Turtle Magic

My days are brimming. I am compelled to write today lest I loose accurate memory of the (intellectual and sensory) essence of my experiences thus far this week. It is only Tuesday, right???

My treatment week actually started on Sunday morning, as I am embarking on a 5-day fast, as an adjunct therapy. A one-liter saline solution cocktail doubled as breakfast. It wasn’t as strong a taste as ocean water. As one might imagine, it was absolutely necessary to remain in my room for the next 3 hours while my intestines acclimated to the brine. Once it was safe to move from the bathroom to my bedroom, I enjoyed a warm liver compress. I administered this treatment myself. First, an application of essential oil to the skin, on the right side just under the rib cage. The oil selected for me was a mix of almond oil, spruce needle, immortelle (Helicrysum), and lavender. Helicrysum is a member of the daisy/sunflower family. It is revered for it’s anti-inflammatory and anti-cancer properties. It also provides support in releasing emotional trauma and acts as a tool to help reconnect with the spiritual realm. While the origins of the name Immortelle are not well documented, it may refer to the long life of the cut flowers or the powerful anti-aging properties of these sacred yellow blossoms. Next, I placed a warm wash cloth on my oiled skin, followed by a heating pad, then a gauze wrap and finally, a bath sheet. A 30-minute nap concluded the ritual.

Lunch was served in a lovey hurricane-style, bringing a tropical feel to my afternoon. The elegant footed design proved to be a lovely way to enjoy my vegetable juice cocktail. It was predominantly carrot combined with enough other vegetables to thin it out and cut the sweetness.

After lunch a long meander through the park was in order and I welcomed the fresh air, albeit crisp. I returned to the clinic three hours later, anticipating my evening meal.

Dinner provided a welcomed warmth. It was a clear broth with a savory flavor. I was more chilled than I realized and soup was the perfect antidote. I lingered over it trying to discern it’s ingredients. With no solids as hints, I was playing a game that was hard to win olfactorily. No one flavor stood out which, by definition, meant it was a perfectly balanced dish. My curiosity forced surrender and I asked the kitchen staff to provide me with the recipe. (To date, I haven’t received it; I’ll have to report back.)

Kneipp treatment (hydrotherapy) heralded in my week-proper, as per usual. It continues to be strangely pleasant and certainly invigorating. The fast includes no breakfast. However, a delightful variety of herbal teas are at hand and they prove to be quite satisfying. Mineral water, in copious amounts, is consumed throughout the day, leaving little room for hunger.

Monday’s infusion was a cocktail of thymus peptides. The thymus gland serves an important purpose in regulating the immune system and without it we would. have no mean means of an effective immunological defense. The system is complex and highly organized consisting of different types of immune cells responsible for destroying pathogens and abnormal cells …like cancerous ones. There are often multiple assaults on the immune system before it fails to control cancer, exposure to environmental toxins, mental distress and prolonged physical stress, to name a few. Intravenous thymus peptides are aimed at strengthening the immune system and thus enhancing the defense reactions of the body. A liquid lunch followed the treatment. Monday’s juice was key lime green. My guess is that it contained no key limes (although I think they would have added nicely to the mix.) Primarily celery, but again, with additional vegetables that I could not discern. There may have been a spritz of fruit, as there was a citrus hint to my first sip.

The afternoon kept to my predictable routine including, reflexology, magnetic field therapy and local hyperthermia. They are all passive therapies, so therapeutic and also, relaxing. The therapies lasted until dinner time. The soup was the same recipe (the one I still don’t have) as Sunday and equally satisfying and delicious.

Kneipp treatment is my standing 07:10 daily appointment, and so, Tuesday began. Following treatment, I stopped in the dining hall to collect a few more tea sachets to replenish my room’s supply. The tea offerings are complex combinations of flowers, herbs, and spices, all of which are deliberate, purposeful, medicinal. One is lovelier than the next and all are delicious. The mint-forward varieties provide a lift in the morning, the spicier medleys contribute warmth, and the floral potpourris are a soothing end to my day. I’m doubling down on the mint at this juncture. As there is no breakfast for the next few days, my massage was scheduled early. Today’s variety was a suction message. It focused on my lower and upper back and my neck. It begins with a deep, hands-on kneading of my muscles. Next, the physical therapist solicits accompaniment from the Pneumatron (an action-figure, of sorts.) The device works by producing intermittent suction to the skin. During the procedure, the tissue is pulled in by a stretching impulse, using small, rubber, dome-shaped cups with thick rims (think…sucking fish lips), after which the device goes back into the relaxation phase. In this way the tissue is put into motion and vibration, both critically important to the health of the lymph system.

My next stop was Dr. A. Demuth’s office for some information exchange and discussion of my treatment plan and progress. He is a joy to talk with, always welcoming and optimistic. He is joining me for the fast, in part, because I am the first patient at the clinic to combine fasting with my cancer treatment. The fasting program at Hufeland is one year new. It has been a real boon for the clinic during these Covid-crazy times. It is offered only in German and participants come from every corner of the country. The fasting group, as they are referred to, stays in designated areas in the building, separated from the patient population. It’s success is inspiring an offering in English in the next year. In the meantime, Andreas is my fasting buddy. It gives us one more level of connection and our conversations are always a lively exchange of ideas (exactly what a doctor/patient relationship should be.) Without further ado, I was off to another wing of the building and a new treatment adventure.

The architecture of the clinic is quite modern. You enter the building into an atrium. You must then ascend a flight of stairs, furnished with a cable and teak handrail, to the main vestibule. When you reach the landing, a manufactured pond, complete with vibrantly colored Koi and a gentle water fall, awaits. Plants abound, complimenting the green furniture that is sleek in design.

To get to my destination I must walk through this main lobby in a breezeway that connects to an older building, I’m guessing circa 1800’s. It’s been refurbished, of course, but not by much. The walls remain stone, as do the floors. It’s cold by comparison to the clinic proper. This building houses a quaint chapel and the offices of the psychotherapists’. I am visiting with the art therapist for clayfield therapy. This is a modality that uses clay to bring about shifts and healing from issues and patterns that cause blocks and imbalances in both body and being. It is believed that all our past experiences, especially those that involve touching and being touched are stored in the memory of our hands. By coming into contact wit the clay, we use the sense of touch to access those memories and bring about healing. Her room is cozy, painted in pastel blue, with a chair for her and one for me. In front of my chair is a rectangular wooden box that holds about 15kg of clay and is approximately 10 centimeters deep. A bowl of water is also supplied. Through touching, digging, kneading…my personal story is revealed. The simple setting offers a symbolic “world” for my hands to explore, help me tell my story, and eventually bring resolve.

I start slowly, barely dipping two fingers into the water bowl. I smooth the clay with damp pointer, then ring finger, then full palm. Closing my eyes, my fingers press more deeply and I push the clay away from me, creating wavelike shapes. I follow that image and soon the clay box is surging and swelling. The therapist and I converse, her in broken English, me in bastardized German. Nevertheless, we are in total communication. As if a marionette, my hands begin to manipulate the clay forming what looks remarkably like a turtle. So off I go…I let my fingers shape a noble shell, acceptable facsimile of a head, solid feet, and precious tail. We dialogue about the symbolism enthusiastically and in agreement. When the session was over, the therapist showed me a book that she thought I would enjoy (if only it were in English.) It was a compilation of Shamanic descriptions and interpretations of Spirit animals. I knew I had a Spirit animal as guide, we just hadn’t been introduced…until maybe, now.

Another round of juice was on the lunch menu. It was again orange in color, but not carrot in taste. My best guess is beet, papaya, and yellow carrot.

My final treatment of the day was acupuncture. This was not on my weekly “Patientplan” calendar. It resulted from my conversation with Dr. Demuth earlier today. After some discussion, he picked up the phone and called his colleague to check on availability. There was an opening and just like that, I was in (it pays to be in the care of the chief physician!) The acupuncturist is skillful with a gentle touch. It’s a relaxing 30 minutes and I find it an ideal adjunct to my therapeutic program. We schedule another session for Thursday.

One of the many things I enjoy about my doctor, is his willingness to adapt my treatment plan from day to day, from conversation to conversation. My wellness is his priority and we enjoy an equal measure of determination and positivity. I end the day feeling cared for and protected both by he and Turtle.