Sunday, September 6, 2015

9.6.15 And we both did a quiet happy dance


    

Today we went to see my brother Sam, for him to work on my beloved, and then trade with me. As he worked, I described to him how with the chemo, the Avastin (which takes apart tumors, but also much other tissue in the body, a real problem) at first was detectable on palpation to both of us.

 But I upped some naturopathic tools ( increased the Maitake, the Papaya Liquid, and a few other things), kept on with acupressure txs and nightly castor oil packs to draw out toxins and waste and soften tumor structures and increase the integrity of immune function, as my brother continued his remarkable ensuring of deeply storing any available energy, for the body's discretion, and many other complex things; and before I knew it, my husband's  body had adapted to the powerful chemo agent. Was rebuilding healthy tissue, while utilizing the advantages of it.
     So today I told my brother, and he agreed, checking organs and systems and tissues, 

and we both did a quiet happy dance, 

while my husband asked laughingly what the hell was going on. 

Then we pretend-buffed our nails.Huff huff.

     Then we preened with delight. 

Then we just sat there while he worked, so happy and fascinated. 

He talked about how, when the body HAS what it needs in terms of supports, it can meet up with an agent, such as this chemo, and the key here is, the body can figure out how to adapt. To come up with good workable solutions.

     Which is of course why we aspire to do the best we can, right? To get enough sleep and cool ourselves out from being too wound up and learn to express our worries and sadness and bitterness so it can flow on by instead of harming us physically and emotionally. We see how well we can eat, how many toxins we can manage to avoid, and then we accept whatever else we can't change.

And some conditions involve patterns that are so set, or injury that has already been incurred, and then we need to learn to adapt to that, so we can relish what our lives hold in the midst of that stuff.


     Just blows me away with...I guess...love. Of our lives. Of the remarkable capacity of our bodies. Of poor bodies very challenged with cells that have struggled too much for too long and fallen asunder, and then have the right support and compassion to be able to possibly increase in health and decrease in pathological activity. 

Just fills you with love, doesn't it? I want this support for every one.

No comments:

Post a Comment