As soon as I finished writing last week’s blog post, I knew I had to coil for Babesia. It’s funny how writing about my experience, as this blog is literally my journal of coiling, clarifies my thinking about what to do next. (This is why I tell everyone who asks me for advice that the most important thing is to keep records of whatever treatments they decide to use.)
This is not the first time I’ve resisted coiling for Babesia. I think that my early experience with Babesia and coiling was that once I got the infection into remission, it stayed in remission for eight months. The second time, it stayed in remission for 11 months. As a result, I’m reluctant to admit that it might flare up after recently treating it.
There is a big difference between the more recent, more frequent flares and the long periods of remission. I stayed in remission previously by keeping to a very strict diet, taking supplements, not pushing my body with exercise, and getting tons of rest, while I attempted to get the other infections under control. That was fine for where I was in my healing process. Now, as I get stronger, I intentionally push boundaries and trigger symptom flares from the Bartonella and Lyme infections, allowing me to dig deeper into their reserves and more fully rid myself of the infections.
Yet I maintain a blind spot for Babesia. To my thinking over the past year, Babesia, which requires a lot of daily coiling to get rid of the active infection, is a distraction from the coiling I need to do to get the Bartonella infection into its first remission. Thus, I procrastinate and postpone. I try to convince myself that the fatigue and brain fog is anything else, preferably Bartonella, and definitely not Babesia.
I’ve observed, time and again, that my weak link is eating eggs. That invariable triggers all three illnesses, yet each time, Babesia is slower to emerge and the symptoms are weakening. Thus, each time I trigger the infections with eggs, I try again to pretend that Babesia wasn’t triggered. And again, I discover that it was.
So, for the past six days, I’ve been treating Babesia, again.
I used to have a simple list of symptoms that were my clue that I was having a Babesia flare:
- light sensitivity which provoked
- daily blinding headaches in my eyes and forehead and migraines,
- a drop in blood pressure which led to
- cardiac symptoms, including palpitations, a strange sensation in my neck and mild chest pain
- as well as feeling out of breath
- and sometimes nausea from the low blood pressure.
The big clue was
- massive night sweats from which I woke up drenched and cold.
Even without these symptoms, I always do a coiling test-run for Babesia if I find myself
- tired enough to spend three days on the couch or in bed.
So to summarize: light sensitivity, headaches, cardiac symptoms, big night sweats, and bed-bound fatigue. The symptoms usually came together over the course of a week. I might resist coiling for a few days beyond that week, but I would come around and start to feel better after a day or two of coiling.
The symptoms have changed. I attribute this to either a lower load of Babesia microbes in my body, or a stronger body from having reduced the loads of Lyme and Bartonella bacteria. Or both. No matter what the reason, the symptoms are harder to recognize. Gone are the extreme headaches, light sensitivity, blood pressure changes, and cardiac symptoms. Instead, I’m left with fatigue that comes and goes, and light night sweats that are just like Bartonella night sweats. So how do I know when to coil for Babesia?
The clue this time was that I couldn’t stop thinking about how tired I felt. I could get up and do things, but all I could think about was how tired I felt. Constantly.
In the shower: “Wow, I feel tired. I wonder if I have time for a nap.”
While driving: “Boy, am I tired. How soon can I go home and rest?”
While coiling: “A series of 5 minute naps in between changing the position of the coil sounds like a great idea!”
While talking on the phone: “This conversation would be a lot more interesting if I were lying on the couch.”
While eating: “I’d better not eat too much. It’s hard to take a nap on a full stomach.”
While blogging: “Why did I write down so many notes? I want to be done already so I can rest.”
You get the point. I was too tired to go for walks or do yoga. I was getting noticeably sedentary, even for me. This was a big change from the progress I’d been making as I coiled the Bartonella infection, even after the sugar binge and egg trigger. I knew something was up.
When I talked to a fellow user of a coil machine, he offered me some other possible frequencies. When I thought about them, I knew that I should try coiling for Babesia before I start chasing other phantom infections. But it took writing about the fatigue last Monday to put the thought into action.
Last Monday night, I coiled my entire body for Babesia using 753Hz. I’ve finally come around to that frequency because I feel better with less herxing. In fact, there was no herx that night, but the next morning, I went for several hours without thinking about how tired I was.
Since it was a test run, I spent Tuesday coiling for Bartonella, my main project. When the fatigue returned, it was already 6pm, even though my energy had waned a little starting several hours earlier. At that point, I knew that I needed to incorporate Babesia coiling back into the week’s schedule.
On Wednesday, I split the full body Babesia protocol into the usual three sessions, giving me several shots to clean up my blood supply. I coiled at both 570Hz and 753Hz. I also split the CNS coiling protocol for Bartonella into three parts to allow me to finish it over the course of the day. After the first coiling session in the morning, I was downright energetic. After the second one, I had a typical, extreme, Babesia headache. It started in the front and triggered its own migraine. I decided some caffeine was in order, trying to prevent this headache from stretching on for days. An hour later the headache was gone. After the third coiling session in the evening, I had another one of these headaches. I went straight to bed and had a night sweat. But in the morning, I felt like I was back to normal.
On Thursday, I did the same routine: three sessions, both Babesia frequencies plus Bartonella. This time, no headache. Yay! Mild night sweat. No more fatigue thoughts or fatigue, until I wore myself out with too much activity.
The only problem on Thursday was that I woke up achy all over. So Friday, I switched up the coiling and just focused on Lyme. Now the aches and pains have died down.
Meanwhile, I’m having only very mild Bartonella herx symptoms: mild kidney pain, knee pain, neuropathy in my arms and hands when I wake up in the morning.
On Friday night, my first summer visitor arrived. We’re going camping tomorrow for a week. Then when she leaves, another guest arrives for a local festival. After that, I head to NYC to help my parents move to my sister’s neighborhood. It will be more than a month before I’m back home and resuming my full coiling program.
Yesterday (Saturday) and today, I’m coiling for Bartonella in the morning, spending the day with my friend, and coiling for Babesia (753Hz) in the evening. With any luck, this flare was so mild that I won’t have repercussions while I’m camping.
In some ways, it’s surprising that I’ve gotten this well that I can do so many things in a row. And in other ways, it’s frustrating that I haven’t gotten to the end of any of the infections. This is my life, with its limitations and its adventures. I’m glad to be living it.
Endnote: On Punctuation
As I reread this post, I discovered a lot of colons, many more than I usually employ. I attribute this phenomenon to reading Gulp by Mary Roach while coiling. It’s a great book for learning odd and wonderful and terrible bits and pieces of information about the human digestive tract. It also spends a lot of time on intestines, including, of course, the colon. Thus, the colon is on my mind and has found a creative means of expression.