Over the past few months, I’ve been itchy to stop taking antibiotics. The itch was both literal and figurative. One can take antibiotics for only so long before the gut microbiome gets out of whack and itching in the diaper zone begins. (That is for another post.) Figuratively, the itch to stop had to do with all the other things that antibiotics don’t do so well. All the time I was on antibiotics, I could never keep Babesia under control. Never. That meant that that at least a week or two a month I was dealing with the kind of fatigue that laid me flat on my back for several hours a day. As time went on, I started having food sensitivities again. All the while, I felt a little fuzzy headed and had an aversion to using the computer. In other words, on antibiotics, I always felt sick.
Having said all that, the antibiotics, at a high financial cost, did eventually get me better than I was when I started them in the throes of a relapse. It took longer than coiling would have to get me on my feet, and it cost a lot more. It also only got me almost as well.
Tether 1: The Antibiotic Myth
Unfortunately, I had this idea in my head that if I had taken the right combination of antibiotics for long enough the first time around (10 years ago), I would have regained my ability to function on a daily basis. I have met several people who went back to full-time work using antibiotics as their primary treatment. I have not yet been well enough to do even part-time work. I can pull myself together for a few days of activity, but I pay for it afterwards with days of incapacitating illness. So I really wanted to know if I did it right with the antibiotics, whether I could get to a place where all the infections were in remission (even if I had to continue to take low-level antibiotics indefinitely to keep them that way). I was attached to this idea and nothing was really going to stop me from pursuing it.
The fact that it didn’t work that way I hoped was useful information, albeit for the price of thousands of dollars. I’m no longer tethered to the idea that there is a right way to make antibiotics work to cure Lyme. Having said that, I would, under no circumstances, restrict anyone with a tick-borne illness from access to long-term antibiotics. While I was on them, I was much better than I was with no treatment or ineffective treatment (Alfons Ven remedies). I was able to do more as time passed, as long as I switched the antibiotic combination every 4 months when the infections became resistant to a given antibiotic. Interestingly, I only used three combinations because the first one was effective again when I had stopped taking it for 8 months.
There are major benefits to being off long-term antibiotics for all three tick-borne infections. The biggest one is for my digestive tract. I can eat without feeling sick. I can use the bathroom without needing a firehose to deal with the burning of dysbiosis. I have more control over how much to treat and which infections to target. And, frankly, even though it is taking a while to get the Babesia into remission, I know it is possible because I’ve done it before.
Tether 2: Purity of Treatment
There is another idea that I am no longer attached to: purity. When I coiled, I thought I shouldn’t do anything to interfere with the way the coil machine killed the infections. I was very concerned all the time to let the infections “wake up” and release themselves from the cysts and other dormant states that cannot be killed by electromagnetic radiation. I reduced my supplement intake to only what was needed to help clear the herx reactions and to keep my reproductive hormones in a functional zone. I went so far as to modify my diet to trigger the infections, hoping to kill them off when they were active. (That didn’t work out quite as well as I hoped.)
Meanwhile, when I was taking the Alfons Ven remedies, I didn’t want to use the coil machine. I wanted to see if they could wipe out the last remnants of the infections. That didn’t work out at all.
When I started taking antibiotics, I desperately wanted them to be enough, along with the score of supplements I was required to take each day. Over time, I realized that I still had to coil to prevent the infections from gaining ground. There was no way around it.
That’s when I realized that I have every reason to do whatever it takes to have a reasonable life, rather than going for a pure treatment modality. No single treatment works perfectly. Some combination work better than others, some cancel each other out. I am working now on determining which modalities to use to get to the point that I’m no longer having relapses.
Tether 3: The Treatment Itself
When I was taking intravenous antibiotics, it took up several hours of my day. Some drugs had to be hung from something above my head (in my case, a nail on the wall), while I sat still and waited for time to pass. During the months of that kind of treatment, I watched tv and movies (on the days when light sensitivity wasn’t an issue) or read or talked on the phone. I was literally tethered to the drugs.
Once I switched to oral antibiotics, my schedule felt free and wide open. Wow. I didn’t have to sit still at appointed times during the day to be able to finish the huge number of drugs each day. I could get up late sometimes or take a nap in the afternoon. The only thing I had to be very careful about was taking the drugs and consuming food within a tight schedule. Some pills went with food. Some without. Some conflicted with each other and had to be taken 2 or more hours apart. The eating and medication schedule was complex and rigid. But it was much less confining than being attached to the wall 8 hours a day.
My new tether is the coil machine. As much as I’ve missed its results, I didn’t miss the three hours a day I spent using the machine. Once again, I’m unable to do anything other than read while I move the coil to various parts of my body while timing between 1 and 10 minutes on each body part. The only thing I can really do is read. Three hours a day of reading is nothing to scoff at. I missed reading when I was on oral antibiotics because I always felt there was something else I was supposed to be doing. I also feel cramped in my schedule again. I get up early to coil. I stop my activities midday to coil. I coil for an hour before I go to bed. I’d like to reach a point (maybe by the end of this year?) where I need to coil for only an hour a day in the morning.
For now, however, I’m coiling for Babesia 3 times a day, while also sneaking in Bartonella and Lyme some days to prevent them from becoming more active. I’ve also added in a frequency for Haemophilus influenza (542 Hz) in the hopes that I can get rid of what feels like a permanent case of bronchitis.
How do I get from 3 times a day to once a day? At some point, the Babesia infection will go into remission, hopefully not waking up again before September. Then I will go back to the Bartonella infection, another one on which I make the most progress when treating it 3 times a day. If I can finally put the Bartonella infection into remission, then I can move onto the opportunistic infections, which, hopefully don’t grow as fast and can be treated in one sitting a day.
This brings me back to Haemophilus. How do I even know I have it? I don’t. I have a list of frequencies I picked up along the way, infections that many or most people have been exposed to. These infections are opportunistic, only causing symptoms by growing out of control in altered immune system environments. As the tick-borne illnesses go into remission, there is a theory that the immune system goes through stages to get it back to normal. Case in point, when I felt really ill with all the other physical problems (neuralgias, digestive dysfunction, headaches, arthritis, cardiac pain, etc.) my respiratory tract was clear. But when I start to feel fewer of those symptoms, the bronchial irritation comes back.
I’ve wondered for a long time what frequency would treat the bronchitis. I tried some of the other frequencies on the list. This time around, I read about haemophilus species, specifically that they grow on mucosal lining, such as the digestive and respiratory tracts. I gave it a try on my chest. My bronchitis got much worse within 10 minutes of coiling and I got a headache. The next day, my feces turned to mush. I had a reaction. I tried it again. This time no headache, but coughing followed by an absence of bronchial irritation for 12 hours. This seems to be the right frequency. I’ve started coiling my head (for the sinus and oral cavities), my chest, and my abdomen. The headaches start within 15 minutes of coiling, and the loose bowel portion of the herxes happens the morning after each time I use the frequency. I’d like to use it once or twice daily, in the hopes of wiping out the active infection quickly. I’m tired of bronchitis, having experienced it on and off since 2014, and daily since May 2017.
Little by little, I am removing the tethers of incorrect beliefs. However, I wonder if my new attitudes are a tether of their own. I am assuming I will have to do some kind of treatment, daily or intermittently, for the rest of my life…unless someone comes up with an actual cure for Lyme Disease and the other tick-borne illnesses I carry.
For now, I’m tethered to my coil machine. I’m catching up on two years of books (that I kept buying even though I wasn’t reading as much). And I continue to make things for the people I love, like this birthday fairy for my niece.
Categories: healing process