Cannabis

I've been reading about the healing power of the ancient and much maligned plant, cannabis. Cannabis should be considered sacred. Plant kingdom royalty. I've procured a tiny bit of some high grade THC oil. The oil is a potent healing agent. Today is the first day of continuous doses, three, half grain of rice sized oil sub lingual, three times a day. After four days the dose is doubled, and continually increased dosages until one gram is consumed in approximately 30 days.

I feel way more bodily sensitive. I'm aware. Feel almost on another plane. My body is super relaxed, when I feel like sleeping I do. It's very odd being this high and healing. I'm stoned. But I am tuned into all the healing the oil may be up to, there is nowhere in my body that will not benefit.

I already feel some reduction in the inflamed feeling in my chest, and an opening up. This new dilation of arteries and blood vessels improves my hypertension. Still coughing, but I think this will subside shortly. Still wake up at night, but think the oil will rectify this too. I'm very optimistic.

I thought I might feel a bit like McMurphy in "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest." I liked the image, but I didn't want to feel contained or crazy. I want to be the monk. The monk learning to free body and mind.

Self Mastery

Noon at Wilson Creek Beach. The ocean breezes have ended the temperature breaking heat wave. Glorious spring and summer, the best I've ever experienced. A perfect day. A good time to reflect. I was reading my journal about my efforts at cleansing and rejuvenation and yet here I sit facing the sun coughing up blood riddled, thick mucous.

I do have a disease where this is expected and perfectly natural for most, it's in the cards. But I have knowledge and a method that can partially eliminate my symptoms and elevate my state of well being. But for some reason known only to God's best friend, I am not applying the method. Partially because my breathing is out of control, but a short fast can tame that beast.

I know I'm not the only one on earth guilty of this. People constantly fantasize about being slim and fit if only they could stick to their diet and exercise. But the weight keeps piling on. Men and women all over the world addicted to nicotine try over and over to break their habit. Multitudes of people with good intentions fail in their efforts.

But this is my life and my life depends on change.

I was privileged to witness Daniel Northcott's stubborn battle with a rare form of incurable blood cancer. Family and friends rallied around and they tried a stream of alternative treatments. He died in the arms of his mother and sister. At Daniel's request his body was put on ice and he remained with his family for three days. The reason for this is to allow the etherical dimension to separate from the elemental or physical body. This is an esoteric practice that Daniel was aware of and his family honored his wishes. He also wanted his body to be wrapped in a shroud and buried in the ground near a forest. He was laid in an earthen grave sans coffin on Vancouver Island. The first man to receive a green burial in Canada's history.

Legendary photographer Bruce Webber beautifully captured the life and vitality of Heath Ledger. Two years after the photo was taken he too would be dead. Daniel and Heath were around the same age and I'm sure they would both do whatever it took to stay on this side of the dirt. I'm 62 and still on the living side of the dirt. And I'm beginning to understand why I fast and cleanse, then go back to my old ways.

Old habits die hard. Over indulging in good wine and rich food is a hard habit to kill. It's so sensuous to drink vino and devour a meal of tender meat and trimmings. Been doing it since I was a cave man, except in those days I worked my ass off for the meat and couldn't yet find grapes to ferment. So, I continue to flip from health nut to gourmet glutton. Why? Because I have not learned the high art of self mastery. I googled and found this: "Self mastery is the ability to make the most out of your physical, mental, and spiritual health. To be the best you can be."

Two words come to mind with mastery - discipline and control. If I wasn't in the latter stages of a progressive incurable disease I'd probably eat and drink my way to death's door. And that still is an option. But I've decided to learn some control and discipline over my habits and see if self mastery can improve my health.

I've learned over the years that quick turns in the road of life don't necessarily mean you stay on the road. So I'm taking a slow turn, not dashing into a water fast, but a gentler change that I can stick to. I'm eating only raw vegetables and fruits with some nuts. I still have the odd glass of wine, but only occasionally and never more than two.

I can feel some very subtle changes in the last few days, mucous seems to be less thick and not so dark with blood, cough is still present, but not as severe and my breathing at night is not as labored. I'm supplementing with hemp oil, CoQ10, Vitamin D, circumin and liquid magnesium with calcium. I'll cruise at this speed for awhile, then embark on a juice and water fast.

When my body eases I'll initiate the Buteyko breathing method and that is where the real elevation will begin. Stay tuned.

Power Hungry Cops

My train of thought about cops and power continues. A young cop in Vancouver went to the bar with two cop buddies and drank himself into oblivion. The intoxicated bully stumbles upon a gentleman delivering morning papers at 2 AM. For no reason he knees him in the gut and beats him. The man asks why he's being beaten and the off duty cop says, "Because you're under arrest." He wasn't under arrest. But the cop's statement implies that if he was he assumed the right to beat the shit of the poor guy.

The cop forces the innocent man to the pavement, put his boot on his back and calls his cop buddies at the bar for "backup." The other cops arrive. By now witnesses have gathered. Newly arrived cop yells at the man on the pavement, "Stay down or I will kill you!" Kill the guy for delivering newspapers. This cop is also off his rocker.

In court cop testifies that he has no recollection of the beating. How convenient. The cop was sentenced to 21 days house arrest and six months probation. The judge called him 'an upstanding young man.' How the fuck does he deserve the praise of 'upstanding?' The guy is a power hungry bully. He should have done time with some inmates who don't think so highly of cops. That would have been Solomon justice. The only reason this bullying and beating made it to court is because there were witnesses. Other wise the cops would had their way and relished the abuse of the power they crave. Similar scenes play out like this everywhere there are macho policemen drunk on power.

The Wise President And The Stupid Cop

The news of the last few days has been over flowing with the story of the cop, the professor and the president. I won't belabor the details, suffice it to say that in order to smooth the nation's ruffles the President invites a cop and the man he arrested to the White House for a cold beer.

My impression is the cop is an asshole. An ungrateful asshole to boot as he never mentions the honor that's been bestowed upon him. Cop arrests the professor in his own home for being exhausted and pissed off. Cop should have left the premises, end of story, no big news. But no, in a show of power he arrests the professor, who unbeknownst to the flat foot is a friend of the President's. At a press conference the President uses the word "stupidly" to describe the cop's actions. I agree with the President - the word suffices. But America being as polarized as it is, the story explodes on to the front pages, all corners of the Internet and every TV.

Two things stick out for me which are not being covered.

Number one. The cop arrested the professor because he is able to, he has the power. Cops enjoy wielding power. Thirty years ago I broke my arm. I had my arm in a sling under my jacket. A squad car pulls up and a cop asks me what's under my jacket. I show him my broken arm. He starts asking me a myriad of questions, I answer politely. I tell the cop it's my understanding that unless I'm being arrested I don't have to endure the interrogation. He gets out of the car, puts his nose in my face and says, "Would you like me to break your other arm!"

Cops use their power in excess constantly. That's the story. Or as Bill Maer said, this is about cops wanting John Q. Public to kiss their ass.

Number two. The media is a giant way out of control. Forty years ago the President of the United States may have used the word "stupidly" and the world wouldn't know or care a less about it. Not in our insane culture of 24/7 news. Case in point, Michael Jackson's personal cook was on the Larry King Show last night, she mentioned in passing that she now has a publicist.

Barack Obama has a lot on his plate. Our world is in a hell of a mess. Does he really need to have a beer with a disgruntled cop? Leave this man alone so he can preside, priority by priority. Because there's no one better on this planet for the job than Barack H. Obama.

A Leading Roll

I'm writing these posts for a few reasons.  Number one I like to write.  Number two they motivate me to stick to the program.  Number three, I hope I can inspire and offer hope to others who have COPD.  

I'm not writing to complain about my condition, to bitch and moan.  I writing and I'm rooting for the leading player in my life - ME.  I hope there will be a plot twist in the next few months.  I hope that by pushing different physical limits that the hero in this story will prevail, break some new ground, become stronger, and live with renewed vitality and vigor.  

In three paragraphs I've written the word 'hope' five times.  Without hope life can be damn depressing.   

Now For Something Completely Different

We humans are all creatures of habit.  We get into a pattern.  Our daily lives follow much the same form.  Rise roughly the same time every day, do our bathroom ritual, whatever private details that may include, in probably much the same order day after day.  Commute to work.  Starbucks.  Work.  Commute home.  Cocktails. Dinner.  Read.  Work.  Watch TV.  Bathroom routine.   Bed.  Make love with the spouse or lover - or not.  Sleep.  Dream.  Rise several hours later and do it all over again.  This is if you're lucky enough to be working and you're not mindless and living on the street.  Then your pattern is much closer to the pavement and  it's bare bones survival. 

If you're trying to break a habit, like quitting smoking, the resolve must be there, and it's easier if you break the life pattern too.  If you get up in the morning,  do the bathroom ritual, with a pack of cigarettes smiling at you next to the sink, or sit down to your usual breakfast, sipping the coffee and nearing the time you'd usually light up a smoke, chances are you probably will grab one, because the strong resolve you had last night has vanished this morning amidst your normal daily pattern.  

But, if you get up and immediately go to the gym without the coffee and breakfast pattern, you're out of your normal mode.  Your body reacts differently and your mind is occupied with other activities other than inhaling nicotine.  Now, if you can continue to break your daily pattern until sleep, you may just be on the path to finally becoming a non smoker.

So too in dealing with COPD.  Or perhaps better said, coping with COPD.  COPE with COPD. You have to break your pattern.  If you live your life like you always have, your breathless meanderings, from breakfast to lunch to dinner to bed, the disease will progress and eventually you will be dragging an oxygen tank around with you.  

I'm a classic example - A prime rib roast and garlic 'n butter mashed potatoes loving guy with a penchant for chilled buttery tasting Chardonnays stuck in a pattern.  The deeper I get into the pattern the worst my breathing becomes and  more disability is established.  A few years ago my meanderings were bearable and doable, I could get around, even tromped all over Moscow one winter.  But now, even getting around the house is a difficult journey.  As promised by Western medicine, my disease has progressed.  So, I can either accept the progression and wait for the inevitable, or I can change my pattern and halt the onslaught.  

I'm resisting the terminology "fighting for my life."  Or "battling the disease."   Sounds like a CNN broadcaster, "fighting the insurgency," winning the "war on terror."  I prefer the mind set or the disposition of intelligent inner healing.  Utilizing a new strategy on time, space, sound, and new action to bring about the desired result of better bodily functioning.  

http://www.imeem.com/groups/ov_dajXb/music/Z1UpiMFq/deva-premal-moola-mantra-incantation/

Step 1.  Eat very lightly for a couple of days, no meat, just maybe rice and some lightly steamed vegetable, lots of water.

Step 2.  Do a cleanse.  I chose the Wild Rose 12 day cleanse. This will clean out any toxins in the system and empty the upper and lower intestine.   

Step 3.  Simultaneously with the cleanse I'm drinking only herbal teas, diluted fruit juice, and broths.  That will give my body a rest from ingesting, digesting, and eliminating food, all of which takes over 60% of the body's energy.  Now the body is relieved of this normal daily function, it can turn it's wisdom to healing.   Step 4.  Begin to practice the Buteyko breathing method.  Google Dr. Buteyko.   Better yet work with a knowledgeable seasoned practitioner. 

I highly recommend Christopher Drake.  His practice is in Thailand, but he works beautifully on Skype.  It's like you're in the same room and is wisdom on breathing and physiology is, dare I say, breathtaking.  http://cpdrake.googlepages.com/christopherp.drake 

Very subtle changes are already beginning to occur.  A few days ago my feet and ankles were swollen, today they're not.  Why?  I'm not sure, less work for the liver and digestive system creates more blood flow to my extremities?  Could be.  Whatever the reason, I'm grateful.  

If we rate my morning cough on a scale of one to ten, the last few weeks have been ten, today it was seven and one half.   I still have lots of mucous, my energy is still low, but there are some positive changes that in all likelihood would not have happened had I still been in my meat and potatoes, Chardonnay rhythm.

So, the body is weak but the spirit is willing.  I used to say to my doctors as long as I can walk and make love I'll be fine.  Well... walking around ain't great, and if it wasn't for the nitric oxide opening up my blood vessels and capillaries I'd be hooped. 

Thank God for Dr. Konstantin Buteyko and Mr. Pfeizer, I'm still in the game.  Ernest Hemingway killed himself when he couldn't write or make love any more.  I think the famous blue pill would have saved him.  

I love the image in this post.  The guy looks tormented.  I image he used to be able to run like a friggin' horse, but now with his COPD he can barely walk.  Poor bastard.  I can relate.  

First The Bad News

I lost all the benefit I gained from the 28 day fast by going back to my old ways.  Steaks and wine in abundance do not work in this old body.  A heavy diet puts too much strain on my weakened system resulting in havoc and over breathing.  I last posted a month ago and it feels like I'm living in a different world.  

Returned to that dreaded place - breathless upon exertion.  And I’m waking up to the morning cough and holding in my intestines so the dam doesn’t burst again causing another hernia.  Must end this horrid morning ritual.  I’m eating only baby food today and tomorrow with lots of water.  Still having my morning coffee for its laxative value.  One bowel movement today. 

I have tons of clay-like mucous in my lungs.  I’m convinced once this is eliminated my cough will stop. 

Sunday May 11, day three I’ll begin diluted fruit juice and the Wild Rose cleanse.  I’ve been preaching the life style change now it’s time to take my own medicine and walk the walk.  I’m plenty good at the talk - now it’s time to take action.

Speaking of walking I want to wander the streets of Rome this fall, or St. Petersburg, some foreign city reeking with history.  I want to be able to stroll around effortlessly.

My Lindy Lou was in Paris for her 60th birthday.  Now that's the way to celebrate!  She emailed me and said she must have walked 100 miles one day. I thought how wonderful.  I want to do that.  

I couldn’t travel in the state I’m in.  So, this summer I must get my body into the physical condition where I can.  I just want the simple pleasure of walking.

I lay on the slant board for a while and expelled some mucous, had a dull pain in my chest, which seemed to be pressure from my breastbone, as it was alleviated when I stretched my arms over my head. 

Continued soreness and sensitivity near my hernia scar.  A few days ago it seemed another eruption might happen on the other side of my groin.   All this is caused by pressure from the coughing fit.  My first priority is to eliminate the cough.

As bad as I feel, I sometimes think these could be the good old days.  With my body starving for oxygen I’m ripe for cancer or a stroke.    I have three conditions to rectify or improve upon, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, COPD.  PAH Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension and tachycardia.   Whew!

My body is out of balance.  Back to the basics, water, oxygen, sunshine and movement. 

I’m drinking lots of water.  I’m hydrating which I normally neglect.  Monday day four I’ll begin my Buteyko breathing practice.  I’m going to stretch my body and I’m looking for a rebounder.  Jump for joy!   When my breathlessness eases up I’ll begin walking.  Spring is in the air.  I’m so looking forward to sitting in the sunshine. 

I feel a bit like I’m training for an athletic event.  And much of sporting performance is mental.  So I’m trying to get my head into the game.  Stay tuned.