Free to shine
Shiny & Free
Thanks for telling your stories, Kevin and Neo. I can't remember what I have told of mine, and I'm not searching all my posts!
I do think these events are wake-up calls in life, and if we are prepared to listen and observe, they can be life changing.
I didn't experience a coma, or life threatening cancer or heart attack. Mine was a still as yet indefinable inflammatory arthritis that destroyed my joints at an incredible rate. It started fairly slowly, in a knee and progressed within 6 months to hips, knees, ankles, wrists, neck, elbows, jaw, and to every major joint except my shoulders, within a year. I lost a great deal of weight, could not eat, could not walk and knew I was dying. Who the hell dies of arthritis? Endless specialists had no idea how to stop it or what to do, until I finally found one that did.
He told me I needed both hips replaced as a start, as both legs had turned and I could not walk. Then he said he would figure out how to stop the disease, (and he eventually did, for a while). I decided to trust him, he actually cared. During this period I was trying to run a new scn school and experiencing the worst kind of betrayal you can imagine, so trust itself could have been an underlying issue. I was abandoned by scientology as PTS, and by all of my 'friends' except one.
During the recovery from the first hip replacement I was either overdosed or reacted to morphine. I was sure I was going to die and it terrified me. Having gone into the surgery already at peace with the possibility, to come through that and then face the prospect again was a real shock. It would have been so easy to go, to give in, but I didn't. I had the 2nd op a few months later and because of the reaction, could not have morphine. So this time it was worse. The painkillers didn't work - and a hip replacement is basically like having your leg cut off, the bone is cut away through a giant incision and the metal parts hammered into place. To be graphic.
This time I really thought I would die from the pain. I was going, I didn't care about anyone or anything but escape. Then I had my weird experience of someone telling me that it wasn't time, that I could do this and it would be OK. The voice was like a gossamer whisp, full of love and confidence. So I relaxed and stopped fighting the pain. I went unconscious for a long time, or so it seemed, and when I woke I knew it would be alright. I made an amazing recovery, and as Kevin did, I danced before I could walk.
This kind of experience is where you are stripped back to the basics of who you are. You need to trust your medical carers to do their best, you need to trust in your own ability to survive and then later look at the circumstances that led to being in that position without blaming yourself.
That was about 19 years ago and it took a lot of medical experimentation to put the disease into remission, and a lot of rehab, and I had a pretty normal life until a few years ago when the drugs had to be stopped and the deterioration started again, though at a much slower rate. And one of the hips wore out and had to be replaced again. Being unable some days to even pick up a cup, let alone walk, has had a profound effect on my thinking. I have learnt a great deal about "not resisting" and banging one's head against a brick wall type activity. I have more patience, and because I have been forced to be STILL more often, more time to observe. When life is stripped back to it's basics, and the endless RUSH of scientology thinking is slowed, you can actually smell the roses!
I wish I could say that all is well, but often it isn't. This has been one of the hardest parts of my recovery from scientology - the attitude that I pulled it in, that I am doing something wrong, and yes in the early days - that it was because I walked away from my "bridge". (Not that I had much choice about that as I was unacceptable as a PC.)
I decided that if I couldn't get around and live a 'normal' life, then I would use what I can...my head and hands. I create and I write. It may not be what I envisioned my life to be, yet I have found great peace at times.
Yeah, it's about attitude.
I do think these events are wake-up calls in life, and if we are prepared to listen and observe, they can be life changing.
I didn't experience a coma, or life threatening cancer or heart attack. Mine was a still as yet indefinable inflammatory arthritis that destroyed my joints at an incredible rate. It started fairly slowly, in a knee and progressed within 6 months to hips, knees, ankles, wrists, neck, elbows, jaw, and to every major joint except my shoulders, within a year. I lost a great deal of weight, could not eat, could not walk and knew I was dying. Who the hell dies of arthritis? Endless specialists had no idea how to stop it or what to do, until I finally found one that did.
He told me I needed both hips replaced as a start, as both legs had turned and I could not walk. Then he said he would figure out how to stop the disease, (and he eventually did, for a while). I decided to trust him, he actually cared. During this period I was trying to run a new scn school and experiencing the worst kind of betrayal you can imagine, so trust itself could have been an underlying issue. I was abandoned by scientology as PTS, and by all of my 'friends' except one.
During the recovery from the first hip replacement I was either overdosed or reacted to morphine. I was sure I was going to die and it terrified me. Having gone into the surgery already at peace with the possibility, to come through that and then face the prospect again was a real shock. It would have been so easy to go, to give in, but I didn't. I had the 2nd op a few months later and because of the reaction, could not have morphine. So this time it was worse. The painkillers didn't work - and a hip replacement is basically like having your leg cut off, the bone is cut away through a giant incision and the metal parts hammered into place. To be graphic.
This time I really thought I would die from the pain. I was going, I didn't care about anyone or anything but escape. Then I had my weird experience of someone telling me that it wasn't time, that I could do this and it would be OK. The voice was like a gossamer whisp, full of love and confidence. So I relaxed and stopped fighting the pain. I went unconscious for a long time, or so it seemed, and when I woke I knew it would be alright. I made an amazing recovery, and as Kevin did, I danced before I could walk.
This kind of experience is where you are stripped back to the basics of who you are. You need to trust your medical carers to do their best, you need to trust in your own ability to survive and then later look at the circumstances that led to being in that position without blaming yourself.
That was about 19 years ago and it took a lot of medical experimentation to put the disease into remission, and a lot of rehab, and I had a pretty normal life until a few years ago when the drugs had to be stopped and the deterioration started again, though at a much slower rate. And one of the hips wore out and had to be replaced again. Being unable some days to even pick up a cup, let alone walk, has had a profound effect on my thinking. I have learnt a great deal about "not resisting" and banging one's head against a brick wall type activity. I have more patience, and because I have been forced to be STILL more often, more time to observe. When life is stripped back to it's basics, and the endless RUSH of scientology thinking is slowed, you can actually smell the roses!
I wish I could say that all is well, but often it isn't. This has been one of the hardest parts of my recovery from scientology - the attitude that I pulled it in, that I am doing something wrong, and yes in the early days - that it was because I walked away from my "bridge". (Not that I had much choice about that as I was unacceptable as a PC.)
I decided that if I couldn't get around and live a 'normal' life, then I would use what I can...my head and hands. I create and I write.
It may not be what I envisioned my life to be, yet I have found great peace at times. Yeah, it's about attitude.
