive thyroid, which was partly correct—but the thyroid medication didn’t give her much more energy. Alice had been supporting this medical doctor in grand style for over thirty years but never obtained the relief she sought.

I put Alice through my usual two hour first-time-visit thorough analysis. For two weeks before coming to see me she had saved tiny samples of everything she ate, wrapped them in plastic film, carefully labeled, and put them in the freezer. Along with these food samples and a typed list of all these foods, she brought a big box full of her condiments, herb teas, vitamins, spices, prescription medications, over the counter drugs, oils, grains, breads, crackers and small samples of her usual fresh vegetables and fruits. Even her water. Her entire kitchen! By biokinesiology we proceeded to test all of her foods for allergic reactions. I also tested the integrity of her organs and glands and in the process, got a detailed medical history and list of her complaints.

Alice had exhausted adrenals, and they probably had been that way for thirty years. Her pancreas was now too weak to digest the legumes that made up a large part of her vegetarian diet. She was allergic to wheat, soy, and dairy products and had especially been eating dairy in the mistaken notion that it was necessary to keep up her protein intake. Really very typical. So many health food store shoppers these days mistakenly believe that, because they are vegetarian and do not eat meat, they especially need to boost their protein intake with dairy and soy. Unfortunately, so many North Americans are highly allergic to dairy and unfortunately, soy products are as hard or harder to digest than cooked meats.

Alice was especially shocked to discover that she was allergic to such foods as cabbage family vegetables, alfalfa sprouts and citrus.

Most people don’t think that anyone could be allergic to something as healthy as alfalfa sprouts. The doctor was right about one thing; her thyroid was underperforming. He had not noticed that her heart was weak.

Medical doctors rarely discover an organ weakness until that organ actually begins to catastrophically fail. A busy honest doctor will usually tell the complaining patient there is nothing wrong with them: go home, take two aspirin, accept the fact that your body is not perfect and don’t worry about it. A hungry doctor will be delighted to perform countless lab tests, seeking any possible reason for the complaint. This can go on as long as the patient has money or as long as the insurance company will pay. They rarely find anything “wrong” and the patient is far better off if the doctor doesn’t discover something “serious” to treat because their treatment may carry with it consequences far more severe than the complaint. For example, I have seen dozens of people whose lives were virtually ruined after surgical treatment for chronic back pain.

Biokinesiology is actually a far more sensitive system of analysis than lab tests. It picks up weaknesses at a very early stage so total organ failure can be prevented. Rarely will any of the organ weaknesses I discover be confirmed by a medical doctor. First I put Alice on a six week cleanse. She did one week on fresh, raw food; one week on dilute carrot juice with some green leafy vegetables juice too; one week on water fasting; and then she repeated the series. After six weeks of detoxification, I gave Alice a life extension megavitamin formula, discovered she could not handle the acid form of vitamin C (that she had already been taking) and had her start on protomorphogens to rebuild her weakened endocrine system, her exhausted adrenals and weak pancreas. She also began taking pancreatic enzymes when she ate vegetable protein. She was put on a maintenance diet that eliminated foods she was allergic to; the diet primarily consisted of whole grains, nuts, cooked and raw vegetables, and raw fruits. On her maintenance diet Alice had a profound resurgence of energy and rediscovered a sense of well-being she had not known for decades. She began to feel like she had when she was a child. Her constant sinus drip was gone. She was able to stop taking synthetic thyroid hormones and instead, supported her endocrine system with protomorphogens.

A Rampaging Infection

At the age of 40, John, an old bohemian client of mine, came into a moderate inheritance and went “native” in the Fiji Islands in the South Pacific. He spent about four months hanging out with the locals. Life there was so much fun that John completely forgot that his body was actually rather delicate, that many of his organs were weak, and that to feel good, he had to live a fairly simon-pure life.

But the jovial, accepting, devil-may-care Fijians enjoyed a constant party, even more so because John’s money allowed the Fijians to manifest powerful, tropical, home-grown strains of recreational herbs to smoke in abundance, beer and rum and worse, the Fijians (and John) constantly used a very toxic though only mildly-euphoric narcotic called kava, something Europeans usually have no genetic resistance to. The Fijians (and John) also ate a lot of freshly-caught fish fried in grease, well-salted, and huge, brain-numbing bowls of greasy starches, foods that they call i’coi, or “real food” as opposed to things like fruit and vegetables that aren’t real food because they don’t knock you to the floor for hours trying to digest them in a somnambulant doze.

John miraculously kept up with this party for a few months and then, while scuba diving, got some small coral scratches on his leg. These got infected. The infections got worse. Soon he had several huge, suppurating, ulcerous sores on his legs and worse, the infections became systemic and began spreading rapidly. He was running a fever and was in considerable pain. So John booked an emergency ticket home and fled to find Doctor Isabelle. When I met his plane he was rolled out in a wheelchair, unable to walk because of pain and swelling in his legs.

John was violently opposed to ordinary medical treatment; he especially would not have taken antibiotics even if he had died without them because previous courses of antibiotics had been the precipitant of life-threatening conditions that first brought John to my care. John used his last strength to get to me because he knew that had a hospital gotten its clutches on him the medical doctors would have done exactly as they pleased.

I gave John a colonic, a gentle, mental spanking, and put him to bed without any supper. He started water fasting and did colonics every day. He began gobbling vitamin C (as calcium ascorbate) a few grams every hour. I put huge poultices on his sores made of clay and chopped lawn grass (we needed a week or so before a tray of wheat grass would be ready). John’s sores were amazing. Every day a new one seemed to appear on a different part of the body. The old ones kept getting bigger and deeper. The largest original ones were about three inches in diameter, smelled horribly and had almost eaten the flesh down to the bone. His pain was severe; there was no position John could assume that didn’t irritate one sore or another, and it was a good thing my house was remote because John frequently relieved his pain by screaming. John was never delirious, but he was always original. He did not have to scream, but enjoyed its relief and howled quite dramatically. I wore earplugs.

After about two weeks of water fasting, John counted up the total of his sores. There were forty three. Seven or eight of them were enormous, two or three inches in diameter and well into the flesh, but the last ones to appear were shallow, small and stayed small.

After that point no more new ones showed up and the body began to make visible headway against the infection. Very slowly and then more and more rapidly, the sores began to close up and heal from the edges. John’s fever began to drop. And he had less pain. I should mention that John brought an extremely virulent and aggressive pathogenic organism into our house to which we Americans had no resistance. Both my husband and I were attacked where the skin had been broken. However, unlike John, in our cases, our healthy bodies immediately walled-off the organism and the small, reddened pustules, though painful, did not grow and within a week, had been conquered by our immune systems. And after that we had an immunity.

After about three weeks of his fasting we were thoroughly tired of hearing John’s cathartic howls, tired of nursing a sick person. We needed a break. John at this point could walk a bit and was feeling a lot better. John had previously water fasted for 30 days and knew the drill very well. So we stocked up