You know how it is…you have a car, truck, scooter, red wagon – whatever – it’s 10 years old or older – it starts to ping out. It needs to be fixed.
First, this wire or cable that connected to this metal object that made this rod spin, flunks out. You get it fixed and think, cool, I’m good to go. Then it’s the rod itself or valves or gaskets that sputter, flutter and finally blows and you’re looking at some sort of halfway or major vehicle reset. You don’t want to trade it in and start in with new payments – there’s better things to do with $25K, that over time extends to $40K. So, you keep “fixing” it. Such a joy, right?
When one gets into their mid-forties and beyond with their personally designed model of mind and body they were assigned at birth – if it has yet to suffer any type of catastrophic failure of varying degrees – things start to change. Sadly, they start to wear. Even more sad, you might need some type of professional medical help for whatever fixes your body needs.
Like finding a good mechanic – finding a good doctor is akin to finding the truth in the modern era – next to impossible. Yeah – doctors wear white lab coats – they all had to study long hours, work grueling internships – all in preparation to someday meet YOU and make you better. They memorized a lot, right? They wear white lab coats. They’re mensa’s – all of them. Sure, they are – why not.
But just like the car mechanic with a week’s worth of grease on his overall’s and underneath his fingernails doesn’t equate to being able to perfectly diagnose your car’s “johnson rod” problem, let alone fix it so you don’t have to spend a couple of hundred to tow it back to him when it breaks down again a day later – the white lab coat doesn’t equate to knowledge that the choirs of angels might have when it comes to what’s breaking down in your heavenly designed body.
Like your car’s mysterious ping or rattle, you wake up one morning, cozy your way out of bed and all of sudden your next thought is – “what the hell was that?”
Searing pain running through whatever part of the body that never happened before nearly sends you down to the mat for the count. If you have a human partner, or even the furry ones, your shriek from instant and hellish pain will usually send them running for cover. The more empathetic ones might peer around the corner and sheepishly ask…”are you okay”? You look at them and wonder, if I tell them I’m fine and just stepped on Fido’s bone, or tell them I just had this god-awful, 5 second journey of pain into one of the rings of Hell, will they stick around or start searching for a newer model of me? It’s a crap-shoot.
Then – this “what the hell was that” thing starts happening with annoying regularity.
You start peering into the mirror with a bit more attention. Sagging this, crow lines of wrinkles that weren’t there yesterday, spider veins creeping along strange pathways, expanding cysts that only you know of, swollen glands that you weren’t aware you or others had, and you’re ready to scream “RESET”.
If not bent toward hypochondria, you avoid doctors at all costs. But inevitably, just as sure as there’s no place like home for the holidays for disagreements and hurt feelings, you have to start down the yellow brick road toward some sort of health reset. Mind you, this might not be your version of health, but the FDA guys and gals version of nirvana as attained by checking off a check-list of varied ailments they think you shouldn’t have, and those that you might have that aren’t on the list – well, they’re not too concerned about – so neither should you.
The medical person you think you can trust, you know, the one wearing the white lab coat, first orders blood tests. Recently, I gave up 5 precious vials of blood so that tests could be run to check for…”you name it”. 5 vials? What was this? – some clinic run by Vlad the Impaler (Dracula/Prince of Transylvania), (whose kin just happens to be Prince Charles, who once joked “Translyvania is in my blood”). All joking aside Charlie, we’re really not that surprised.
The results that came back were like trying to understand the subtle nuances and brilliant complexities of a Bach fugue, or, if you’re into the degenerate, why most politicians, media types and Hollywood actors and actresses are pond scum – there is no easy way to understand it all.
This was good…that was great…this was so-so. “Uh oh! This needs some attention!”
“What’s that?” you ask, not really wanting to know.
“You know, this “johnson rod” here in your body – tests show it’s in the “high” category. I’m afraid more tests are needed,” they say, checking off something or other on the check-list.
And what, please tell me Mr./Ms. person in a white lab coat, what might these tests be?
“Oh, not to worry,” they casually mumble. “An MRI of a gland, organ, piece of tissue buried deep inside you somewhere that needs to be checked out further is all that’s needed…for right now.”
Wonderful! An MRI! Lovely! I always wanted to spend an hour or more in a coffin, being told not to move, don’t breath irregularly, don’t let your appetite get the best of you, with the kind and soft-spoken technician asking – “by the way, what type of music might you like to listen to while you’re in the coffin”?
And that swollen cyst, gland or part of the body you vaguely knew you had that might need to be drained – not to worry, they’ll just stick a needle in there and drain the fluid.
Don’t worry, they say (because it’s not being done to them) – we just need a biopsy.
If you’re not completely brainwashed into thinking that Allopathic/Western medicine has ALL the answers, you start searching for alternatives to having vials of blood taken from you, along with more needles inserted into whatever the good doctor thinks they need to be inserted into in order to get that medical reset going.
Be prepared – if you go down this path – it can lead to heavy drinking.
I believe in the “natural way” to health, both acquiring it and once found, maintaining it. I believe in it probably more than most. Yet acquiring a sound base of knowledge in order to know the proper path to take to assist or coax your body back to where it should be takes time, dedication, research, more research and experimentation that most folks simply don’t want to be bothered with. Few seem to understand that once you get to a certain age – that it took years to get your body to the state of abuse it’s, more or less, accustomed to, and the magic cure of getting it back to where it was, if even attainable, will take some time to acquire. “Sad”, as the guy with orange hair might tweet. Living a life of medical ignorance will eventually catch us all. After all, it’s the only bodies we’re going to get and they’re worth all our investment to maintain.
So, if only I had been paying a bit more attention back in my twenties – ah yes, that always present “if only” for those of us who are a bit more seasoned. But it’s never too late to start, and for those of you still young – yes – God willing, you’ll get into your sixties too. It may seem like light years away, but in a blink of an eye – you’ll be here too. Prepare now – take care of your bodies and minds now, investigate natural approaches and alternatives to acquiring and maintaing good health. It will serve you well.
Tonights’ musical offering;
One of the most sparkling and splendid performances of “Der Rosenkavalier Suite” that I’ve ever listened to. Simply superb! The last 2 minutes are included below, in hopes that you’ll be enticed further to listen to the full 22 minute piece. As one of the commenters in the “comments” section notes – you’ll be transported to a different time and place – and it’s wonderful!
And as with all our listening here at the Asylum – full-screen activated, headphones on and volume cranked for full sensory enjoyment. You might even see a few of the gifted musicians smiling as they’re performing, which is always a grand indication to me that they were having a glorious time performing music for our benefit. As a patron at this concert yelled out at the end of the performance – BRAAA-VO! Indeed!
STRAUSS – “Der Rosenkavalier Suite” – Detroit Symphony Orchestra/Leonard Slatkin – Conductor
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