Ever since I had a consultation with a person who specializes in essential oils, I’ve been thinking about my intestines. Of course, it came right after a colonoscopy…which forced me to think about my intestines as I watched them on the screen.
According to the results of colonoscopy the interior lining of my intestines are in good shape. According to the Zyto-scan that the essential oils person did with me, my microbiome is in equally good shape. I feel more sure of the first result, as seeing is believing. The second result is one that fits with my experience, which is that my intestines are in much better shape than they were earlier in this long-term attempt at healing my body, as long as I keep supplying them from time to time with probiotic foods.
But the interior lining and the microbial colonies that live along it are only a small portion of my intestines. The gastroenterologist made a comment that my intestines are very “wiggly.” (Technical term?) Apparently this not only makes it harder to maneuver the flexible scope tube to reach all the way to the appendix, but it can also generate constipation. I’ve interpreted “wiggly” to mean that my intestinal musculature is very active, not just in peristalsis but in other more random motions as well. This is not news.
About 12 years ago, I had to get a pelvic ultra-sound to diagnose a cyst on one of my ovaries. The radiologist commented that my intestines, which appeared at the periphery of the image, were more active than any other intestines she’d seen. This is one of my ongoing issues.
In the recent past, I’ve come to the conclusion that the Bartonella infection is behind the excessive movement. Beyond the lining of the colon and the muscles which keep nutrients and waste moving towards the exit, the digestive tract contains a huge concentration of autonomic nerves. Those nerves are the ones that seem most strongly affected by the Bartonella infection, and in a way that helps me keep track of progress, by the Bartonella herxes.
The question is whether getting rid of the infection is enough to heal my intestines. Do I also have to do something extra to help heal the entire collection of intestinal organs? I don’t yet know the answer. For now, I’m trying a much lower dose of the essential oils, which are a mixture of a variety of oils, but primarily black pepper essential oil. As I’ve read about it, one of its primary healing properties has to do with the intestines. It hasn’t helped yet. But I’m willing to wait.
By comparison, I’ve come to the conclusion that the traditional Chinese herbs I took in January for my kidneys has helped them heal significantly. Now, several months later, my kidneys are much slower to become painfully irritated, and the pain level remains much lower. Beyond coiling, I needed to do something to assist their healing process. I remain open to the possibility that my intestines will need help as well.
After a rough start with the essential oil mixture, I’ve discovered that a little bit is plenty. My first dose involved covering the soles of my feet with the oil. It was WAY TOO MUCH. I had side effects: I was jacked up and couldn’t sleep. It was like drinking three cans of cola before bed. In fact, I think it took close to three days for the feeling of overstimulation to finally dissipate.
I’ve reduced and reduced the dose until I now put the oil on a little spot near each elbow, on a large intestines acupuncture point. No more side effects. Instead of wired, I’m very tired. (More on that below…) If anything, my intestines have been all over the place with cramps, gas, diarrhea, constipation and random pains. If I could attribute this to the essential oil, I would say that it is shaking up the status quo. Of course, I’m not sure this is all from the essential oil, it could be from coiling after my sugar binge.
Ever since the sugar binge, I haven’t wanted to coil. That doesn’t stop me from coiling at least twice a day. Yet I find myself wanting to do anything other than coiling. In practice, this means that once I stopped coiling the rest of my body for Bartonella, and instead focused on my central nervous system, I’ve only been coiling twice a day.
There is a problem with coiling for Bartonella twice a day, a lesson I learned earlier this year: it makes me very tired. The symptoms of the herx slowly build up (constipation, fatigue, bladder hesitation, tingling in my limbs, pain in my right shoulder, etc.) but don’t go away. To get over the hump, I need to coil for Bartonella three times a day for several days. So I finally sucked it up and prioritized the third coiling session. The only thing that worries me is that I’ll trigger the daily migraines…again.
There is another piece here. One possibility is that the fatigue is from a Babesia flare, belatedly appearing after consuming baked goods with eggs in them. I’m still procrastinating from doing a one-day test of Babesia coiling. I’m not sure why…blame my general reluctance to coiling!
Fatigue and Feeling Bad
I’ve just been so tired. I’m dragging myself around the house. I’m unable to decide what to do. I’m up and around and walking in circles. The fatigue gives me a light dose of brain fog. It’s making me nuts.
If I could just be decisive, I would probably feel better with a nap. I even managed to take one yesterday, and I felt extremely refreshed. Only, the nap started at 5 pm and was 2 hours long. This meant I had a very hard time going to sleep at bedtime. I missed my nap window today. So with any luck, I’ll be in bed by 9:30 tonight.
Along with the fatigue, I’ve been walking around apologizing for everything. My husband seems amused because I’m finding fault with myself over every little thing that isn’t even wrong. As I start to come out of this state, I remember that Bartonella herxes make me feel bad about myself. Often I experience it as hopelessness. But this is another familiar flavor of feeling bad, with the spotlight on my behavior rather than my future.
A few days ago, I spoke to one of my coiling buddies. He suggested I try several other frequencies for nanobacteria. When I read about these online, it makes me feel like I’m even further off the map than coiling already is. Needless to say, I haven’t tried one of these frequencies yet. (Reluctance to coiling?)
I have two competing thoughts about trying out all these other recommended frequencies. On one hand, I sometimes feel absolutely sure I have another infection, one I haven’t identified yet. On the other hand, I think that if I really got rid of all the Bartonella symptoms (as a result of killing off the infection or putting it in remission), my body could suppress any and all opportunistic infections. It’s that simple.
The question is: what happens if all the symptoms of Bartonella go away except for fatigue? If every last neuropathy and dysautonomia symptom was gone, gone, gone, and I was still tired for extended times, then I would know there was another infection. Then I would go through the coiling frequencies I’ve picked up over the years to try against the leftover symptoms.
I have immense faith in my immune system and my body’s ability to heal. As long as the chronic infections are no longer an ongoing stress, I think my body can get back to a state of health.
This random, ugly spot appeared on my hand yesterday.
As I stare at it, I’m reminded of two flea bites I had in China in 2007, specifically in the little city of Jinghong. The city was fun. Most of my memories there are from a night market with the most fabulous purple rice served inside a pineapple and of dancing on a street corner listening to a record player with people who gather for nightly exercise.
But when I got back from China and my body fell apart, one of the things I was worried about was the two little flea bites that I got at the first motel we stayed in. We moved the next day because it was so bad. Now that I’ve read up on Bartonella, I know that it’s possible to get one of the species of Bartonella from flea bites. I have no idea if that happened, especially since I had what are probably Bartonella symptoms that predate even the Lyme symptoms.
This little bite is a reminder that vectors (insects, arachnids, etc.) are all around us.