Sunday, July 17, 2011

Acceptance

There have been several "dream messages" from Ken given to me through family members. Most notably, our youngest daughter's, here's her description, written to me in an email: "I went to my house but you were there making food. It felt like your house but it was definitely mine. I was talking to you when I saw Daddy's butt as he got out of the shower. I said, "of all parts to see of Daddy, I get to see his butt!" and you laughed. After he got shorts on he walked by. I asked you if I was just seeing things and you said, "Try to talk to him" as he walked by I asked, "Hey Daddy how ya doing?" and he said, "I'm doing great. Thin, active, and I still get to be here" He walked into the bedroom and Cat was right behind him wagging her tail a whole bunch. She acted like she didn't even see me :( I saw her though. They disappeared. I cried with you for a second and then Daddy called out, "Hey Mary" and I looked up and said, "Daddy just called you" and you said, "I heard him" with a big grin. You went into the bedroom and laid your head on his belly. Then you came back into the kitchen and showed me the dish you had prepared. It was lettuce on top of a whole head of purple cabbage that was on top of a bowl of chopped vegetables. I took a bite of the cabbage and it just fell apart perfectly. You said you soaked it overnight in vegetable juice. Everything was super soft and perfect. I took a bite of the vegetables in the bowl with a big wooden spoon and accidentally ate the spoon! I apologized and figured out, oh this is a dream! I can't eat wood even if it's soaked over night. Then Daddy came back and said, "Tell your mom to separate the pictures and put the right ones into a storage container way back."
I'm so proud of her ability to achieve lucid dreams, which has been a goal of mine. Later, she told me he said "box" instead of "storage container," as that was her interpretation. I had been working on a grief box, an exercise for my bereavement support group, and the small photo album I had filled with Ken's photos didn't fit. So the message made sense to me, and I was very happy he was here and aware of what I'm doing.
Now the acceptance part. I am truly here without him. Wishing it were different is causing me pain, just as wishing my son was not schizophrenic causes pain to him and myself, because what is, is. It takes a lot of trust to believe that there are no accidents, no tragedies, just truth--truth that I signed up for and agree with. I am profoundly changed by my losses, there is no doubt about that. I seek to grow and to make almost 40 years of great love with Ken spiritually worth it. How can it not be?

Monday, July 4, 2011

Treating Psychosis Naturally

Pfeiffer Treatment Center diagnosed my son, who has schizophrenic symptoms but does not respond to conventional treatment, with pyroluria, a genetic blood disorder that allows pyroles to build up when hemoglobin is produced. The result is zinc and B6 deficiency, usually becoming worse during puberty. The symptoms may be similar to bipolar or schizoaffective disorders, and can manifest as anxiety and an inability to handle stress. B6 and zinc deficiency are easy to correct with megadoses of supplements; the challenge is to get someone with hallucinations and delusions to take them. Also, long-standing nutrient deficiencies can cause other imbalances. Pfeiffer compounded a formula for my son, who is not consistent about taking it. Since Ken passed I have been working to pay bills. I believe this is exactly as it should be, I am being guided, and it leaves my son very much on his own...we'll see how that turns out. The zinc and vitamin C are actually easy to add to tart foods like yogurt and lemonade. The B vitamins, however, are bitter tasting. I keep putting out the capsules and he takes them when he feels like it. I have just asked him not to throw them in the trash or the sink, due to the cost. He's a sweet soul, so my request has been honored. Eventually I think he will decide it is easier to take them than to hide them from me or try to get me to give up. Giving up is not an option for me. Add to that my daughter tested her 7 year old for pyroles and found a definite problem, explaining many troublesome behaviors, and is beginning early treatment. Go, next generation with knowledge!!

Learning to do Grief

Grief felt pretty much like self-pity at first. I know with all my being that Ken is not dead. He is young, strong, healthy and happy to be out of his sick body. I miss his old form terribly though. After not knowing what to do with myself I was directed to a grief group led by a dynamic facilitator at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach. She suggests an hour a day of grief work, with props like photos and songs, to empty out emotions so they don't build up to tsunami levels. This works, it feels healthy and natural. I still fall apart in the car sometimes (are other people in their cars doing this? Pull over!). I keep kleenex on the front seat and lean into it. I feel Ken's comforting touch and embrace, I see his smile and am aware of his mannerisms as if he is close to me. Over-analyzing this as either my imagination or my holding him back from his own journey, I was comforted by my daughter's dream. In it, he told her not to grieve that he is missing events in our lives, because time is not the same where he is, and our separation is just the blink of an eye, it's nothing.

Not that I'm an expert or anything...

Mary Earhart,

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