My bladder and me... For my friend
I have hesitated sharing this story for a couple of reasons. Number one, it is graphic. You are forewarned. And number two, one who hears it might think I am a nut case. Well, I will risk it for the sake of my friend, who is recovering from bladder cancer surgery, hoping it will give him a familiar laugh or two.
I think the place to start is my short career as a heavy beer drinker that started when I was sixteen.(sorry Mom) One instance in particular gave rise to the thought that I must have a cast iron bladder. I recall it was at my dad's house where I lived during my senior year at Evergreen and the first few years of college. Being my fathers son, I was always looking for a bargain and beer was no exception. So when the generic "BEER" beer hit the shelves I remember at least a couple of parties that were stocked with that watery, practically tasteless swill. During one of them I remember drinking a six pack, that is seventy two ounces, before even thinking about going to the bathroom. And it wasn't like I was drunk. That stuff literally was a can of water sprinkled with hops. But it did occur to me at the time that that was a lot of beer. While I don't want to call it pride, there was something in me that considered this an accomplishment.
Well, when I turned twenty one I became a Christian. Started going to church and the party, beer, drunkenness every week end went by the way side. But to my surprise about two years later I developed a "male" infection. The doctor identified it as an NGU. Non gonorrheal urethritis which was a comfort to my young wife. So the doctor prescribed a pill and two weeks later.... it had not gone away. Hmmm. So back to the doctor who prescribed a "better" pill and a kidney function test. The test involved drinking a dye solution during an x-ray that followed the dye through the body all the way until I eliminated it. Test came through fine. Kidneys, bladder all in good working order, although I heard the doctor say my liver was "elongated".
About two years later the same scenario hit. I was outside all day staining a fence and recall not stopping even for a drink of water... Next day went on a trip to see grandparents and had to ask them if I could lay down when I got there. Same thing, got the pills, drank water, got better.
In April 1996 I took a job that involved managing a territory in the Seattle area so I started making arrangements to move. The job also gave me an opportunity to visit the Lincoln-Wearever (pots and pan folks) plant in Indiana. As part of that trip I thought I would try to see my uncle. He is a sage philosopher and guru of sorts to me. I made the trip and on the way home took a right turn and stayed in Detroit for a couple of days. We chatted for a few hours at his home in Warren, MI. The conversation was about the "possibilities" the mind gives us, abundance, healing. It was a trip that raised more questions than answers, but I had a few more tools in the mental arsenal than I did before.
Now we are ready for the move from Vancouver to Gig Harbor Washington in a company truck. Loaded by me. On a hot day. So dehydrated and tired, right before the last load I lay on the grass trying to get some energy. But all indications are that my "bug" was back. So after a very long painful drive to Gig Harbor with the last load, I got the bed set up and laid down right away. This was a week-end move so the doctor visit was at least another day away.
And as I lay there, this being the third time this "bug" got me, I thought to myself this is ridiculous. I am an otherwise healthy thirty six year old and this doesn't make any sense. So as I drifted off to sleep, I meditated. I meditated on the word "Healing". I quickly entered a very deep sleep and woke up about twenty minutes later running for the bathroom. What left me at that point was the biggest bloodiest purge I had ever seen. With velocity to match. And you might notice I had not made it to the doctor during this round. But my sense was that this was the finale. I felt "healed". So the next week I got in to see the doctor and no infection or malfunction was found. Told you it was strange. Now, as a Christian guy, you might notice that I did not invoke a necessarily religious benediction, just a word. Didn't give money to Creflo Dollar, Robert Tilton or Jim Bakker. I invoked a word that my mind understood and to which my body responded. Miraculous, maybe. But it occurred to me that the body is designed to heal. From the smallest cut to the most complex brain injury, the human body is designed to try to recover. And certainly in my world God is the designer. God is the author of the human body. So in some ways it makes perfect sense that a word that my mind understands, made more perfect by repetition, would induce the very thing the mind understood. Computers respond to it everyday. It's called programming.
I also hesitate telling this story because others have many more serious health issues that are not cured despite every religious, secular, medical and or mechanical intervention known to man. I remember a little boy at my sons' school dying of a brain tumor at seven years old. Those are the tragedies I cannot comprehend. Hundreds prayed. Hundreds cried for this little guy to no avail. Except that those around us became that much more precious.
This experience and others have led me to look for an explanation for what happened. One of the answers I have found is called Reiki. From the website:
Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy.
I have taken two Reiki classes and have found whatever that energy is to be real. If it a placebo effect it is a very useful one. Sounds way too much like Star Wars, for me but I cannot deny the effect of the mind, body and "spirit", if you will, connection.
And so to my friend who is facing a very difficult and painful situation with bladder cancer, surgery and a lengthy recovery, many prayers and good thoughts going your way. And thank you for giving me the courage to share this story. And for those of you who know me well you know that I have taken up beer drinking again albeit after a 30 year hiatus. I am better at it now; much more moderate.
Of course it has not concluded yet. At this point I take no prescriptions, don't intend to. The doc wants me to take something for slightly elevated cholesterol, but I am not buying it. I will cut down on the carbs, drink lighter (NOT LITE) beer and see how it goes. I am disappointed that he did not prescribe diet and exercise modifications, but that isn't how we operate in the US. There is a lot of snake oil out there, but diet and exercise are the real thing. Ok and losing the extra 30 pounds I am carrying around. But still, this old dude just turned 56 and who knows what other challenges I might face as I get further over the hill.
I think the place to start is my short career as a heavy beer drinker that started when I was sixteen.(sorry Mom) One instance in particular gave rise to the thought that I must have a cast iron bladder. I recall it was at my dad's house where I lived during my senior year at Evergreen and the first few years of college. Being my fathers son, I was always looking for a bargain and beer was no exception. So when the generic "BEER" beer hit the shelves I remember at least a couple of parties that were stocked with that watery, practically tasteless swill. During one of them I remember drinking a six pack, that is seventy two ounces, before even thinking about going to the bathroom. And it wasn't like I was drunk. That stuff literally was a can of water sprinkled with hops. But it did occur to me at the time that that was a lot of beer. While I don't want to call it pride, there was something in me that considered this an accomplishment.
Well, when I turned twenty one I became a Christian. Started going to church and the party, beer, drunkenness every week end went by the way side. But to my surprise about two years later I developed a "male" infection. The doctor identified it as an NGU. Non gonorrheal urethritis which was a comfort to my young wife. So the doctor prescribed a pill and two weeks later.... it had not gone away. Hmmm. So back to the doctor who prescribed a "better" pill and a kidney function test. The test involved drinking a dye solution during an x-ray that followed the dye through the body all the way until I eliminated it. Test came through fine. Kidneys, bladder all in good working order, although I heard the doctor say my liver was "elongated".
About two years later the same scenario hit. I was outside all day staining a fence and recall not stopping even for a drink of water... Next day went on a trip to see grandparents and had to ask them if I could lay down when I got there. Same thing, got the pills, drank water, got better.
In April 1996 I took a job that involved managing a territory in the Seattle area so I started making arrangements to move. The job also gave me an opportunity to visit the Lincoln-Wearever (pots and pan folks) plant in Indiana. As part of that trip I thought I would try to see my uncle. He is a sage philosopher and guru of sorts to me. I made the trip and on the way home took a right turn and stayed in Detroit for a couple of days. We chatted for a few hours at his home in Warren, MI. The conversation was about the "possibilities" the mind gives us, abundance, healing. It was a trip that raised more questions than answers, but I had a few more tools in the mental arsenal than I did before.
Now we are ready for the move from Vancouver to Gig Harbor Washington in a company truck. Loaded by me. On a hot day. So dehydrated and tired, right before the last load I lay on the grass trying to get some energy. But all indications are that my "bug" was back. So after a very long painful drive to Gig Harbor with the last load, I got the bed set up and laid down right away. This was a week-end move so the doctor visit was at least another day away.
And as I lay there, this being the third time this "bug" got me, I thought to myself this is ridiculous. I am an otherwise healthy thirty six year old and this doesn't make any sense. So as I drifted off to sleep, I meditated. I meditated on the word "Healing". I quickly entered a very deep sleep and woke up about twenty minutes later running for the bathroom. What left me at that point was the biggest bloodiest purge I had ever seen. With velocity to match. And you might notice I had not made it to the doctor during this round. But my sense was that this was the finale. I felt "healed". So the next week I got in to see the doctor and no infection or malfunction was found. Told you it was strange. Now, as a Christian guy, you might notice that I did not invoke a necessarily religious benediction, just a word. Didn't give money to Creflo Dollar, Robert Tilton or Jim Bakker. I invoked a word that my mind understood and to which my body responded. Miraculous, maybe. But it occurred to me that the body is designed to heal. From the smallest cut to the most complex brain injury, the human body is designed to try to recover. And certainly in my world God is the designer. God is the author of the human body. So in some ways it makes perfect sense that a word that my mind understands, made more perfect by repetition, would induce the very thing the mind understood. Computers respond to it everyday. It's called programming.
I also hesitate telling this story because others have many more serious health issues that are not cured despite every religious, secular, medical and or mechanical intervention known to man. I remember a little boy at my sons' school dying of a brain tumor at seven years old. Those are the tragedies I cannot comprehend. Hundreds prayed. Hundreds cried for this little guy to no avail. Except that those around us became that much more precious.
This experience and others have led me to look for an explanation for what happened. One of the answers I have found is called Reiki. From the website:
Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy.
I have taken two Reiki classes and have found whatever that energy is to be real. If it a placebo effect it is a very useful one. Sounds way too much like Star Wars, for me but I cannot deny the effect of the mind, body and "spirit", if you will, connection.
And so to my friend who is facing a very difficult and painful situation with bladder cancer, surgery and a lengthy recovery, many prayers and good thoughts going your way. And thank you for giving me the courage to share this story. And for those of you who know me well you know that I have taken up beer drinking again albeit after a 30 year hiatus. I am better at it now; much more moderate.
Of course it has not concluded yet. At this point I take no prescriptions, don't intend to. The doc wants me to take something for slightly elevated cholesterol, but I am not buying it. I will cut down on the carbs, drink lighter (NOT LITE) beer and see how it goes. I am disappointed that he did not prescribe diet and exercise modifications, but that isn't how we operate in the US. There is a lot of snake oil out there, but diet and exercise are the real thing. Ok and losing the extra 30 pounds I am carrying around. But still, this old dude just turned 56 and who knows what other challenges I might face as I get further over the hill.
Comments
Post a Comment