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On Saturday, February 26, 2000, I removed all the furniture and other
items from my screen porch and hosed it down. It was kindaı fun my
cats, on the loveseat on the other side of the picture window, were
fascinated water was cascading against them without touching them.
I was fascinated by all the accumulated spider
and cobwebs and dust. Earlier in the week two friends had stopped by
and, having two men in my home at once, I requested they move the
wrought iron and glass table and its chairs to an outdoor area, leaving
only lightweight resin furnishings and miscellaneous things. With the
screen door securely closed I let Peaches, my orange and white cat, and
Savannah, my black cat, investigate the changed porch. Peaches was gray,
not white, upon his return to the living room. He seemed quite pleased
with the interesting objects he had sniffed out during the grand
inspection.
I digress. I sprayed, rinsed, hosed, scrubbed
and dubbed all the things that were now in the yard, some on top of my
car. The porch itself became a sea of water and I called my neighbor to
borrow a "swab the deck" push broom so I wouldnıt wreck my
kitchen broom in this fast-becoming-a-major-project. Although Iıd
swabbed most of the water out the door the whole concrete area was sortaı
slippery. So were the flip-flops Iıd chosen to wear to save wetting my
"real" sandals.
On one of my trips up the two steps onto the
porch, carrying something, my left arm caught on something a door
jamb? and I fell -- feeling the pull of skin and hearing a crack and
feeling searing pain. After a moment I got up, ran in the house and
grabbed an ice gel-pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a thin towel and
sat on my recliner with the ice on the arm. I did breathing exercises.
It occurred to me that it would hurt less if my arm was more elevated
so, with my right hand, I reached for a nearby phone book for support.
Having recently received a rough cut of a few
songs from singer/healer/harpist/workshop leader Erik Berglundıs
soon-to-be-released album, "Angel Chants," I got up and turned
it on. It helped keep me calm as I sang or thought along.
There was this "lump" sort of
protruding just below my elbow and I noticed my fingers were turning
gray and numb. Inspired to press, eventually real hard, with my right
hand over the ice pack and towel at that place, I heard and felt a click
and a snap and feeling flowed back into my hand. I could now move my
fingers without pain.
I called a friend, who came by after a little
while, bring along a "Holy Pizza." I was a bit delirious
perhaps (there was fever as the bodyıs defense mechanisms kicked into
action). Eventually, after telling her how I once saw a Holy Cow -- in a
pasture next to a Catholic Church she told me what was now in my frig
was a "Whole Wheat Pizza."
My friend urged me to go to the Emergency Room
but refused. I truly believe that Love Heals and that God is Love.
Besides, it being a Saturday, I figured all the ER people would do is
splint it and tell me to keep ice on it and go to a doctor on Monday.
My friend brought me pillows to elevate my arm
higher saying an injured arm needed to be higher than my heart. Itıs
good to have friends. Friends let you be a little weird, even when they
donıt necessarily think youıve got all the marbles in your jar. I
refused the pillows from my own bedroom, demanding the ones from my
guest room.
"Last year, when Erik was here for a week
or so, he slept in the guest room. Maybe some of his healing vibrations
are still in the pillows," I explained.
"Oh," she said, acknowledging the
superiority those pillows would have, but wondering why the pillow cases
were black.
"They werenıt black when Erik slept
there. I changed them, a swami-guy was here for a visit later and."
I drifted here into babble-talk Iım sure. Since her daughter was
arriving for Spring Break from Rhode Island my friend left me.
Every 45 minutes I got up to get colder ice,
more water and turn the cassette over. I was in pain and slightly
feverish. I went to bed, with those two pillows on my left side, my
injured arm resting on them and Erikıs "Harp of the Healing
Light" softly playing on repeat all night. I woke up injust about
the same position. Usually I toss and turn a lot.
The next day I went to church, gave a
presentation about Erik Berglundıs coming workshop there and went to
lunch with the minister. My arm hurt.
Another good friend called. He lives far away.
He told me to call a nearby friend and get them to go to a drugstore and
get a splint to immobilize my arm. He got me to promise to see my HMO
physician on Monday. I did call a few people. Their lines were busy or
no one was home. I sat in my chair and sat "Angel Chants,"
sometimes alone and sometimes with the recording.
On both these days I practiced a Universal
Prayer taught me by Erik. Itıs a circular prayer, said to oneself,
breathing in deeply one breath broken into two parts; at each part of
the inhale saying "I am filled with the power and healing of
God." Then, as I held the breath I said it once again. As I exhaled
I said it two times again, pausing between during the exhale. As I held
the exhale I said "I am filled with the power and healing of
God" again. (All together one "round" is six repeats of
the prayer.) This continues for five minutes and after that I began
filling my etheric body with the very powerful words "I and God are
One." I continued saying this rewording of Jesusı "I and my
Father are One" (since God is both male and female) for 30 minutes,
concentrating first on my etheric, then physical, then mental and
finally spiritual bodies.
At about 9:30 p.m. Sunday, in pain, I asked
God, "Is there anything else I should do?" I "heard"
an angel voice tell me to make some chamomile tea and drink it with
belladonna. I laughed aloud. "Sure," I said to the universe.
"Iıll just bet theyıve got belladonna at the 24-Hour
Wal-Mart!"
Knowing that I did have chamomile tea, I put
the tea kettle on a burner and opened my cupboard. I noticed a glass
that held a number of packets of homeopathic remedies. The first one I
pulled out said "Belladonna 200cc" on it. I assume that by now
you realize that I have a lot of friends and coincidences are ordinary.
As I started to roll one of the little balls of belladonna out of the
packet I remembered not to touch homeopathic remedies so I got a piece
of folded paper to roll it on and slid the belladonna into the tea cup.
On Monday I called my HMO physicianıs office
and was told to come in. With one hand I keyboarded an explanation of
what happened and what I had 
done -- without mentioning the chanting and praying, but telling about
yogi breathing exercises to keep myself calm.
There was the customary wait. I silently
"sang" Angel Chants, alternating with the Universal Prayer.
Eventually I was in an examining room and the doctor came in. He read my
little sheet and jumped up and down with joy.
"Finally! Some one did the right thing
when they were hurt!" he exclaimed.
Looking at my arm the doctor managed to grab
just the right spot to make me scream and jump with pain. He gave me a
"work order" and sent me to the HMOıs headquarters for
x-rays. When the technician developed the shots she told me "There
is a break."
I expected to be shuffled along to a casting
room. I had just begun wondering whether I would be cast as "Snow
White" or one of the "Dwarfs" when a radiologist came in
and handed me a brown envelope with the x-rays and told me to return to
my doctorısoffice.
The wait wasnıt very long this time. The
doctor put the x-rays up on light boards and fairly salivated at the
sight of them.
"Tell me again what you did after you
broke your arm?" he asked.
I told him about the ice, arm elevation and
breathing exercises again.
"Exactly how did you breathe?" he
asked.
I didnıt tell him the Universal Prayer and I
didnıt mention "Angel Chants." I did demonstrate the
breathing technique as well a fire-breath mudra I had used during the
weekend. The treatment room I was in had Egyptian drawings from the
doctorıs trips to that country. The papyrus drawings show various
birthing and surgical techniques.
He told me the break in my arm had been
perfectly set when I "pushed on that lump" and that the bone
was already two-thirds knit. Neither he nor the HMO consultants felt any
cast or splint necessary. In fact, he said he felt if one was used with
my fast healing that the potential for over-knitting, weakening the limb
and restricting the use of my fingers, might result. The doctor asked me
to promise to continue putting ice on it and not to use it at all for a
few days or up to a week.
He sent me home with a pile of prescriptions
one of which was for antibiotics because, he said, "You have a
very bad infection in your throat."
My throat was very red from singing
"Angel Chants" for two days. I did not fill the prescriptions.
Fear washed over me on Wednesday when I picked up a glass of water and
pain screeched through me. I took the prescriptions to the pharmacy but
didnıt pick them up.
Using "Angel Chants" and the
Universal Prayer I returned to a more balanced state of being. Love
Heals. God is Love. In less than two weeks I had forgotten about the
break and by the time a month was past could lift anything I normally
can without any pain. |
