Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Grounding Again

If there's one good thing to come out of my recent knee injury (read about this injury HERE), it would have to be that I've rediscovered grounding.

"Grounding" (also known as earthing) was something I used to do ALL the time before I was diagnosed with Lyme; in fact, I used to sleep on a grounding pillow case all night. 


However, after Lyme, for whatever reason, I had difficulty tolerating the grounding. In fact, saying I had 'difficulty' is a bit of an understatement. It would make me dizzy, shaky and lightheaded as anything. Was it a herx? No idea. All I know is that something that used to be so good for me suddenly seemed so bad. It was like Lyme knew earthing was good for me and punished me when I tried doing it. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Lyme seems to have an intelligence to it. It knows when you're doing something that will help you and will punish you for it. In fact, it knows EVERYTHING that's going on. It even knows we're talking about it right now. Ssshhhh. Only whispers from here on in, okay?


(Whispering) Now, I'm sure many of you are wondering: What is grounding?


Grounding/earthing is the process of connecting your bare feet (having socks on is ok) to the earth or a grounding mat that you can purchase online. This simply means placing your feet flat against the earth (or mat) or walking on the earth barefooted. The earth has a negative electron charge to it and this negative charge helps neutralize a harmful, inflammatory positive charge in our bodies that has gradually developed over time due to things like illnesses, cleaning/hygiene toxins, EMF pollution, air/food/water pollution etc.


Now, grounding isn't a revolutionary concept. It's only "a thing" now because it needs to be. What I mean is that, hundreds of years ago, we all "earthed" all the time, only we didn't really know it because we all walked around either barefooted or with non-rubber-soled footwear that still conducted the earth's negative charge into our bodies (like moccasins, for example). By nature, we're all *supposed* to be more connected to the earth. In today's modern world, however, we all mostly wear rubber-soled sneakers or shoes whenever we're outdoors. Rubber, as most of us know, obstructs our bodies' conductivity; this is why electrical wires are insulated with rubber or why we take cover in cars with rubber tires during electrical storms. It's nice to be protected from harmful electricity but when we wear rubber soles all the time we never receive the healing negative electrons from the earth. For this reason, the human race has never been so disconnected from the earth as we are today.


Exacerbating this disconnection problem is the fact that we've also never been more positively-charged than we are in these modern times. The technological revolution that has brought us cell phones, computers, tablets, Hi-def TVs, wireless Internet etc. has given rise to an influx of EMF pollution. Add in other modern-day pollutants like fluoride in water, GMOs or additives in foods, heavy metals in cooking wear/cosmetic products/vaccines, antibiotics/other medications, and we've never had so many toxins in our bodies. Numerous toxins give birth to numerous free radicals, which deplete our bodies of electrons. The more free radicals we have, the more electrons we lose and the more positive in charge we become. Indeed, it's actually a very negative thing that we've become so damn positive!


So if we've never been so disconnected from the earth due to footwear and we've also never been so positively charged due to the pollutants of the modern world, then we basically all of a sudden find ourselves faced with an epic electron crisis where we're all in desperate need of negatively-charged electrons. I suppose we could call it an electron epidemic. The entire human race is starving for negative vibes. We just don't know it.


For Lymeys, our body is in an even greater state of electron desperation because of the havoc Lyme has wreaked on our bodies. Whether it's because of viral problems, parasite problems, heavy metal problems, candida problems, coinfection problems or the Lyme spirochetes themselves, electron-eating free radicals are more than aplenty in our bodies and grounding may be key in helping to neutralize our charge.


As for me, I was very worried that I would never tolerate grounding ever again since I had so much difficulty tolerating even a liiittle bit. All it took was just 15 minutes on my grounding mat to make me feel very woozy and even a little dizzy, shaky etc. 


However, with my knee injured, I was determined to try again because I knew that grounding promoted healing, lowered cortisol levels and, thus, helped reduce inflammation (source). I needed to have more patience with the process. Maybe I needed to build myself up, little by little (as is the case with everything else when you're a Lymey) and this way I would eventually tolerate the grounding.


So I did just that. I started out very slow. All I could tolerate was 15 minutes at a time and that's what I did. Then, after several days, I tried 20 minutes. And, then, after several more days -- maybe a week -- I eventually tried 30 minutes...



Soaking in some negative vibes.
One night, I forgot I was even on the grounding pad and I spent a good 45 minutes on it. I kind of freaked when this happened because I thought I would feel sick from being on the pad so long. But I didn't even feel that woozy after. I was back, baby. I was able to tolerate the earthing again. Whatever herxing that may have taken place, that herxing was now over.

As I write this, I at least do 30 minutes of grounding a day, but I often do two 30 minute sessions a day, so an hour total. That's a decent amount of grounding, enough to make a significant difference with the charge in my body.


Overall, grounding again has made me feel stronger, more relaxed, more harmonized, more "in control" of my body and more normal. However, I must admit it has not resolved my knee issue. The knee dilemma may have to be solved another way but maybe this has all happened for a reason, so I could rediscover grounding and get the negative electrons that my body so desperately needed, especially from so much Lyme damage.


Here are some other key benefits of grounding (according to an article I found): 


Reducing chronic pain

Improving sleep

Increasing energy

Lowering stress and promoting calmness by reducing stress hormones

Normalizing biological rhythms, including circadian rhythm

Normalizing blood pressure and blood flow

Relieving muscle tension and headache

Speeds healing

Reduces jet lag

Protects body from EMFs

Helps recover from athletic injury

Reduces snoring

Helps support adrenal health


Sources


https://www.purposefairy.com/81302/the-amazing-science-behind-earthing/


https://wellnessmama.com/5600/earthing-grounding/



For Further Reading


EARTHING: The Most Important Health Discovery Ever! by Clinton Ober, Dr. Stephen T. Sinatra M.D., Martin Zucker, Gaetan Chevalier

Monday, January 7, 2019

Crisis of Faith

I would be remiss if I didn't mention a recent battle that has run parallel with my Lyme and fluoroquinolone toxicity struggles. I haven't yet mentioned this battle because I didn't think it had anything to do with Lyme or being "floxed" but I now think that there must be some connection. The battle I speak of is with...

Basal Cell Carcinomas.

I started seeing a dermatologist back in August, I still see the same one now and I don't necessarily see myself stopping in the very-near-future. A couple -- or maybe a few -- of these basal cells were present prior to me getting ill in the summer of 2017, but these red spots seemed to get worse after getting Lyme and several others seemed to pop up post-Lyme. Is there a connection? Or just coincidence?

Right now, I'm starting to think there's a connection because the timing seems too synchronous. Perhaps a magnesium deficiency is to blame since magnesium is integral to having healthy skin (read about magnesium deficiencies HERE). Or, perhaps, an excess of heavy metals is to blame, which are known to seep through the skin and cause problems (read about heavy metal toxicity HERE). Or, perhaps, a stressed immune system is to blame; my immune system spent so much energy fighting Lyme and parasites and viruses and heavy metals -- not to mention the fact that it was suppressed by steroids immediately after the Levaquin disaster -- that skin cancer may have seized opportunity and came out to play.

Anyway, biopsying and treating the skin cancers has been less than...um...fun. Part of the problem is that, for many of the basal cells, I have no choice but to remove them via surgery, which leaves scars, because the alternative option is to use a chemo cream but, because I'm now overly sensitive to chemicals, I do not want to use the chemo cream (my LLMD also recommended against doing so). I mean, can you blame me? Levaquin was a chemo drug (read about my disastrous experience taking Levaquin HERE). Do I really want to use another chemo drug? Not that the cream would be as strong as Levaquin (at least, I don't think it would be) but I still feel it would cause me problems, even though it's used topically.

So, right now, I'm starting to look like some angry old man put cigarettes and/or cigars out all over my body. Okay, it's not THAT bad...yet...but it may be getting to that point.

As far as the basals on my face and neck go, I must remove them via a special surgery called "MOHS." This is partially a good thing and partially a bad thing. It's good because I don't have to worry about using the chemo cream or having them removed by regular surgery that leaves a cigarette-burn-looking scar. It's bad because it's REALLY friggin' difficult finding a Mohs surgeon that takes my insurance. 

If I haven't made it obvious yet in these articles, I don't have good health insurance. I had to get on the phone for several hours, calling different places: surgeon offices, my insurance company, my primary care provider etc. Just when I thought I found somebody, I was let down. My insurance company would say this surgeon took my insurance; I would call them and they would say no, they didn't. My PCP would tell me another surgeon took my insurance. Nope, they didn't. I would log onto my insurance company website and get the names of several surgeons who took my insurance. Nope, none of them did. It seemed like a wild goose chase.

Finally, after maybe dozens of phone calls, I determined Mass General Hospital took my insurance and I set up an appointment for a consultation. I would've let out a deep exhale...EXCEPT...there was another problem: my knee. The back of my knee. It was still bothering me (see the end of my last blog) and walking in Boston, to and from Mass General, would be significantly more difficult. I had no idea what was wrong (and still have no idea as of writing this), whether it was torn cartilage or meniscus, tendonitis, arthritis or something else. This was very frustrating because the timing was awful. Just a couple weeks earlier, I was walking greater distances than I had been since I was sick. The walk to Mass General would have been no problemo but now it was a BIG problemo and it added to my stress.

Flash-forward a couple weeks later and my knee started feeling better; in fact, I would say it felt about half better and I thought it would only improve more as time went on. I thought the trek into Mass General would be no big deal and consequently (and, as it turns out, foolishly) I started amping up my walking a bit more. The most amped of these walks took place two days before my consultation in Boston. After this walk, my knee flared up all over again. I thought I was screwed and I was pissed at myself for walking too much. Why didn't I just take it easy? At least until the appointment was over? Now it would be much greater a challenge getting into Boston for the freggen appointment.

Waiting for the Blue Line.
I went online and literally mapped my commuting route into Boston, down to the very last step. Parking at MGH was supposedly a major pain in the butt cheeks so I knew public transportation was my best option. I found that I could take the commuter train into Back Bay Station, then take the Orange Line subway to State Street and transfer to the Blue Line, which took me to the Bowdoin stop that was only a four-minute walk from the building my appointment was at. This meant all the walking involved would be the four-minute walk, in addition to some minimal walking inside train and subway stations. Oh, and it would be round trip. Could I do it?

I wasn't sure.

Ultimately, I had my dad come along for the appointment. This way, he could help me out if the walking was too much for my angry knee. Of course, I felt like a dingbat taking my dad with me for the appointment. I'm sure the secretary at MGH was, like, "Why the F does this 36-year-old man have his dad here with him for his appointment?" I wanted to answer, "Because I'm a Lymey Bastard and I hurt my knee and I sometimes need help doing really simple shit!" But I knew I couldn't just yell this out.

In the end, I made it to and from the appointment ok. My knee bothered me a little bit but it miraculously felt better as the day went on. The weather was on the warm side and I think that, for whatever reason, the knee joint feels better when it's warmer and slightly more humid as opposed to very cold and dry winter air. Does this mean it's arthritis? No idea. I'm not a doctor.

So I guess my worry was ultimately unnecessary but, still, I mean, my God! At a certain point, you start to wonder, how much more of all this can I take before I lose it completely? What are the limits of my sanity? How could things have become so bad? Is this all worth it? Am I better off dead? Seems like a total disaster. Total nightmare. Nothing is easy. Lyme = lack of physical ability = lack of ability to make sufficient money = lack of good health insurance = huge-ass hassle for a person who doesn't feel great to begin with. It seems like just when you think things couldn't get any worse (and maybe, just maybe, things are starting to get/look better), they do get worse and your capacity to withstand misfortune keeps getting tested further and further. The question is, when will this all end? When will things turn around? Will they ever??

If this whole "Lyme experience" is good for nothing else, it certainly makes you think about the misfortunate people out there, how they're always out there and you should never forget them. You can easily become one of these misfortunates yourself and you would want people to think about you and not be forgotten or ignored. That's part of the golden rule, I think. Do and think unto others.

Also, this experience humbles you in ways that you never ever could imagine. When you find yourself mapping out a trip into Boston down to the very last step because you can only take a limited, finite amount of steps...well, that humbles a man who, just a year and a half ago, was zipping through Boston on his feet at about 20 miles per hour (see ONE LAST HURRAH WITH DADDY blog). No matter what my future holds, whether I get much better, fully better, back to normal or what-have-you, one thing I will NEVER do again is take my body and my health for granted. Fuck no, I will not do that. I almost feel like everybody should go through the experience of having to map out a trip to a much-needed doctor's appointment down to the very last freakin' step and experience the fear of maybe, just maybe, not having enough steps in you to make it there. People need to feel the stress and frustration of being so physically limited. People also need to feel the embarrassment of needing to depend on somebody for assistance (in my case, my dad). That's the kind of shit that will put perspective into your eyes.

Lastly, this experience could be one gigantic test of faith. I've been tested before but not quite to this extent. If this is a test of faith, it's an epic one and really, really, really (and also really) difficult. In fact, I don't think it's ever been so difficult for me to hold the faith. I've never been so close to losing it completely and I've never been so close to entering a state of deep and total despair. I'm not quite there yet, but, damn, I've never been so close.