Post Number 74 - Flat-lined

 The mind works in interesting and mysterious ways. One minute you can be feeling on top of the world, feeling like you have purpose in life and that all the pain life has presented to you, has a bigger meaning, when suddenly, the rug gets pulled out from under you and you fall on the floor. I literally felt on top of the world and suddenly, I was struggling to get out of bed.

I no longer wanted to see clients, and that energetic message was heard loud and clear. Clients cancelled and no new clients came, and I was glad. For months my clinic room was filled with new and existing clients, and I worked hard to ensure I was setting them all up for success. With nearly 50 clients on my books, my confidence levels were at an all time high, and maybe this was my downfall. 

One consultation did not go so well, and then a second consultation felt awkward and uncomfortable. Both were brain cancer clients, and both did not seem to feel that I had the knowledge and experience needed to bring them back to good health, despite providing them with evidence based research. I withdrew completely, into a dark dark place, and I wanted to stay there. Everything suffered, my basketball coaching, friendships, and our harmonious household began to fall apart.

I knew I had to brush it off and get on with the task at hand, as my first and original brain cancer client was doing famously well, as he and his family had adopted all the changes and treatment plans without question.  But no amount of telling myself "I could do this" was working. I sought help from emotional health practitioners and while their treatments provided me a little relief, I still struggled to re-light that fire and passion for my work, and for life in general.

I grew more and more lonely and sad as the anniversary of Mark's passing reminded me that I was now five years alone. Then an opportunity arose, a chance to do some group Equine Therapy. I jumped at the opportunity and cleared my diary, which wasn't very hard to do!  

We were a small group of around six participants in a large indoor arena, a facilitator and a horse named Honey, most likely named due to her beautiful honey colour. Our group was asked, "Who wants to go first and have their time with Honey". Usually, I would be the first to speak up and volunteer, as I am fearless, brave and self confident. But I cowered in the corner, had my head down low, and was unable to speak. 

One by one, each participant had their turn with Honey as we watched on and every experience was completely different, even though the horse was the same. You see, Equine Therapy is simply you and the horse, and the horse becomes an extension of your energy and your presence. The horse is not trained to perform a certain way and is completely at liberty, meaning she can walk away, walk with you, face you or not. And this was my biggest fear. I love horses and I don't fear them at all, but I knew this therapy is uncontrollable. What if she walks away or doesn't want to connect with me. What if she feels, like two of my clients, that I don't know what I'm doing, that I am not experienced enough and she just walks away.

Hours flew by and I left the viewing area to get some fresh air. I knew my time was coming as everyone else enjoyed their experience and the facilitator interpreted the movements and gestures made by Honey. I received a phone call from one of the said clients ,and we had a brief chat. I felt slightly better, but still quite troubled. I entered the viewing gantry and stood by the edge of the arena, as I knew it was my turn. I stood frozen in fear and I couldn't move or speak. Honey was now in the arena by herself, and she was standing next to a few jump obstacles that had been left by previous users of the arena. 

She started behaving very strangely as she used her teeth, her body and her hooves to move and push over the obstacles. Everyone was stunned and asking, "what is she doing and why". Everyone made suggestions of what it might have been, but I knew, especially when she knocked over one of the boxes, and then placed her front legs on top of it, as if she was a circus horse. "OMG", I thought to myself. "She is picking up on my energy. She is breaking down barriers and rising above them, I thought". I entered the arena and walked towards her and she stopped her wrecking ball behaviour, looked straight at me, head up, ears pricked forward. I stopped around five metres in front of her. In my mind, I asked her to come towards me and she did! I took a deep breath and we connected physically, as mentally, I asked permission to touch her. She was sweet and gentle and we shared a lovely moment as our energies connected. 

After a little while, I backed away, turned my back and walked away. To my relief, she followed and I continued walking and headed towards the onlookers. Then I thought, "What if she is just wanting to be near all the other participants and she is not actually following me?" I immediately stopped and did a quick about face and walked confidently and rather quickly in the opposite direction to the gantry. Honey was a little taken aback as she coordinated her four legs to make the sharp change of direction. But then I felt her breath on my shoulder as she confirmed to me, that she was there for me and no one else. I stopped and the floodgates of tears flowed. I sobbed as she came even closer, put her head over my shoulder and into my chest, as if to hug me. Words entered my mind..."You are loved, you are worthy, you are protected, you are doing what you are meant to be doing, it's okay, everything is okay".

I pulled myself together, turned around and hugged Honey's neck, and I thanked her for showing me what I needed to see and feel. I walked back to the gantry and everyone looked at me with astonishment, some even with tears. I smiled.

The next day, my spring was back in my step and I felt ready to continue my work and clients presented themselves once more. So my work continues, but things are different now. I love my work and there is much to love and be grateful for in my life, but the emptiness remains. I miss companionship more than anything. I miss Mark every day and yet I know how different my life would be if he hadn't left. I know I wouldn't be involved in Sebastian's Robotics Club, I know I wouldn't have the close and special bond with him that I have, if Mark had stayed, and it's quite possible, that I may not have gone in to my Nutrition practice as I have. It's also possible that Sebastian and Mark would have had such a close bond, that I may have even felt resentment towards them both, as they built robots projects together and attended car racing events without me.

I was once asked "what do you miss about your old self, the person you were before you lost Mark". I think about that question often, and still I cannot find an answer.  I don't miss feeling like I don't belong, or that I need to please anyone, or my lack of confidence in myself or needing someone to emotionally prop me up. I like the person I am now. I like my confidence, my strength, my faith in my Angels, in the Universe. I love hanging out with the "geeks" at robotics. I love the close bond I share with Sebastian and I cannot, for the life of me, think of a character trait that I had, that I miss. 

But I do miss Mark. I miss his unconditional love for me. I miss cooking for him. I miss surprising him with things and making travel plans or home improvement plans with him. I miss greeting him when he comes home from a busy day at work, and I miss his hugs, his wet kisses and his intuition. 

Today I did the grocery shopping, as I do every Saturday, and I found myself holding back tears. I had no thoughts, no worries and no triggers. Only tears. I moved out of the supermarket as fast as I could as I sat in my car and sobbed. Sebastian had a similar experience earlier in the week. Tears for no apparent reason. Is it the looming of Christmas, the knowledge that our beloved Regina from Germany,
will not be joining us this year due to COVID, or just a wave of grief that comes and then goes again? 

Grief never leaves. It changes shape, makes us stronger, and we learn to live with and walk alongside it, but it never goes away. 

Post Number 73 - COVID, Brain Cancer and a Hypothesis

So there I was, working away in my new clinic room, enjoying my new career, just six weeks in, when BLAM...COVID-19 hit us with a WHACK! While technically, we were permitted to stay open, as a Practice, the decision was made to close the clinic for the sake of our health, and the well-being of our clients.  

I also had concerns for the vulnerability of my Mum, so I pulled Sebastian out of school and cancelled all her carer visits. So there we were at home, all together, not seeing clients or any other visitors. At first it was a novelty, home schooling, working from home, going on daily walks out in the sunshine, but that soon wore off. 

Three weeks in, and I felt like I had lost touch with all my clients as they didn't respond to any of my messages. Home schooling became very challenging as Sebastian seemed to take hours to do one small task. I lost my patience with him several times as I slowly lost my mind. 

And then, a phone call from a dear friend that I had met through school. She hesitated at first, and then blurted out, my husband is in the RAH (Royal Adelaide Hospital) with a brain tumour, Glioblastoma grade 4, and is having surgery on Thursday. OH MY GOODNESS...this can't be happening...AGAIN! Same cancer, same location, and another young healthy lean man. I reassured her as best I could while I went into "practitioner mode", while trying to keep my composure as I dealt with the shock in real-time.

Once off the phone, I sat stunned as I took some deep breaths. I talked to my Angels, "Really?" I said, "I just started, how can I possibly treat this man and save his life? Surely I need more experience before I start taking on terminal cases?"  The answer that came back was simple...You ARE ready, you have been studying and researching brain cancer and toxicity for years, IT'S TIME. 

And so it started. I visited the family at home, armed with bags full of "stuff". I had a salt lamp for their bedroom, timers for electronic devices, organic foods, recipes and my laptop to take notes. I quizzed them on mobile phone usage, stress levels and locations of electronic devices at night, and changes were made, right there and then. I also spent a lot of time consoling the family, who were completely falling apart to the thought of losing this wonderful man. What was going to be a 1-2 hour home visit ended up being an entire day and we drove away from their home in the dark, mentally exhausted.

One of the many items in my bag of tricks was my heavy metal scanning device, the OligoScan, that I had just received the day before. I had ordered it six weeks prior, but due to COVID in China, manufacturing and shipping had been significantly delayed. I knew that I wouldn't be able to use it as I had not yet received my software and licence, but, the voice in my head (yes Mark, that's you), kept saying, Just pack it, you never know. I replied back, "but it's Sunday, it's not going to come through today", Just pack it, he insisted. "Ok fine, if it shuts you up, I will pack it". 

4pm and I had just finished another round of tears and discussions with the family about what was to come with treatments through the medical profession, and I quickly checked my email on my phone, and there it was, my licence and the link to download and install the software. I did not delay and quickly set it all up, plugged in the device and got to work. I scanned him, and the result was as clear as day. Heavy metal toxicity was indeed a big factor, but I knew it wasn't the ONLY factor. 

I supported the family as best as I could as the harsh and invasive treatments continued for weeks on end. He handled them well and I supported him nutritionally to help with the damaging effects of radiotherapy and chemotherapy.  And then, another brain cancer client came along and then another. So now I had three clients to work with, collect data from and assist in their journeys. 

By now, the threat of COVID had dramatically reduced in Adelaide and our clinic rooms were open once more. By the second week, I was inundated with new clients and existing clients started booking again. I was elated and overwhelmed all at once, as I worked hard to ensure every client received the answers to their main health question...how did I get to this health state? I was able to answer this question, again and again and I started to feel quite incredible, the OligoScan and blood pathology assisting me almost every time. The only clients I couldn't answer this question for, was my three brain cancer clients. All had high heavy metals, albeit different metals, and I knew stress was a factor, but this was not enough and certainly not grounds for a scientific journal article. 

Months went by and my Nutritional Medicine practice continued to gain momentum as my own health started to suffer. I became increasingly tired and I started to ache all over. First it was just a little in my knees, an old injury from my youth, nothing to worry about.  But this continued to gain strength and soon my whole body ached, especially in the morning when I first woke up. Then sleep started to become an issue and I had to accept the reality, that the dreaded Fibromyalgia was back to greet me! 

One Friday evening, as I sat at the Robotics Club, while Sebastian attended a learning workshop, I decided I needed to tidy up the desktop of my laptop. As an ex-IT Professional, my desktop was rather disgraceful, full of articles and notes to read later. Of course, "later" never came and the desktop became more and more cluttered. I came across some old articles on toxicity and detoxification. I started reading them and all of a sudden, the virtual light-bulb above my head started blinking like crazy. I quickly grabbed some paper and started making notes and joining all those proverbial dots between all my brain cancer clients and Mark. The next week I spent a day working from home and I started putting all my theories together in one article. I sent it to the family who started this whole process and waited for what seemed like an eternity for their response but nothing came. I went to bed thinking, oh well, I'm just a Nutritionist, it's not like I have all the answers. 

Next morning I checked my phone and there was the text message from late the night before "Fucking Brilliant" was the message. I jumped for joy, but I needed more validation, so I sent it to one of my "Published" lecturers from Uni and also to the Functional Doctor that I had formed a good working relationship with, as he was able to provide IV Nutrition and Heavy Metal Chelation treatments to my clients, without the need for them to have full consultations. Both responses came back with very positive feedback and I felt ready to share it with my clients and then published it in as many places I could, including my business website and Facebook page, my personal Facebook page, Instagram and LinkedIn. So now I wait for more clients, in particular brain cancer clients. For my hypothesis to become a reality, I need a bigger sample size and survival rates far beyond the medical professions predictions. 

I feel the weight on my shoulders, and it's both heavy and elating at the same time. The coincidences just keep on coming. The fact there is a functional doctors literally a kilometre up the road, the timing of everything, the finding of old research and the information that just comes, always when I need it. I continue to live each day with gratitude and to be of service. The more I do this, the more life falls into place. Even the Fibromyalgia is a reminder to keep the balance, to love and care for the self, to find the answers and to heal myself once again. 

Post Number 72 – A New Year, A New Business Venture

With my degree now complete after five long years, it was time to take a huge leap of faith and start living my dream of running my own Nutrition business. As I completed my last exam, I sat at home and celebrated with a glass of wine … alone. The feelings of relief, joy and disbelief of actually completing a University degree, totally overwhelmed me. This quickly followed with extreme loneliness. I felt so proud of my achievements; Me, the high school drop-out, the very mature age student, a Bachelor degree! Unbelievable! Mark always knew I could do it and perhaps, deep down I knew it too. He always instilled a confidence in me that I could never find for myself. He always encouraged and supported me to follow my passion. The road wasn’t without its challenges, but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am a better and stronger person and a better practitioner for those challenges.

One of the biggest challenges I faced in those last six months of my degree, was my Mum’s health. During our massive adventure in Borneo and Bali, Mum had experienced several angina attacks while staying in the aged care home. This was highly unusual for her and I put it down to the stress of us being away and her not being in her home surroundings, even though she was in a familiar place.

A few weeks later and I began my final semester of student clinic along with a business subject. Luckily, I only needed to be on campus one day a week, albeit an extremely long day from 7.30am until 6pm, and missing a day was not an option due to the compulsory nature of clinic and classroom theory hours.

Only two weeks in and Mum became increasingly unwell and suddenly seemed to age twenty years. For the first time ever, she actually looked every one of those 92¾ years. Her heart was racing, she was sweating and she was moaning, so I called an ambulance, despite her refusal. Thankfully, she was admitted into Flinders Private Hospital where she was to receive much better care than a public hospital.

Four days later, she was released as she seemed perfectly well as she danced around the corridors of the cardiac ward, with simply a medication to slow her heart rate down. But her condition began to deteriorate again, so I took her to her local GP who knew her well and would understand that her condition was not “normal”. Anyone not knowing her would simply think, “She is just old, she is bound to slow down and look old and frail”. Thankfully, we agreed on the same blood testing investigations. I suspected that she had a bladder infection, which the doctor confirmed with laboratory testing. Her blood markers were completely off the charts in all kinds of directions, leaving both myself and the doctor very confused. We tested urine, blood and stools and treated the infection with both allopathic medicine and nutritional medicine. A CT scan was also completed, as her entire abdomen was extremely tender to the touch.

Fearing the worst, the doctor and I were both surprised that the scan showed no colon cancer as we had both suspected. There was however, a small lesion on her pancreas, but nothing more was discussed about this. The amount of care that she needed during this time was nothing short of “full-time”. She could not get out of bed or her chair, and she could not walk unaided. For weeks, she did not leave her apartment as she couldn’t tackle the one step down from her place to mine. I would attend doctor’s appointments on her behalf to discuss pathology results and her progress, and I arranged for carers to come in for the day I spent at Uni. I was exhausted and again very very alone. At Uni, my colleagues rallied around me, fetched me tea or coffee, gave me much needed hugs, allowed me to cry and supported me as much as they could. But at home, I felt the weight on my shoulders as Sebastian and I had to do everything for her. I texted a friend, telling her my world had been upside down and could we meet. The reply came more like an appointment time than a friendship. She never asked if I was ok or what had rattled me so much. This compounded my loneliness and realisation that I was in this alone…again. Thankfully another friend offered me support over the phone, allowed me to talk and cry and helped me to find some inner strength to keep going.

The memories of caring for Mark came flooding back, front and centre. I constantly felt overwhelmed and Sebastian had to pull his weight more than ever before. He even had to do the cooking one night a week while I was at Uni. He had the help of a carer most of the time to do the cooking, until the carers changed and he was left to cook on his own. But even that required a lot of organisation and planning from me, to ensure I gave him an easy recipe to follow and the ingredients were in the fridge or left out on the bench for him to find.

As each week passed, I continued my nutritional support, and for the first time, Mum was actually compliant with taking supplements, and to my surprise, she started to improve. While I fully understand and know the healing power of nutrition and the body’s’ ability to heal, I also know that anyone elderly, especially over 90, will often not be able to heal very effectively or not to full capacity. But here she was, getting out of her chair, not needing her walking aids so much and then one day, I found her in the kitchen rummaging around in my fridge! Her newest blood tests also showed massive improvements from the blood taken just five weeks prior, as it seemed everything was returning back to her baseline levels.

Eight weeks later and she was back to full health and more active than ever. I was dumbfounded at her body’s resilience and healing ability. It was only weeks later when I needed to write a case study for Uni, that I was given printed results of all her tests and discovered that the lesion on the pancreas had a name (intraductal papillary mucinous neoplasia [IPMN]) and gallstones had also been detected yet these had never been discussed. I researched IPMN, compared all the pathology and everything lined up perfectly. She had suffered from acute pancreatitis, although it had not reached the point of detection on the CT scan and therefore not officially diagnosed. I know I played a big part in healing her, and I wrote my paper on her case with confidence and all the pathology evidence and associated research. She reached her 93rd Birthday as well as seeing another Christmas and had the pleasure of another visit from my cousin from Germany; And I lived to finish my degree and tell the story!

As the New Year came and went and my cousin returned to her homeland, it was time to go full-thrust into starting my business. With most of the planning already done and my ideal clinic room secured, I worked tirelessly to prepare for my new business venture. I took ownership of my leased room on the 15th January and again, with only Sebastian’s help, we moved all my equipment in and setup the room. It was perfect, just as I had imagined. I share the building with a group of young and energetic holistic Osteopaths and the most wonderful and experienced receptionist anyone could ask for. I felt at home right away and was welcomed by this tight group of professional practitioners. I simply couldn’t feel more blessed and supported by my peers. Our modalities complement each other beautifully and we refer each other regularly. The thought of paying rent is still daunting and sometimes the fear and low confidence pops up and presents itself. But I am learning to say “Hi” to it and say “Thank you for your concern” and then just get on with what I do best. With each potential client that I talk to, each business that I partner with and each client that I see, I feel more and more confident and totally elated in the knowledge that I am doing what I am meant to be doing. I have Divine help, I know that. There are too many coincidences for there not to be. This gives me incredible comfort, to know Mark is with me, presenting me with information when I need it, and instilling that confidence that only he knew how to do.

While the adjustment to working from home, to working in a business office has been somewhat unsettling and difficult, I absolutely love going to work each day. Never has my life felt so right, at least, not since Mark passed away. The loneliness is still there, very much, and I am looking at ways of balancing that with other activities such as dancing or meeting new people through “meet-up groups”. But these activities require effort and stepping out of my comfort zone and the security and familiarity of being at home with my young man, playing video games and cuddling up to a movie with him. But I know I need to get out there, have some fun with other adults and start to enjoy life again. I talk to my clients about finding “balance” and I too must find this balance, no matter how difficult it may be.

Post Number 71 - A Time for Healing

Our time in Borneo ended all too soon and while others in our tour group were heading home to return to their lives, we had one more adventure in store- a healing retreat in Ubud, Bali. A friend had told me of this amazing place which had been operating for more than 50 years and used fasting, diet, movement, yoga, meditation and colonics to heal and detox the mind, body and spirit.

After twelve days of constant travel, we were both looking forward to staying in one location for seven whole days, where we could relax and enjoy nutritious food. The journey took longer than expected and once again, we arrived completely exhausted after a 4.15am start and arriving at 7pm. But the grounds and our little bungalow looked amazing and welcoming and we quickly dropped our luggage and ventured up the narrow cobblestone road to find a little restaurant for dinner.

The following day I began my healing program which I soon discovered was quite a rigorous one. Each day consisted of being awoken at 5.30am and greeted with a herbal tea, a 6am sunrise walk for one hour, followed by yoga and meditation until 9am. Breakfast for me consisted of a fresh cold pressed juice, a turmeric shot, some supplements and another herbal tea. Then I had several treatments each day as well as a colonic.

At first everything seemed wonderful and relaxing and while my first colonic was a little strange and uncomfortable, I soon felt the benefits of this amazing treatment. By the end of day one however, I started to develop a headache and day two became even worse. During yoga I continually felt nauseous and just wanted the session to end when a loud banging noise interrupted the class. Someone yelled “earthquake” and we all bolted out of the open air yoga studio as fast as our legs could carry us. We stood outside and watched as the windows rattled and shook. Well that sure was one eventful way of getting out of yoga and meditation!!

I continued with my treatments, despite continuing to feel unwell. Food was offered to make me feel better but food was the last thing I wanted. This was the detox process that I had to go through and by day three, I started to feel amazing and I actually enjoyed the sunrise walk and the yoga session.

By now I was starting to feel sorry for Sebastian as he had needed to entertain himself while I had treatments that lasted several hours. He participated in the daily walks and yoga, but by 10am he was usually on his own. We talked about him attending a cooking class when a fellow patron offered to take him to a class. She made all the arrangements and the next morning they left at 7.30am and arrived back at 1.30pm. I started to grow concerned by 1.15pm when they hadn’t yet returned. I started asking myself if I had done the right thing, letting him go with a complete stranger. But I continued deep breathing, calming myself and telling myself that they would be back any minute. The relief was immense when I saw them finally come down the path.

By now I was feeling physically and mentally amazing. Completely pain free and ready to take on a mountain. So we did! Mt Batur that is. An active volcano and famous for the challenge of climbing it in the early hours of the morning to watch the sun rise from the top. It would be a challenge of epic proportions and I was advised that it was not suitable for children. However, we were determined to do it, so on day five of my juice fast, we were woken at 2.15am, given herbal tea and fresh coconut water, two bottles of freshly made juice and four bananas (I was advised that I would need some sustenance to be able to complete the climb).

Armed with one backpack, jackets, water, head torches and just a phone for photos, we made the one hour car journey to the base of the mountain. We met our guide (Gday was his name), made a quick last toilet stop and began our climb at 4am, along with hundreds of other tourists from all over the world.

A quarter of the way up and I needed to urgently stop. A feeling of total weakness came over me, like the life-force had just drained out and I couldn’t take one more step. Slowly I ate one of the bananas and Sebastian ate one also and within minutes, I was ready to go again. Our guide held Sebastian’s had the whole way up, while I had minimal assistance. I needed to stop several more times than other people, but my determination to get to the top kept me going. At one point, near the halfway point, the rocks where steeper to climb and I began to struggle again. Out of the darkness came an old man wearing thongs. He reached out his hand and his strong grip pulled me up the rocks, step after step, all the while mumbling about buying a cocoa-cola when we get there.

At the halfway point I understood what his mumblings were about. He wanted me to buy a drink from him in return for his help to climb. I gladly purchased a drink from him, albeit not a cocoa-cola. I bought what I thought was water, but it turned out to be a kind of sport ion drink. We shared the small bottle of liquid and continued up the mountain, stopping several times for me to catch my breath, my usually painful knees never giving me any grief what-so-ever. Nearly at the top and many people were stopping for a rest break and many would watch the sunrise from this position. Our guide suggested we end the climb here and that we could still see everything from this spot. Sebastian and I looked at each other, looked up the mountain and said, almost simultaneously, no way, we have come this far, we have to get to the top now.

 
Arriving at the top and we were overcome with emotion. The wind blew hard and cold, sand smashing us in the face. We hugged each other and cried while our guide got us a mat to sit on and his own personal blanket to keep us warm while we sat and watched the sun rise through the clouds. Words can’t describe the feeling of being on that mountain. That feeling of being able to accomplish absolutely anything when the odds are stacked against you. That moment will stay with us forever. Our bond as parent and child forever concreted into our souls. I was so proud of how Sebastian handled himself on that mountain. Never complaining, never faltering and carrying our backpack three quarters of the way up.

The way down was somewhat more relaxed as we took an alternative route down which was longer but easier by far. A little way down and we were shown the large crater and the steam rising through the cracks. Monkeys also awaited the tourists and looked forward to a banana or a cracker from the guides.

From that day on, nothing ever felt a challenge. We had literally climbed a mountain so we could achieve anything. On our last day in Ubud, we did a little shopping at the marketplace, however the constant badgering and bartering became unbearable and we soon hightailed it out of there to look for a bus stop that should have been close by.

We had set our sights on a sound healing in a place called the "Pyramids of Chi". We knew a session was soon to start and they offered a free shuttle bus service. We walked and walked, asked so many people but no-one knew what we were talking about. I had lost the brochure that I had picked up the day before which hadn’t helped our cause. With only twenty minutes before the session was to start, I was desperate. Sebastian so disappointed that we would miss this opportunity, angry with me for spending too much time at the markets, I asked a scooter driver if he knew the location. He said he did and would take us there in 10-15 mins.

Before I knew it, we were on a scooter, driving through the crazy, busy, no rules, narrow streets with no helmets! Seb on the front with me on the back! Five days prior, I believed only crazy people would attempt this style of transport and I certainly wouldn’t put my son at risk doing such a thing. And yet, here we were, doing it and again, a wave of calm came over me as our driver dodged and weaved and dodged and weaved and to his word, we arrived in one piece with five minutes to spare! I was so overjoyed that I hugged the driver who was a little taken-aback by my excitement. Sebastian’s wind swept face, aglow with excitement as he thought the ride was fantastic!

The sound healing was truly out of this world as we lay down on soft mattresses in a large pyramid structure. Gongs, drums and sounds of all kinds energised the room and made every cell in our bodies vibrate. It was a truly epic finish to our seven days of healing.

That night we headed to the craziest airport I had ever been in, as we started our journey home. A midnight flight to Adelaide would see us arrive at 6am in the morning. The plane was full to the brim, uncomfortable and tiring but it felt good to touch Australian soil once more. The chill of the morning biting our faces as we took our transport home. We let ourselves in, turned on the heater and curled up in bed together to catch a few hours’ sleep. We had done it! Three weeks in Malaysia and Indonesia and lived to tell the tale! What couldn’t we do now?

Post Number 70 - A Trip of a Lifetime

As another successful semester of student clinic came to a close, I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to take Sebastian on a holiday to remember. He would be turning 10 soon and I would be graduating from Uni at the end of the year, so the timing seemed  perfect to get away during the winter school break.

My first thoughts were New Zealand, somewhere not too far away. But after seeing three travel agents, it was clear that this would not be a great option for us during the winter months. A touring company called "Intrepid" was presented to us. A company who specialised in family trips and adventures. This was just what we were looking for, an adventure that catered for the young and the young at heart.

The only trip that suited our budget and our travel dates was the "Borneo Family Adventure". It sounded perfect in every way, however, I grew very anxious about taking Sebastian to Malaysia, a country that I wasn't sure of it's safety, especially as a women travelling alone with a child. What was I thinking? And then there were travel warnings stating not to travel there unless absolutely necessary, the fear of pirates, identity theft, diseases such as vaccine induced polio, rabies, malaria, dengue fever or other mosquito transmitted diseases. Would this trip really be worth all these risks?

My head said "no way", and yet, I was still driven forward. I tried to look for another option, but nothing worked. Eventually, with some help from my emotional health coach, I let the fear go and booked the trip with only five weeks to prepare.

The preparation time flew and before we knew it, we arrived at our destination of Kota Kinabalu after 12 long hours of travel.  We breathed a sigh of relief and tried to get some sleep in a small hot and stuffy room. We were both so tired that neither of us noticed the air-conditioning switch on the wall! The following morning we gingerly ventured out of the hotel, armed with a map, a few dollars of Malay ringgit and some Indonesia rupiah, and headed towards the wharfs to catch a boat to an island. We really had no idea what we were doing and had very little cash with us. Once arriving at the docks, we were very quickly pounced upon and asked if we wanted to go to an island. These young fast talking men all wanted us to get on their boat and we were quickly educated that a) they only deal in cash and b) they only use Malay Ringgit and not Indonesian rupiah as we had been advised. Luckily, there was a money exchange nearby and we converted what we thought would be enough money to get a boat ride to an island and hire some snorkelling equipment. That left us with enough small change to perhaps buy an ice cream on the island.

Arriving at the island, our boat off in the distance, we were advised that we needed to pay an island conservation fee which totalled 4x the amount of money that we had in our possession. We looked at each other in dismay, explained and showed what we had. Of course, credit card was not an option. Seeing our distress, the woman behind the counter took all the small change we had and let us through.

We sat on the beach and took a deep breath. I was still shaking and wondering if I had made the right decision to come to Borneo, as this wasn't a good start. And yet, we were here, sitting on a beach, on an island off the coast of Kota Kinabalu. We asked a life guard if we could leave our bags with him (as we had no money to use a locker), so we could both enter the water and see some fish. The sand consisted of ground up coral which was hard to walk on. The water was warm, yet refreshing and once we negotiated our snorkelling equipment, we were on our way to seeing some tropical fish. We entered the water a second time when Sebastian realised his snorkel had detached from his mask. We desperately looked everywhere for it, but it had most likely been swept away by a wave as we tried to enter the water backwards with our finns on. Sebastian burst into tears as he remembered the warnings from the man we hired the equipment from "don't lose it or you will have to pay"!

We found a shady place to sit and relax, eating our snacks that we had brought along. There wasn't much we could do. Sebastian played in the sand while I read a book and tried desperately not to stress about the lost snorkel and how I would pay for it without any cash. Hours later, it was time to return to the mainland and I thought I would ask the friendly lifesavers if any snorkels had been handed in. They said no, but one pointed to something in the sand just near the waters edge. We ran over to it and sure enough one had been washed to shore. While it wasn't the one Sebastian had lost, it completed his set and we rushed to the jetty to board our boat in the hope that all would be okay.

Once back to the docks, we handed the equipment back to the man who had been waiting for our return. We hurriedly walked on when the man yelled "excuse me lady". My heart sunk as we stopped and turned around. "I think you mix up the snorkel" he said.  "Oh, is it ok?" I questioned hopefully. He looked at me, paused, smiled and said, "is ok, is ok". We thanked him and walked  quickly away.

What a day we had, all this and the tour hadn't even started. But even through the stress of it all, the unfamiliar surroundings, the smells, the culture and language differences, I felt an undeniable calm. We were being looked after and we would be okay.

As our tour began, we met the other four families and our tour guide, and this same feeling of calm continued to stay with us. When things could have gone terribly wrong, they just didn't. When an experience could have been ruined by heavy rain, the sun shone and when the activity was over, the heavens opened. We began to notice our room numbers having some significance. Our first room number being 1016 with 10 being Sebastian's age at his soon to be birthday and 16 being the date of my birthday. Then we had 1908, a number I use a lot in passwords including my iPad and phone and in other password combinations. Then 53, the age I will be at my soon to be birthday, and 711, signifying July 2011, when we travelled to Germany together as a family, a dream of Mark's to travel overseas. And finally room number 902, a number I could not decipher and finally I thought all these room numbers were merely a coincidence. But then Sebastian said, but wait Mum, didn't you say that yesterday was the "best day e-v-e-r"? I agreed I had said that, as we had once again been on a beautiful island spending most of the day snorkelling on different reefs and seeing the most beautiful uninterrupted display of nature I had ever seen. "Well yesterday was the 11th and 9+0+2=11, so there you have it" he grinned, his mathematical mind much like his fathers.

I can't deny that this adventure has opened me up to travel, strengthened my faith, filled my heart with love and gratitude and made me feel alive again. The happiness I feel inside is undeniable, as is how proud I am of myself for facing my fears and letting them go. Sebastian also made a new friend along the way and embraced the journey with as much grace as I knew he would. He too has grown a little more mature and learned more about himself and the world around him. This journey was as much a personal growth journey as it was a physical one. A fearless inner strength now burns inside both of us, as our lives begin to move into new areas. Me with my Nutrition Business and Sebastian as he grows into adolescence.  But the journey was not yet over...

 

 

Post Number 69 – A New Future Emerging

Nearly twelve months have past since I last wanted to share any aspect of my life with the world. My constant cries of “no, I am NOT ok” went unheard or ignored leaving me depressed and wondering what my purpose in life really was. Sure, I had an amazing son who I love more than life itself, but was that enough to get me out of bed each day?

My pain and fatigue continued to destroy my quality of life and while acupuncture gave me some relief, it was not enough to keep me feeling well. I continued on my quest to uncover what was causing my ill-health. I went to more practitioners, doctors and specialists seeking answers. Each time, thinking, yes, this is it, only to find out that it wasn’t.

As the first semester ended in July, I had run out of options and run out of class-room opportunities to learn. My days of classrooms and exams were over and soon I would be in our clinic rooms seeing clients with real health issues, just like my own. The thought of this was paralysing. If I couldn’t fix myself, how I could I help others? But then, no other practitioner could help me either!

I decided the only thing I could do, was to take a holiday. A break from life, study and thoughts of the future. I spent weeks organising for a house sitter, a dog sitter and respite care for Mum. The night before we were due to leave, I had no energy left to even pack our bags. To finally fire-up the old girl and drive out the driveway was a feat of epic proportions.

Sebastian and I headed for Mt Gambier, followed by The Great Ocean road. I had serviced the old girl who also needed new tyres and several thousand dollars later, it seemed our holiday would have to be on a tight budget. But it didn’t matter, we had each other and everyone was cared for, so we could relax and enjoy the journey.

From the Great Ocean Road we travelled inland to Sovereign Hill to experience the magical Christmas in July celebrations. It was such an amazing experience and we both felt extreme happiness. The two weeks went by at lightning speed and before long we were back home and back to reality. I now had a week to prepare for my next Endeavour experience-working in clinic as a student nutritionist practitioner.

I organized as much as I could, but nothing could really prepare me for the intensity of this environment. The time pressures, all the different procedures, restrictions, supplementations, computer systems and operational know-hows completely overwhelmed me. I fell apart several times in the first weeks as supervisors yelled at me for not managing my time correctly or for not asking the right questions or for not red-flagging a client file and following protocol. Never in my life had I felt so incompetent and yet, I knew that I wasn’t, but I couldn’t find my feet or calm my nerves. Every mistake I made confirming that I wasn’t cut out for this work and I was close to quitting.

By mid-semester I had seen a few clients, several of them with quite complex health issues. I had begun unpacking their life and health journeys and started identifying the underlying factors driving their ill-health.

By the second half of the semester, clients were returning with improvements in their conditions and pathology reports that reflected my suspicions. I started identifying heavy metal toxicity in several of my clients as well as myself. The more I researched, the more I found on how toxicity effects bodily functions such as the liver, the thyroid, brain health, weight and iron levels. In helping my clients, I began to see the potential answers to my own health challenges and the path forward started to unfold.

As the semester finished, I had my three supervisors review my clinical performance and I was blown away with their positive comments and their high grading of my work. I was told that I had gone above and beyond and obviously worked hard on researching and piecing together the health of my clients. For me, I was just glad that I could make a difference in someone’s life and that all these years of study was beginning to amount to something significant.

With the semester ended and no exams to study for, I was free to breathe, reflect and look forward to a visit from my beloved Cousin from Germany. I spent my days planning special events, gatherings and ways to show her our beautiful state. Her three weeks were full of laughs, spontaneous singing and constant joy and it was one of the most special Christmas’s I had ever experienced. We talked about holistic health, organic food and our modern world of processed food and disease. We talked about health retreats, yoga and meditation and we learned and discussed a future that “could be”.

Post Number 68 - Recovery or NOT

It's been a while since I have felt like writing. Usually it is enjoyable and therapeutic for me to write my feelings and experiences in a posting. But the last few months have brought the highest of highs and the lowest of depressive lows. Just when I felt my health was on the road to recovery, the rug would be pulled out from under me and I would fall victim to the pain, fatigue and brain fog that is fibromyalgia.

I started having acupuncture treatments at College and gained much relief from my symptoms as well as finally figuring out what was happening in my body. I previously mentioned the stress that life as a solo parent can bring and it suddenly dawned on me that my body was permanently set to "fight or flight mode" and never switching off to allow my body to heal, digest and rest. My body and my brain was always ready to "make a run for it" leading to fatigued muscles and reduced digestion, meaning I was not absorbing any of the wonderful nutrition that I was feeding my body. I finally understood why my body felt like it had "run a marathon" when I had done nothing more than a simple day of study and care for Sebastian and my Mum.

I asked the acupuncture student practitioner to insert the needles in the appropriate places to "turn off the sympathetic nervous system" and the next day I felt like a new person. I continued weekly treatments until the end of the semester and felt invigorated, pain free and full of life. Sebastian and I went bike riding and swimming together, and I began enjoying morning pain-free jogs with the dog. I had four glorious weeks of feeling the ultimate in health and wellbeing and some of the excess kilos started to shift.

But the semester ended, the acupuncture treatments stopped and study for exams began. Each week I began feeling weaker and the pain started returning and before long, I felt like I was back to square one. I began feeling so frustrated, so upset, irritable and angry that this was my life again. Depression starting raising its ugly head as I suffered in silence. The feelings of loneliness and despair overwhelmed me once again as the lost kilos quickly returned without any nutritional input from me.

I threw myself into exam study, determined to do well and pass convincingly, feeling that perhaps, once the exams are over, my body can relax again. The last subject was a huge triple content subject and I felt like I was learning everything from scratch as the lectures I attended all seemed a distant memory. I dedicated every day in revising 120+ hours of lecture content, in the hope that something would stick in my memory.   Finally the day of the exam arrived and I spent a few hours at home revising a few things before heading in to the city. I found a wonderful cafe, ordered some lunch and spent the last hour cramming as much as I could. But nothing more could fit in and I began to panic as I tried stopping myself from completing melting down. I couldn't remember what I had just read two minutes ago, so how could I possibly complete this exam?

Walking in to the College and my fellow classmates seemed to be as nervous as I was. I just wanted it over with and wanted the holidays to begin. It seemed to take forever before we were finally allowed to start the exam and a final prayer to my angels and some deep breathing helped to calm me as I read the exam paper. I started writing and felt comfortable with most of my answers. "I had this", I thought, "I can pass this massive subject" and I smiled as I completed the paper, sat back and looked around the room. "It's over for another year", I made it!

With this huge weight off my shoulders I now had to make a decision. Drive to Mt Gambier for the weekend to attend a family function or stay home. "What's to think about?" you may be asking. "Just go", you may be thinking. If only life was that simple.

Just a week ago, while at home studying, I had been relieved to witness the dog being much less obsessive and aggressive towards the chickens. Her behaviour had been more manageable and I had also had some advice from another dog behaviourist. I noticed that one of the chickens had been getting underneath the wire fencing and entering the buffer zone that I had created to keep the dog and the chickens apart from one another. I could hear when this situation occurred as I heard a crazy bark from the dog, so I would bring her inside and place the chicken back to her safe zone along with the rest of the flock and peace was restored. I would get to fixing that hole on the weekend.

It was Thursday and Sebastian had woken looking very grey indeed. Already blowing his nose ten times before breakfast, I knew Sports Day at school was not a good option for him. As I was home studying, I felt the best place for him was on the couch. Later that afternoon, his nose stopped running and his energy levels returned and he wanted to go out and spend time with his newest feathery friends. He loved spending time with the chickens, feeding them, holding them and giving them treats like spinach or fresh mealworms. When he entered the gate, they all come running towards him, excited to see what treat he may be bringing them. I had advised him that if any of them had entered the buffer zone to quickly put the dog inside and correct the situation, which he indeed needed to do.

While I don't know exactly what happened in those next two minutes, I do know that Mum headed out the back door, the dog got out, I was heading up the hallway as I had finished my study for the day and one of the chickens had somehow gone from the buffer zone and was now walking around the backyard. It was one of those moments when everything slows down into slow motion. Sebastian's screams will be forever etched into my brain as he watched the dog grab the chicken by the neck and squeeze. I seemed to run into obstacle after obstacle as I ran to save my son's beloved pet from the jaws of the dog, to no avail.

After getting the dog away from the situation, I held my Sebastian tight as he screamed and screamed, terrorised by what he had witnessed. I too started wailing as I blamed myself for not getting to that hole sooner and for not checking that everything was safe and secure outside. I had also allowed the chickens the freedom of the whole backyard the previous weekend, thinking they might like to eat some of the grass, but instead they dug in the dirt, something they have more than enough of in their own chicken run. Yes I blamed myself for every rookie mistake I made that led to this horrible event.

So just packing up and leaving for the weekend is not quite that easy. I usually ensure a carer comes each day that I am away, but Mum refused this and she would only allow someone to come on two days of the four that I would be away. Her fierce independence often putting her in less than safe situations, as she feels that she can do anything and by me organising for neighbours to look after the chickens meant that "she was good for nothing" in her eyes. I struggled with the decision, but also felt a desperate need to get away and connect with Mark's family. I had to go.

The morning of our departure, Mum and I had a screaming fight. As she walked past me, she patted my stomach, indicating my weight was visually back on show. "When I was young, we used to wear a corset" she said. Already stressed about leaving, worried and upset from a conversation with a friend the night before, my volcano erupted. I screamed and wailed, disgusted that she could be so cruel as to highlighting my weight gain when I have tried so hard to shift it. It took a long time for me to calm down, finish loading the car and finally back out the driveway. Before leaving, I hugged her (something we never do), apologised for my outburst and left. 120kms on and I was already exhausted with still 300kms to drive.

We stopped for breakfast and I apologized to Sebastian for my behaviour and tried to explain to him how complicated my relationship with my Mum is. By the time we reached our destination, my eyes were red and puffy from weeping most of the way, my head was pounding from a stress-induced migraine and I was physically spent. I dropped Sebastian at his Uncles so that I could unpack and lie down.

That was two days ago and I am finally feeling calmer and relaxed after leaving Sebastian with his Uncle and Grandpa for the day. I wish we didn't have to drive home tomorrow and face reality again, but stay in country, enjoy home baking, cups of tea and 5pm Happy Hour. But I must get back, get on with preparations for Christmas and maintenance to the house and garden. Running away isn't the answer, but it does provide some temporary relief, some opportunities to read, breath and pretend that everything is okay.