If there were witchcraft: Remember the Ring?

Jonquils springing up in back yard
Smith River, California
Taken 2/5/07

Maybe it’s all just coincidence. Except I believe there are no such things as coincidences. I do have four plausible explanations for not feeling well the past couple of weeks. Any one of the four could be the reason behind my silence which I’ll explain as a feeling of headache and nausea any time I spent more than a few moments in front of the computer. It’s been so bad at times that I haven’t even felt like being out with the camera, so I’ve taken very few pictures since I’ve been back from the Russian River. And since I had no new pictures, and since I felt that no one really wanted to hear a diatribe about being sick, I haven’t been blogging. But now it’s time to get it out of my system, as it were.

Jeff Beebe is an excellent massage therapist. He even wears a t-shirt that says “Massage Therapist” and he approaches his work emphasizing the “therapy” part of the message. Just up the street from the Smith River house is the Wellness Center run by an acupuncturist and offering various wholistic health treatments. Jeff’s name is one of those found on the Center’s sign. I had considered scheduling a ninety-minute massage back in March, 2006, shortly after I arrived in Smith River, and I wish I had. I know from past experience that everything in my life goes better when I’m getting regular treatments. But one thing led to another and it was January 23^rd, 2007, when I had my first session with Jeff.

Now I think we can all agree that the past year has been a pretty stress-filled period for me. And I’m sure I don’t need to say how much damage stress can do to the human body, mind, soul. So when I lay down on Jeff’s table that Tuesday morning, my body was pretty stiff and knotted. Jeff worked on me for an hour and a half, then noted the various places he had triggered “events” (my word, not his)on my chart. Every time he noticed me jump, twitch, or otherwise respond to his manipulations, he’d ask if I was all right. Of course I was, but sometimes the deep muscle work really hit a point that made me feel like jumping off the table. If I hadn’t known how much my muscles needed to loosen up, I’d have been very upset.

You’ll remember, faithful readers, that on Friday, January 26^th, I made reservations for a three day weekend on the Russian River and then got to feeling so bad that I almost cancelled the trip.

So, Scenario Number One: The deep muscle work on Jeff’s table opened up my lymphatic system and got some of the toxins flowing out of my body—a toxic cleanse in other words. That can make you feel pretty miserable. You’ve got poisons traveling through your body and even though they’re working their way out, they still have the power to lay you low in the process. I’ve done enough work with nutraceuticals to recognize that fun process.

Same jonquils as above
Smith River, California
Taken 2/9/07

While on the mini-vacation, I felt better, but still had recurring flashes of the headache/nausea that, while mild, were enough to keep me close to the resort and make me question my plan to drive home on twisty, turny, up and down California Highway 1. I’ve written enough about the trip so that you know that everything turned out fine, and I got home safely Tuesday evening.

Wednesday morning, January 31^st, I had to have the car over to the nearest authorized Volvo Service Center in Medford Oregon, so up at the crack of dawn, pack up Gypsy and the camera equipment, including my new 400 mm fixed lens which had been delivered while I was driving home from the Russian River. Put on the leather jock which had also arrived in the mail while I was down south, and head off across the coastal mountains to the Rogue River Valley to get my leaks fixed—er, my car’s leaks fixed, that is. Having dropped the car off, and picked up a nice little C70 as a loaner, I met my friend Jim for breakfast, then did some serious shopping. First at Bach’s Camera Store, then Barnes and Noble, lunch at Red Robin, and I was filling a shopping cart at Office Depot when my cell phone rang. My car was done, and two hours earlier than expected. So instead of continuing on to Costco, I headed back to Southern Oregon Subaru Volvo Mitsubishi and traded cars (and more than a few bucks) to get the V70 back. For what I think is the first time since I’ve been taking the car to these folk, they didn’t have anything new to fix on a subsequent visit. After finishing my shopping with a trip to Costco, it was back on I-5 and US 199 to return home, a bit earlier than usual.

Thursday found me so wrung out from the previous two days of driving, that I spent the day recuperating. Friday and Saturday I was able to get my posts from San Francisco and the drive home up, but the wooziness was coming back in force. Sunday and Monday it was all I could do to get my financial work done on line. Just sitting at the computer caused the band to start tightening around my head and the nausea to begin creeping up my torso. The idea of sitting here for two hours editing photographs and writing a note, no matter how brief, just wasn’t in the cards.

Scenario Number Two: The stress of the past year has caused a change in the shape of my eyes and my prescription for corrective lenses (read glasses) is no longer doing the trick. This seems quite likely as the problems seem to manifest themselves most strongly when I’m staring at the computer screen. When I get back home I’m definitely going to have to go see Tom Ferguson, my optometrist for the past thirty years, and see if he can tell me what’s going on.

Magnetic Choker with green glass beads
Specially made for me by Joseph Smith
Pain B Gone Kiosk, Rogue Valley Mall
Medford, Oregon
Scanned 2/9/07

And while we’re at it, Scenario Number Three: Neither the massage session nor the glasses are behind this. Somehow in my non-existent social life, I picked up a bug and I’m just going through a prolonged cold/flu/virus type illness. I rarely get sick, and Lord knows I haven’t been around other people enough to pick up anything from them, but who knows the way of the evil viral infection?

Turning the Franklin Planner to Tuesday, February 6^th, there was another ninety-minute session with Jeff. I explained how I’d been feeling to him, and ran my three scenarios past him to get his input. He agreed that we had opened up some major blockages two weeks earlier, and the toxic cleanse option was quite possible. Lying face-down on the table, I could not find a comfortable position. My throat hurt no matter how I tried to position myself. Jeff had me lie on my back and spent at least a half hour working on my neck. Boy was it stiff. Still, as my friend Sandy used to say about her experiences at the hands of an Esalen Institute Rolfer, “It feels so good when she’s done.” Tuesday afternoon was spent mostly in bed, or lying back in the Barcalounger. No activity for this boy.

Wednesday, however, was another story. Carl had an MRI scheduled for noon at the Medford Open MRI, and his doctor was livid when he suggested he’d be driving over, so for the second Wednesday in a row, the Volvo, Gypsy and I made the 200+ mile round trip, this time ferrying Carl to his appointment. While in Medford, in addition to the obligatory stops at Costco and Barnes and Noble, (What no camera shop, no Southern Oregon Volvo?), I headed over to the Rogue Valley Mall while Carl was going through the machine. Jeff had suggested I pick up some crystals and told me about Siskiyou Artisans. With the sore throat now added to the headache and nausea, I wondered if my throat chakra (connected with communication don’t cha know) was blocked. Jeff had suggested that an aquamarine crystal would be helpful in clearing that particular chakra, and suggested that I pick up a couple of clear crystals for clearing negative energy from my back. Siskiyou Artisans had the crystals, and lots of other lovely things, including a Himalayan Natural Crystal Salt Candle Holder which I picked up to put some negative ions into the atmosphere at home.

Walking back through the mall, I stopped at the Pain B Gone kiosk run by the cute young guy (of course I did), checked out his selection of magnetic jewelry and ended up having him make me a choker with green glass beads mixed through the magnets. Anything to open up that throat chakra. By the time he finished assembling my choker and I drove back to the Open MRI, Carl had just finished and was waiting for his images. Back to Costco for those few items we’d forgotten in the morning, and home by mid-afternoon. Lots of rock on the road on 199 and I was grateful for the high clearance and skid plate on the Volvo.

Thursday I woke feeling like I might live and perhaps the dis-ease had cleared itself from my body, but no. There was still enough residual headache to keep me from spending any time on the computer. Lunch with Bear and Paul at the Bistro Gardens at Crescent City’s harbor. Good friends, good conversation, good food. Who could ask for more. And on the way into town, camera gear stowed on the passenger’s seat, I counted red pickups. Forty of them between Dr. Fine Bridge and the restaurant. Alas, by the time lunch was done, the rain had come in earnest and I just didn’t feel like exposing either myself or the D80 to the elements.

Whatever it is, I’m tired of it. I will not allow it to continue to plague me. One last possibility is Scenario Number 4: There is a mold or something similar in the house to which I am allergic. Note that I can travel and feel almost normal. It’s only sitting in this house that I feel off. But, believing as I do in the Law of Attraction, this is the last of the energy I will put into this headache and nausea. It does not serve me and it will disappear! I have spoken.

Thanks for putting up with my ranting on this issue. Tomorrow we’ll talk about something positive and good. Oh, and (to quote Anna Russell) “Remember the ring?” Well, yesterday morning, I went out to the garage to bring in the books I’d carried to Medford. There, big as life and twice as natural, was The Ring—sitting on a book on the back seat, minding its own business, oblivious to the fact that I’d torn the car apart looking for it. Who knows where objects go when they’re hiding from us. It’s now at home on my middle finger where it’s not as likely to fall off.