The Nervous Tic

My hands are tied.

There’s nothing I can say.

She’s a good mama and she knows what she’s doing.

She would never make the wrong choice for her baby.

No mama would.

These were my thoughts as I bit my tongue for days knowing my friend had her little girl in the hospital.

Here I was. Angry again. And powerless. I wonder if its linked to something inside of me. How can I channel this in a way that is healthy? In a way that doesn’t just seek to give advice when it has not been asked for? I want to protect those I love the most from well-meaning doctors and the nice people at the drug store without giving alert to the fear-based ego-defense built into people who still trust the system. It’s the system that’s failing. Not the people.

Vanderbilt doctors don’t know what’s wrong. They’re running all the tests. Eliminating all the possibilities, blood count by blood count. I remember what that’s like. I’ve been in those shoes.

Madi was in the hospital when she was almost 2. She had been throwing up for days and she could hardly move. She was dehydrated. Her little body was fighting it with a fever, but it was time for some emergency help. We checked her in.

As I was writing this, my facebook memories reminded me that this was 7 years ago, today.

I didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of the end of my faith in modern medicine.

The amount of information the doctors knew was so little. It astounded me. I wanted to trust them with everything I had. I needed them to know what was going on! How could they not know? They were the doctors! We were at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital for God’s sake.

And there was a McDonald’s there. And a Taco Bell. What the hell?!

The nurses made me feel awkward about bringing my own food for Madi. I just figured that avocado might help an impacted bowel more than processed, fried, packaged, frozen, then reheated-in-a-microwave-chicken nuggets, but ya know, I’m not a doctor. The whole experience was very strange and scary. It lasted almost a week and they never found what was wrong.

The people trying to help us were obsessed with finding a diagnosis. I began to feel sorry for them. They were scrambling to match some scientific name of a disease or illness with symptoms and tests so they could prescribe her something that would make it go away. This is all they do in med school. Shit, this place IS a med school, where they’re treating symptoms, not people. They’re playing doctor, not healing you.

My experience with Vanderbilt (combined with some birthing experiences and other doctors visits) left me dumbfounded as to who and what to trust. Like many mothers, I became an avid researcher at the University of Google. Say what you want about the Internet’s misinformation, but in this day and age, you can get much more informed online than from your doctor. I mean, if you have any critical thinking skills at all. I did eventually end up paying for an online Holistic Nutrition degree at The American College of Healthcare Sciences. But I didn’t need to do that. I could have learned all of that in this un-schooling world we’re living in for free.

Anyway, I texted my friend to see how it was going. Her daughter’s white blood cell count was low. A sign that her immune system needs HELP! After tons of blood taking and tests, they still didn’t know what was “wrong”. She’d been there for days. I could feel my blood boil and my heart try to break out its ribbed prison and save her from the corrupt system she’s trapped in. As basic protocol, they were throwing around the names of big diseases, to “eliminate the possibility of them”. As if you can say those words and not completely freak a mother out!

My mars energy took over. I sat down and got my foot out, ready to insert it in my mouth.

I called my friend.

In all of my research and practice in food as medicine, there is one miracle treatment that shines above everything else. It’s the McMama of them all. It treats absolutely everything. It’s cheap. It’s easy. It works very quickly. AND, The FDA has not made it illegal yet.

*Apple Cider Vinegar* #ftw

I can (and probably will) write an entire post (or 5) about what the ACV elixir is capable of, but for now I’m going to finish the story.

My friend was in tears. Her sweet little girl hadn’t pooped in 5 days. They wanted to give her a MiraLAX suppository. MiraLAX along with all of its “lax” cousins have been known to contribute to what the FDA calls “neuropsychiatric events”. These are issues with the central and peripheral nervous system, such as autism. Now when I say contribute, that doesn’t mean cause. However, the medical industry is laden in “contributors” so that nothing can be pinned as the “cause”. MiraLAX also affects the heart and the kidneys and can directly damage the gut, the very thing we were trying to nourish.

Soooo I smuggled in a whole bagful of supplements.

Being there was scary. It was like I was a teenager again, sneaking cigarettes. But these were vitamins and I was in a hospital. My friend had seen nurses listening in on patients through their cabinets that opened into the hallway. So we talked quietly because we were afraid that if they heard us talking about giving her natural whole food vitamins, probiotics, or elderberry syrup (to give her struggling immune system some natural assistance), we’d get in trouble.

What kind of crazy world are we living in?

Behind the backs of the professionals, my amazing friend gave her daughter 2 droppers of the elixir I brought. {ACV, honey, cinnamon, lemon, and alkaline water}

Thirty seconds later, she pooted.

Twenty minutes after that, she pooped.

To be continued…

**This is not actual medical advice. Don’t sue me when you get healed from Apple Cider Vinegar, cause I’m not a doctor***

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