Monday, May 6, 2013

Discovering Alternative Medicine



(~~Most of my readers know that Marla Turner is my pen name.  In order for the magic of this story to unfold, I need to share that my first name is actually, Miriam.~~)

When I was 25 years old, I was existing in the aftermath of many choices made from childhood frustration, the naivete of young adulthood, and not being sober.

I was suffering from work burnout, in an abusive relationship, still not completely sober, but better than I had been.

Not too surprisingly,  this all created imbalances in my body as well.

I developed ovarian cysts.  They were so bad that I would pass out from the pain and I could barely walk.

This would be when the realities of the lagging attention to women's medicine in Western Medicine was revealed to me.

Learning to respect my Self...

I was poked, prodded and treated like an inconvenience by several doctors.  It was believed that I was lying for attention by many of the people in my life.  Of course, my partner believed it was all in my head.

I was put on birth control and told that once I had a baby this would all get better.

This was unacceptable to me, but the idea of not ovulating for a while gave me a sense of relief.

And it did relieve my mind and body enough to help me realize there had to be another way.

The second month, the pills stopped working, my body tried to ovulate and I was in pain again, but at least I could walk.

I threw the pills away, and in an effort to keep my employer happy and stay close to home, I went to the local clinic to have another examination and to get documentation for my ailment.

This is when I was examined by a doctor whose accent confirmed, he was from India.

In the middle of the pelvic exam, he looked at me and said "You are too young to be having such bad health."

I started crying, "I know."  He then had me inhale and as I exhaled, he pushed down on my pelvis.  We then did it a second time.

"You have a swollen ovary and a tilted uterus."

This was the first time anyone acknowledged that I actually had a good reason to be in pain.

Then, he held my hands, looked deeply into my eyes and said something so profound, it changed the trajectory of my life.

"You are Miriam.  Miriam is the mother of Christ."

(Miriam is the mother of Christ in Islam)

In other words, "You are sacred.  It's time to acknowledge that."

It was not too long afterwards that I discovered yoga, Native American healing/philosophies and my local health food store.

Remember, it's 1995.  The internet wasn't the resource it is now.  I spent a lot of money on books and high end items to discover how to truly heal my Self.

Which has brought me to today.

Today, doctors urge their patients to take control of their own health and we barely blink when someone shares that they are seeking alternative treatments. We can now pick them up at the grocery store - even at Walmart!

I still get cysts every once in a blue moon.

They are never as bad as they were in 1995, but you can be guaranteed they are a signal.

At their worst, they are my alarm that I am allowing a hostile situation in my personal space.

But, always, they are my indicator that I am not caring for my Self and that I am not honoring my sacredness.


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