New information comes to me on Wednesday’s wings. It begins like most days, an early walk into Kurpark for bitter salt water before breakfast. There’s a lovely young women that greets me when I arrive. She’s was in the same position in 2016 and it warms my heart that she remembers me. I have a special business card from Huefland that affords me discounts at certain places around town, the Wandehalle is one of those places. I pay 5 Euro for one month of daily access, which includes a handled glass and a numbered Tamar follows me for the month. The staff takes care of sterilizing my glass and returning it to a metal carousel behind the front desk. My girl never needs to look at my business card, she remembers my number from day 1.
This week’s agenda includes a treatment I’ve not had before, at least not this variety. I choose my breakfast items in smaller portion and with care. If I have a magnified reaction to this version of the treatment, I prefer to do it with a less than full stomach. Erring on the side of less also puts me in a comfortable state to enjoy my next modality, magnetic field therapy.
Just as your cells can be signaled to perform new and different functions by stimulation with chemicals (e.g., nutrients or drugs) they can also be signaled energetically, with electromagnetic waves. Some very desirable cellular functions are stimulated more robustly by energy than by chemistry. That is the point of magnetic field therapy. It’s a very passive treatment. I lay on a mat that contains copper coils to simulate the frequencies and intensity of the earths magnetic field. It’s crazy relaxing, eliminating stress and tension while encouraging greater oxygen supply and enhancing how my body works at the cellular level. The treatment lasts 30 minutes and then I’m off to the races.
I make the trek up to the 3rd floor (which amounts to 8 flights of stairs, as I’m starting from the basement) for my daily injection. It’s a cocktail of 5 different homeopathic flavors targeting my liver, kidneys, and lymph system. And now it’s time for the newest addition to my program, a full-plant mistletoe injection. I had mistletoe infusions in late 2016 and then I continued with self-administered subcutaneous injections when I returned home. What’s different about today’s mistletoe preparation is that it will be a single treatment as part of a larger therapeutic approach. The part of the plant that will be included this time has pyretic qualities, so, it will induce a fever. The plan is to have the injection today, let the fever run it’s course through the night and on Thursday, have a round of full body hyperthermia to see if we can get the fever to spike higher. So basically, giving me a head start.
My afternoon schedule is abbreviated by design, in case the mistletoe fever response is quick.
I have one treatment, and of all those offered at Huefland, it is one of my favorites – BrainLight Synchro. I lie on a comfortable bed, fluffy cozy blankets a given. My therapist outfits me with a headset and adjusts the volume, not too loud, not too soft. Next, a pair of futuristic looking glasses complete my look. He flips a switch, exits the room, and leaves me equipped for the journey ahead. A soft voice talks me through a meditative grounding exercise while optical multi-colored patterns and acoustic signals, in stimulating sequences, are produced, quintessentially psychedelic! The light impulses are realized through my closed eyelids. I train with total self awareness. A deep relaxation follows, my breath slowing and regular and my muscles releasing their grip. This trip goes on for 40 minutes, the end of the session as important as the beginning. I don’t get up immediately, lingering to draw in every drop of experience. The remainder of my day continues on, I’m more relaxed, more precise.
By evening my temperature is starting it’s climb and the injection site is blooming red. I opt for a bedtime, earlier than usual.
It’s now Thursday and I’m scheduled for full body hyperthermia. I am summoned to the third floor for a precautionary blood thinning injection. As I walk back down the hall towards the stairwell, my eyes are starting to blur grey. I give myself a moment but there is no holding on to my plummeting blood pressure. The nurse escorts me back to the infusion room, reclining my chair so that my head is below my heart. She covers me with a heated blanket and leaves me to rest. After a time she revisits my blood pressure, it’s 80 over 50. The nightlong fever has rendered me dehydrated, so I get a setup of bottled water and a tall glass. Dr. Demuth gets word of my eventful morning and cancels the scheduled treatment. In no uncertain terms he prescribes water, rest, and more water for the remainder of the day.
The sun is out in full regalia which makes staying in all the more torturous. I have a splitting headache, my temperature is still on the rise, my blood pressure unimproved so, really, my bed actually looks inviting. I surrender.
Dr. Demuth checks in with me later in the day. Too much too soon is the thinking. He makes himself comfortable in my room and we enjoy a lengthy conversation. We bat around a few options, examining the pros and cons, in detail. He tweaks the treatment plan for next week, confident that we will find the sweet spot in the protocol. Our house call ends on a positive note with a hug and words of encouragement.
Friday’s agenda is fairly light. A high dose selenium infusion with take up most of my morning. The afternoon will be devoted to another round of magnetic field therapy and a reflexology message. I must say, it’s not a bad way to ease into the weekend.