Big Medicine

 Two remarkable things have happened in the past week.
Last Friday I had a breakthrough in my Energy work.  The Kundalini serpents of my client suddenly sprang to life and undulted their bodies against each other, using the space between them to roll balls of black nasty stuck energy up and out of her body.   The moment the energy began to move, she reacted, sobbing or gasping each time.  Also, this unlocked energy that she had somehow... zipped down and hidden.  It came out, gallons and gallons of the stuff.  When we were through her energetic structure was somewhat compromised, and she was highly fragile.  I sat down and began the work of rebuilding her.  One layer of energetic "chicken wire", one layer of blue, one of green, another chicken wire and then one of silver.  After a short break (we were 90 minutes into our session by now), she asked me to build it all again, just make sure it was solid.
I'd like to write another entry on what this did to ME... but it's a whole other story for another time.
The other remarkable thing happened today.  A client's Angel told me his name.  That's never happened before.  She had been calling him by another name, and when I spoke out loud the name he told me, there was much relief on both their parts.  He was just glad to have her stop calling him that other name, and she was glad to have a more solid connection between them.

Whew!  Okay, that's a good start on a long story.

Lately I have had a great many Angelic episodes.  It seems to me that these want recording, and so I have decided to use this blog to keep track of them.
It's a big field... and starting is difficult since I don't know where the beginning is.  So, how about I start with today.
Today, I gave a Reiki treatment.  I could say it was a perfectly typical treatment, except that nothing is ever the same from one to the next.  The Angels showed themselves at the very end, which is in fact typical.  Today's Angels were all white:  White wings and bodies and halos.  Everything white except their faces, which were not precisely dark, but more shadowed that the rest.  The things I saw today which were new:  the Angels were gathered together on either side of my client, arms under her and holding her up, lifting her.  One (or more?) had tears of Joy and I knew they were VERY excited to meet her at last.  One Angel had a crown, a tall white crown which resembled a stop-motion photo of a drop of milk hitting a platter.  I kept hearing the word Welcome.
It's rough start, but it's a start.  I'd like to also chronicle other, previous, experiences but I think that will come as it does.  At least the Flow has begun.  If I know Angels at all, it will soon be a torrent which I will be riding rather than directing.

Recently a client, a regular of the spa I work in, came to see me for a Reiki treatment.  It's always a bit... uncertain when this happens.  Energy work is such a subjective thing.  With massage, it's somatic, something undeniably felt by both parties.  Reiki, though, while I've not yet had a subject fail to feel something, it's always a question.  What if nothing happens?  Am I going to be able to make something happen?  Which of course if a ludicrous, moot idea since one does not make anything happen.  It just does.
To prepare, I spent a bit of time meditating, centering.  Then I went about my day repeating a mantra to myself: Om Nama Shivaya, I recognize the Divinity within me.  No matter what I was doing, it was narrated by that bit of Sanskrit.  I saw my client, gave her an amazing treatment (I can say that, because I was moved to tears just as she was).  Truly, it was a moving experience.  Further details I will leave out, however, except for this:  the woman had a gigantic Angelic host with her.  It was more than a host, it was practically an army!  They spilled from the room, overlapping one another at the shoulders.  So many were they that I had to look and look again to be sure of what I was seeing.  Never before have I noticed one person with such a presence.  She knew of her Angel friends, and as promised I will disclose no further details of her treatment.
Since then, I cannot help but check for Angels with every client.  The results are rather astounding!  One would think that every person, if indeed Angels exist, has at least one Angel hanging out with them, watching over... yadda yadda.  This is not the case.  While almost everyone I've encountered has some Angels, these Angels are not "assigned" strictly to the one person, but are watching any number of people simultaneously.  Locations are irrelevant, as it seems that the Angels can tune into the lives of their people, no matter where they are or what they're doing.  BUT, some people are actually so disconnected that they are living, existing, with no direct Angelic attention at all, instead just falling under some kind of general jurisdiction that would allow them to contact Angels if only the person would believe... but they don't.
Okay, I'm assuming faith on the part of my readers here, a step away from my typical stance, but my recent experience has been so profound that I had to just... broadcast it somehow.
Angels even have different appearances.  All, it seems, have bright white wings, or perhaps so incredibly multicolored as to seem white.  Some are clearly human-esque or choose to be seen that way.  Some, though, are like nothing else I've ever seen or imagined.  One person had five Angels, two on his left and three on his right, and they were black.  I do not mean Black as in ethnicity, and I do not mean black as in the so-called Black Arts.  These Angels were as black and glittering as the night sky.  Only their wings shone white and their eyes were stars.  This is the only way I can describe them, as some sort of cosmic body.  They were silent, and yet full of yearning for contact with the person whose vigil they kept.  
I have to stop.  Angels are chatty and now that the door is open they have much to say.... if I continue I will be up all night.
If there is one lesson I have learned through this, or am learning, it is that Divinity IS.  If it is allowed to be, it will.  There is never any reason to worry that a miracle will not happen, because if it is called, it will come.  Will it be in the form or timeframe that you expect?  Almost certainly not.  Does the unpredictability make the experience any less thrilling?  Definitely not.  Is all this Angel-watching crazy?  Maybe.  
Am I going to keep at it?  YES.
Thank you for reading.
 

 

May I start by stating that I went into the birthing room expecting to be there for six hours.  This will be a breeze, I thought!  As much as any birth can ever be a breeze, that is.  I'm well informed, I know what I want, and I've been visualizing an easy birth for months! 

God is laughing at me.

First of all, my water broke at 1:30 am on August 5, which is what began my labor.  This was three weeks early, but I knew that at 36 weeks my baby would be able to survive outside my womb without life support.  I was a little unprepared... the baby shower hadn't even happened yet and I didn't have a car seat to take the baby home in... and we had only twelve hours earlier bought a book full of baby names... But it was okay.  I was cool, calm, ready to deliver a perfectly healthy baby after a picnic of a labor.

Around 4:30 am we arrived at the hospital.  My contractions were already only about two minutes apart.  Upon examination I was found to be 80 percent effaced (cervix thinned and ready to dilate) and two cm dilated.  All according to plan, I thought.  So I got into the bed and took a nap.  When I awoke, my contractions had all but stopped.  No problem, with a little stimulation (and acupuncture, thanks Angie!!) we can get that going again!  And we did.  Again and again.  The doctors were worried that since my water was broken, there was a risk of infection, and so they suggested hooking me up with a catheter pipeline through which they would pump penicilin every few hours.  You can imagine my reaction to that. I was determined to go through this with no interventions, and I did NOT want my baby to be receiving antibiotics so early in his little life. 

Throughout my experience at the hospital, I was continually exposed to stress.  Not my stress, but the hospital staff's.  It became my stress because they wouldn't just relax.  The penicilin was just the start.  Next it was the monitors.  I was strapped to these elastic belts with sensors that picked up the baby's heartbeat and my contractions.  But neither of those worked too well... the heart sensor kept slipping down on my belly and picking up my hearbeat instead of the baby's.  As a result, every time there was a new nurse there was a big uproar about it... they were worried that the baby's heartbeat was taking random dives.  Not once did they check me out with a stethescope!  Instead, they pushed the damn things into my belly every time I had a contraction.  That hurt.

But the point of this is not to complain about the hospital!  I just needed to illustrate the UNDUE stress I endured due to being at a hospital.

For twenty-fours I labored, having crazy, strong, painful contractions.  At that point, I consented to the penicilin (though we learned later that we had been misled concerning the reasons for that drug).  At about thirty hours I was checked again, sure that I was in active labor... how could I be having contractions every minute or two, painful ones(!), and not be at least at a five?  But I was still at a two.  At thirty-six hours I consented to taking Pitocin to (hopefully) cause some dilation.  Then I started crying.  I broke down and just bawled because, as painful as all this was, it was going to get WORSE??  I did feel that I had failed in my mission to be completely natural in my birthgiving, but the real issue by then was just plain old fear of pain. But I took it, and that meant being constantly hooked to an IV.  That sucked a whole lot.  By now I was so exhausted that I was beginning to hallucinate.  I was seeing all kinds of things that weren't actually there.  I remember seeing a little snowman running around Allison's eyes.  Flowers and bugs were also present, mainly circling the eyes of my friends who were there to support me.  Also, I began dreaming with my eyes open. I remember saying to Sylas at one point, "I love you, but I wish I didn't have to drive!"

At forty-four hours I had still not dilated further, and when the midwife suggested pain medication, I rolled my eyes back in my head but agreed.  The IV narcotic acted quickly... The edge came right off, but Sylas tells me he was worried when one of my eyes would only half-open, and the other wouldn't focus at all.  I do remember him in a mild panic, telling me to LOOK at him, damnit! 

At forty-six hours I asked for more medication, since what I had was wearing off and the pain and panic were coming back.  The midwife looked at me for a while, then sat down for a talk.  She couldn't give me any more of that drug safely.  She told me that I was at a crossroads.  I could continue down the road as I was, refusing an epidural, and maybe coming out with a vaginal birth... but that I had been in so much pain for so long that it was likely that my muscles just would not be able to relax, and in that case I would end up with a Caesarian.  Or I could have an epidural and probably be done with the whole affair in a few hours.

God is laughing at me.

Alright, fine then. Give me the goddamn needle in my back.  When it came down to all that, the thing I truly wanted to avoid was surgery. So, alright.  And, you know, the epidural ended up being not nearly so invasive as I thought it would be.  It also did not NUMB anything except for my right foot.  I still felt every contraction and they were every one still very painful.  This despite three extra doses of painkiller to the epidural and an extra dose of epidural at the end.  But it DID relax my muscles, hallelujah, and two hours later I was able to start pushing. 

A word about transition, by the way:  YOW!!!

Since I was not numb, I had no problem pushing with all my might (I had worried that I wouldn't know how or where to push with an epidural), and thus it took only one hour to push the baby out.  I didn't even tear!  When I heard Sylas say, "Guess what, Angelee!  It's a boy!" and they put him in my arms, nothing else could possibly matter.  I didn't care what it had taken to bring my son into the world.  He had arrived (after 49 hours!) and I couldn't have been happier.

The best and most wonderful thing about this birth (aside from my gorgeous son!) is the support and love I experienced.  Sylas was there with me for almost the entire time, taking breaks when he needed to eat or just get away for a few.  Three of my best girlfriends were also there for the long haul... That's Dana, Allison and Tracey.  Without their help... Who knows how it would have gone. Chris G was there for a while, and so was Angie.  Sylas's daughter, Ellah, started the whole adventure with us, and was the first to see and hold the baby.  Most of Sy's family, for that matter, was there at one time or another.  While I was in labor, people I loved were being brought together and connecting, when they might never have met otherwise.  It was magic! I'm honored to be part of it... And everyone who was there has expressed that same sentiment.

Thank you to everyone who stopped by, everyone who prayed for our health and safety, and especially to everyone who stayed and held my hand (or pushed on my back, that felt great!!) when I was crying, sceaming, or just breathing through it.

Additional thanks are due to several nurses and midwives... I complain about the hospital but those ladies truly made it happen.

I love you!  I'm happier than I've ever been!  We coudn't have done it so well without you.

Welcome, Micah.  I hope I can be all the Mom you deserve.  I hope I can teach you all you need and far more.  I hope I can show you the true meaning of Love.  And I know you will thrive.

 

PS Tracey, I'm sorry, but for going through that TWICE I still say you're fuckin' crazy (finger still pointing aimlessly).

 It has been over a week since I wrote here.  Work has been slow, but I have still had clients...
Here are some things I've been thinking of writing...

Reflexology for Sinus protocol
Headache protocol
Hot Stones protocol

...It seems everything I have in my head is Method!  Hmm.  That is what I've been trying to bring forward!
People, let me know if any of these topics interest you.  I'd like to write for an audience.

Client today presents with a "lump in my throat," sudden weight gain and fatigue.  Professionals, what is your first thought?  She was kind enough to let me touch her neck, palpate the "lump," which she said was not painful, only uncomfortable because she could feel it when she swallowed.  It was indeed swollen.  I did not voice my suspicions until the end of the session, when I was checking her feet.  The thyroid reflex was inflamed and tender to my touch.  Sitting there, knowing that something was happening in her thyroid, I was confronted once more with the fact that I have no medical authority.  It is literally outside my scope of practice to say to her, "Your thyroid is swollen.  Your symptoms are concurrent with thyroid disorder and you should go to your doctor right away."  Which is, of course, precisely what I wanted to say to her.  Instead, I mentioned that the tender point in her toe is the neck reflex, more specifically the thyroid reflex.  From there she put it all together by herself, for which I am exceedingly grateful.  It seems that people are far more interested in pursuing help when they reach a conclusion on their owns, rather than being told by some professional stranger.  
This is a tactic that I find myself employing liberally.  It is, perhaps, a method of manipulation, but it keeps me within the law and it points the way for my clients to seek more thorough answers to more specific questions asked of their doctors.  Always it is necessary for me to remind them that I am not-a-doctor and therefore cannot diagnose conditions or prescribe remedies.  I can, however, share wisdom imparted to me by my own doctor, or by my teachers, or even by recent studies or books that I have read, as long as I state my source.  It is a fine line, and knowing just how to walk it takes creativity and above all, caution.
 

I have a split lip.  It's quite nasty, actually, and is a result of my own foolishness.  I tell every client, rather bossily, to "drink half your body weight in ounces of water daily."  Sometimes I even write it down prescription-style and hand it to him or her so s/he won't forget.   And yet, here I am, grossly dehydrated, lips parched and chapped to the point of obvious (...to me) infection.  It is not contagious, only embarrassing, and so I must work with this ugly protrusion on my face.
Ironically, my one and only client of the day states to me that she has "congestion" in her lungs, and after a bit of questioning discloses that she is indeed coughing, expelling "green stuff" when she does.  This, in case my Reader is unaware, is a clear sign of respiratory infection.  I am now in the unique position of needing to look her in the eye, wearing this grotesque mask of germiness, and say, "I am not sure we can treat you today.  Sit still, drink your tea, relax... I need to consult with the Higher Authorities on this matter."  Thank you for your honesty, now get out (maybe).
To be clear, the service in question was a Hot Stone Massage, which is in a "fuzzy area" of the law when it comes to contraindications.  The deep heat on the body may indeed be highly therapeutic: providing increased blood flow, which carries fresh oxygen and nutrients to the area while carrying away toxins; and raising the body's core temperature, which can help to fight infection.  Arguably, the relaxation experienced during this treatment and subsequent loss of stress will allow healing as well.  Still, the possibility of her transmitting something I don't want to catch (or pass to other clients) exists, and that creates our dilemma.
I try to smile reassuringly, but the action makes me wince in pain, and so I head upstairs, feeling a hypocrite as I seldom have before.  We have not discussed my lip.  In fact, nobody mentioned it to me at all that day, and so as far as I know no one noticed it.  In my mind's eye, though,  it is gigantic, staring at everyone I meet with a little face of its own, very cartoonish.  My imagination paints all kinds of unsavory pictures of what this client will say to her friends about being chased out of the spa by some monster with giant oozing boils all over its face, and other scenarios more enjoyable still.   I began to wonder whether I ought not simply run out and save myself the humiliation of this quackery.
As it turns out, the Final Word on the matter was rather light: the Higher Authority gave it careful thought and pronounced it safe, cautioning me to use plenty of Cedar Oil, which is antibacterial, and to utilize my own judgement concerning how close in contact to be with the client.  
The client, for her part, coughed not once during our session.   We had a delightful visit, after the initial awkwardness had worn off.  When we were through and I made my official recommendations, what do you think I told her?  Among other things, drink water!  Half your body weight in ounces.  Was that expression on my face an admonishment, or a wry little smile (at least, what would have been a little smile had I been capable of such a feat)?  The world may never know... and I am not telling.


PS This writing feels pretty choppy to me, and I plan to expand this entry, but I wanted to put the subject out there for discussion.  Thoughts and suggestions (on the writing as well as the topic)?

"As a professional,"  I said to my client today, "I must advise you to stop wearing spike heels to work [where you stand on your feet all day]."  She looked at me, and I knew that despite the tightest foot arches I have seen in months and nightly foot and leg cramps, this woman was not about to give up her fashion fetish.   Answering her silent refusal, I continued, "But I know you are not going to stop wearing spike heels, and so let's go on to Plan B."
In my healthcare, the first principle (Plan A) is to advise the client of the healthiest choice, the one which will facilitate longevity and (in my field) pain-free living.  The second principle (Plan B), which comes into play when the client is unable or (most commonly) unwilling to commit to the first option, is to counteract the harmful lifestyle habits s/he is presenting with.
It is easy to lay down a judgement against, say, unhealthy footwear.   I can go on until I am blue in the face about the fact that shoes with pointed toes compromise the natural shape of the foot, crowding toes together in a fashion never intended by evolution.  That crowding the toes not only cuts off circulation but changes the weight distribution of the entire body, placing undue strain on the arches and ankles, thereby disbalancing the hips and creating additional pain in the lower back.. et cetera, et cetera.  Not to mention the Reflexologist standpoint that the toes represent the head, neck and shoulders, and to congest the toes is to transmit to the upper body the message that it too needs to hunch in on itself and squeeze as tightly together as it possibly can.  And the Chi, by god!  ...But that, my friends, is a whole article to itself, and I am digressing.
Healthcare must be as free of personal scruples as the provider can manage without sacrificing ethics.  In this example, the client is aware of her unhealthy habits and of her suffering, and although she wishes to discontinue the suffering portion, she will put up with it to the point of becoming permanently crippled rather than detatch from her vanity.  What is the solution here?  She has come to me for help.  Do I slap her upside the head and tell her to get out of my sight,  to stay away until she grows some sense?  If I did, if any of us did, it would be the casting of the first stone.  And, of course, her business would likely be taken elsewhere.
The first principle still applies, and I will continue to educate her and advise her of the healthiest choice, but in leiu of an epiphany on her part there still needs to be maintainance to her body to prevent it from falling to pieces before she can change her ways.  Plan B, then, must target the areas of her body which are pained first, to gain relief and perspective.  Meaning, she feels pain in her feet and legs on a daily basis, but her real trouble lies in her hips, which have for years taken the impact of having to compensate for the support her feet should be providing but cannot.  So, we relieve the pain in her feet first, working our way into deeper and more profound issues as we go along.  Eventually it will be the hips that we target with every session, always touching on the legs and feet, always striving to hold open those channels, but focusing where the focus is due.  With luck and willingness from both parties there will be progress, and she will hurt less.
Is this the summit of our work?  To go on laboring indefinitely just to maintain her unhealthy habits?  I hope not.  Ideally she will realize that if she can come this far and yet still have pain, then there must be further to go, and she will kick off those spike heels once and for all.  In the end, though, that decision can be made only by her.  Fret not, faithful readers!  Remember that every relationship goes two ways, and that the choice to continue to serve her is also yours to make.  This is one of the few places your own scruples are appropriate to enforce, and you'd be well served to keep them intact for just such an opportunity.

Yes.  I have a plan.
I am a healthcare professional.  I see clients and assist them in their quests to become happier and healthier people.  Many of these clients have told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should teach or write and share my knowledge and insight on a larger scale.
So.
In my field, the work is often physical.  We strive to place as little strain on our bodies as we can, but eventually the toll is taken.  The way to prolong the life of one's career, as I see it, presents itself in several forms:  
A) Owning a business, such as a spa or wellness center, and focusing on the business end of matters;
B) Teaching, whether at a college (one's own alma mater is of course preferred, provided that one attended a worthwhile institution), or in seminars; or
C) Patenting a technique, and then selling the rights to use said technique to those who have been certified with the patent holder.
You may have noticed that I did not include Writing in this list.  One can make an excellent living writing and publishing articles, books, textbooks and even encyclopediae on the subject of health and wellness, and this I intend to do.  As I see it, however, writing is a form of teaching, and a gateway to patenting.
Already, I suspect, you can see where my ambitions lie, and perhaps why I have started this journal.  
I intend to publish.  I intend to patent.  I intend to impart to many the particular insight that is mine.
First, though, I need to bleed that insight until the core of it shows.  For it is no use simply throwing together a knot of ideas and calling them Method.  In order to see just what it is that I have to share, I need to lay it out for myself and all the world to inspect, and hope that some of it comes back to me filtered through the eyes (and hands?  and words?) of others.
That is where you come in, fair reader.  The things you encounter here, new and familiar, I encourage you to try out, disccuss with others, and bring back to me in its evolved form that can come only from its contact with you.
Please.  Read, comment, and be free with your constructive criticisms.  After all, great medicine is in the making, and great medicine requires many healers to produce.
Thank you, friends.
With Love, 
@ngelee

My first entry.  
There.  I wrote it.