quantum physics and holistic medicine

I don’t have any stinkin’ answers about any stinkin’ thing.  I will, however, share what I find and you can do some pondering.

If you’ve been following the blog, you know that following my catastrophic personal perfect storm, my brain has taken a hit and I’ve had heretofore never-ever-ever-or-ever-experienced difficulties with reading, writing, and comprehension.

Deirdre, our resident Buddhist, no-worry lady and all-around well-adjusted person, has recommended several books to me.   I have listened and noted the titles, but until now have been unable to comprehend.  One of the books she recommended is The Biology of Belief, by Bruce Lipton, a cell biologist with seemingly radical leanings (oh no, not a radical!).

I’ve made it through about a third of the book and was stopped in my tracks this a.m. by the illustration on page 73.  Herewith:  think about it.  That is all.

page 73

The Biology of Belief


recycling debt and recirculating serotonin

Ed. note:  the writer appears to have had her last nerve gotten upon by the economic and medical machines.  You have been warned.


Refinancing car and house loans

We have just finished refinancing our car loan and are just about finished refinancing our house loan.   These are both very good things.  We’ve dropped our monthly output by about $500 (about £300, €390), which helps as my savings dwindles.  (Tons of “helping” programs out there now in mortgage-land because of the horrifying mortgage debacle that tanked our economy.  Yours, too.)

Yes, it’s true that I have not worked since January because of the near-dead thing, but too, the economy still thinks I’m too old to be valuable in the workplace.  I’m 55.  Bastards.  Hence the pursuit of Art as $$$.  (Art is still a much better fit for me as a way to earn money, so that’s just displeasure expressed on behalf of the other old folk who can’t get an interview, much less a dang job.)

Recycling debt

Where does this recycling debt come in?  Our banker (loosely called that since they don’t actually touch money and their storefront is a few desks tucked away in the ubiquitous giant grocery store chain)…

Aw hell, let me try again–Our banker reassured us that by refinancing our car loan while we’re smack in the middle of refinancing the house loan, we would not cause any ripples in said house loan re-fi.  She said:  “You both have excellent credit, and besides, you aren’t taking on new debt; you are recycling old debt.”

We’re green:  reuse and recycle.  Can’t think of a way to re-purpose.

(End of economic nerve-twanging.  Surprisingly short, huh?!)

Recirculating serotonin

I’m gonna keep this medical machine outrage short.  (Yeah, sure!!!!!  {pouting} Well, I’d like to!)

Simplistically stated, serotonin is a happy-chemical produced by our own brains to keep the mood stabilized and the sense of humor intact.  Some of us seem to have low levels of serotonin, which results in a not-happy state.  (Oooo, ooo, that’s me {waving arms wildly}!)

So, some years ago, my medical machine helped me back to the happy state by prescribing antidepressants, which were, I was told, going to boost my serotonin levels.  Side effects?  Schmide-effects!  What’s a seizure between friends?

Hold that thought.

Because of the, shall we say, intensity of the near-dead thing and the COMPLETE lack of medical support following same, I have at last come off the fence (pickets are pointy), and am returning to my former hippie-dippie, I’ll do it my own damn way, there are too alternatives (you money-sucking Bastards) Stubborn Self.

In removing myself from the antidepressants, I have been warned that I could experience a return to the not-happy state that existed prior to the ingestion of same.   Seems odd…

In doing some brief research yesterday to understand amino-acid therapy for stabilising mood, I learned why:  these miracle drugs (money-sucking Bastards) don’t actually boost the serotonin levels.  The drugs (wait for it!) recirculate the low levels we already have.

Couldn’t you medical-machine folks have told me this, as part of full disclosure?  Whywhywhy did you have to be all paternalistic ‘n’ sh!t and pat me on the head and leave out this detail?

Nothing for you to worry about, My Precious.  Trust me.  Whywhywhy did you not give me alternatives when I begged for them because I did not want to take these miracle drugs, but did not know where else to turn?    Whywhywhy were you all doom-and-gloom as you told me that this was the only answer?

what now?

Predictably, I am on a bit of a roller coaster ride.  Add this to my recovery, which is blatant about being long-lived, and is now showcasing my memory-forming dis-ability, and I’m sending Big Mister on vacation alone.  We were together sposta get in the old funky truck that hauls the old funky camper and go tootling off for a week.

I need a break from being observed in my throes of FFS, WTF????   Of having my lack of short-term memory reflected back to me…  Of being in multiple kinds of pain and seeing him worrying about me.

I need to do something for him, and I know it will make him happy to tootle around with no negotiation about going here or there….

No ladders while he’s gone.  I swear.  Yeah, sure.  I just wanna live my life and live it well and do pretty much whatthehell I want when I want.    A discussion of adult-onset dependence will occur someday.  Watch This Space.

This reminds me too keenly of a family-story my mother tells:  as a pre-reading toddler, I was out to dinner with my parents and my slightly-older reading-age brother.  The nice waiter thoughtfully handed me a menu along with the others.  My clearly-heartbroken response:  “But I can’t reeeeeeeeead!”

That’s me now.

it really would have cost much less to go to Italy! For 3 months!

In a previous post, I ranted and raved about wanting health care and not health insurance.  Thanks to this hospital, I got health care and am alive to be my own strange self!

I’m in a weird mood, so….

If I had insurance, the portion that the insurance company would have paid would still have left me hurting financially. The hospital may be writing off this cost–apparently, they’re doing that A LOT these days!

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