This is a true story in my life right now, a confluence of circumstances involving hospitals and people in my community undergoing immense pressure and injustice in a compassionless industry with psychotic, tyrannical rules.
Let’s begin with my dear friend, and we’ll call her Durga (the feminine force of victory) because that’s who and what she is.
Durga, a gentle quiet soul, just had open heart surgery four weeks ago - for the second time. They almost denied her this process, even though her aorta was gone, out of order, the end. She had to fight, literally, for her right to life. Apparently, the hospital didn’t think her heart attack was a big thing.
Well, neither does the sports world, or the universities any more, but again i digress…
Then she got a doctor who was pompous and disdainful prior to surgery, and afterwards dismissive of her pain - agony rather - the severe spasms wracking her nervous system after having her body sliced down the midline in half.
Just spend a breath or two on that idea.
Axed straight down the center. All the way. It’s a big thing. Very big.
If this was a game of Survivor-Girl, i’d never make it through this.
But she did.
Using her own natural medicines, our visits, foods, and prayers; and by grace having the most wonderful husband who would do anything for her - and he did. But still, a traumatic saga unfolds. Durga is a sensitive soul. She feels life deeply.
Durga tells me the hospital vibe was a harsh, unconscious, overly lit and raucous environment where they poked and prodded her ceaselessly and never let her sleep. Now battling ongoing trauma from sleep deprivation, rough handling, disabling spasms, dismissal, and the doctor’s nasty pride, she feels a growing weight of unexpressed rage.
Perhaps you do too…?
Such is the heart. Sensitive, emotive, all knowing, with an enormous field.
Our heart is the most acutely tuned of all our three “brains”’; the heart’s bio-magnetic field hundreds of times stronger and more expansive than either the gut brain or the brain in our head. Instruments don’t exist yet that can measure the end point of the heart’s field.
And guess what?
All of our “brains” - head, heart, and gut, have their own nervous system and blood-brain barriers. Might it not seem vital to know and use this information now, to understand our symptoms and quell those angry reactions we have all the time now???…
Brain science - all dysfunction in cells, bodies, and societies is simple neurocience, but the powers that be will never tell you that.
I WILL!
But back to business here - the telling of psychotic tales. i’ll skip one long complicated medical story where my friend’s son almost died in a crash and had to be completely rebuilt, in favor of mentioning a third guy, whose story is quite common now, but that doesn’t remove the horror of it all. We’ll call him Devin here, and those involved in this story know his real name. Devin was a man of the land who lived on and care-took an urban-industrial farm when i met him. He generously hosted many events over the past two years when our community had no place else to go.
Somehow now he is imprisoned in a hospital with some rare autoimmune disease, on tubes and heavy medication, and only his birth parents may visit him at all. There is little to no news leaking out.
Even his lady friend has been barred and banned. With noone to advocate for him, we are really stuck and so is he. The evil institution gets to keep him hooked up til the end of time if that is what they decide to do.
Informed consent?
Then the corrupted system bills the patient for their own kidnapping and abuse!!!
This is dastardly fraud and not at all how good people run their world. You and i, we don’t have receptors for the violence streaming outside our doors and before our eyes…
Then there’s my latest song and dance: the trauma of finding a vet.
Who knew?
i got bunnies, two little baby girls, so i’ve begun to look for counsel and vet support should their needs ever exceed my mommy-scope. Excited to join the House Rabbits Society, garner resources, and begin learning, i called all the vets on their reference listing, one by one, from right near me to miles out.
Many don’t take new patients. No conversation there, case closed.
With the rest, who i’m grateful at least answer their phones, i was dragged through a labyrinthine maze of rules they’ve concocted to social distance everyone today and reasons why their care costs more.
This lecture includes : Arrive ten minutes early and phone them from your car. Someone will come out and get you, and you’ll be guided directly to your private treatment room…through secret underground tunnels so bring knee pads and a gas mask…blablablablabla, blablablabla; and if any grooming is needed, you’ll leave promptly and sit in your car; we’ll take them into the back and do the work.
Thankfully the phone hides the horror sweeping over me, my shrunken form huddled against the wall spurting unwelcome tears as i feel blasted into a sudden soul death; the world has gone absolutely mad! OMG my soul screams, to that great oneness that may or may not be up there - out there - looking over us and managing the script.
Patient report and follow up is by phone in the parking lot, then they bring out your “animals” in their carry bag. And you are required to wear a mask the whole time, even in your car. To keep everybody safe.
They really expect you to march in the army for your appointment, and after a slew of such phone calls, my last nerve cracked and there i was weeping on the floor at the existential psychosis that seems to be our new norm.
At the end of a slew of such diatribes with me politely thanking them and hanging up, there i found myself collapsed in a gushing rocking pool of tears on the floor.
Trying to find a bunny vet wiped my nervous system out!
It broke me with its repetitive pounding shock.
and i know this is happening to you now too - perhaps not over bunnies, but let’s go back to Durga and Devin, and where they are now, and how many of us watched our parents shot up with what some call Run-Death-Is Near when they only had a cold or cough, a drug that starts with r-e-m that promptly causes kidney shut down and death.
(i was about to digress again, oops…)
So i finish up the tissue box and revisit the few vets in our freedom community, humbly hoping. One treats bunnies and she’ll be back from Europe in a week. Trust. Patience. Love.
When i call later to check in on Durga, victorious woman warrior who survived being cut in half for a new aorta, she sounds strong.
i immediately collapse.
And as my story heaves forth in wracking sobs, Durga softly reflects “It’s tyrannical, abusive and psychotic what medicine has become. They shouldn’t torture us for seeking help!” …and on she goes with many sentiments that are exactly my own, in her own innocent and awakened words; and i catch the gems she speaks with my pen, and send the notes to her by email after we hang up, so she will write a guide book for others about healing power, lethal medicine, and standing ground.
Thank you dear Jet. You're always deeply in your heart too. Loved getting the update from "you all" too...
Dear YPH, you write from the heart (and in this case, about the heart!) ✨🙏🏾✨ My own heart goes out to your friend and to you for having to suffer in such ways. It’s inhumane how sick people are treated within our medical system. On a brighter note, I heard that “Devin” is doing much better today, and I am sure it is to do with TLC from his partner and love from his community ✨💛✨