A Quest for Healing – A Story of Love - EBOOK. Wendy Carol Abelson RNCP, ROHP. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Wendy Carol Abelson RNCP, ROHP
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Биографии и Мемуары
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780987866233
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      Chapter 2

      In the Beginning

      The air was crisp that cool winter evening and the sky was filled with stars that seemed to sparkle with laughter. I ran across the parking lot, fearing I would be late for my first night of work. I had just accepted a job teaching jazz dance for a racquet club and was unsure about what to expect. I felt confident about the classes that I taught at Mount Royal College, but this was a new experience, and as with most new experiences, I felt a bit apprehensive.

      As I opened the doors to the club, I was greeted by the smiling face of my friend Tanya and she told me where the studio was located. I rushed down the hall, my heart beating rapidly with anticipation. It was then that I saw a man of attractive build, wearing a green sweater, and his beaming smile caught my attention. As he approached from the other end of the hall, he paused briefly to say hello. Our eyes met and for a moment I lost myself in his beautiful blue eyes. There was something special, something familiar about this man, about his eyes, but what was it? It seemed almost as if time itself had slowed and I ran in suspended motion. “Hello,” he said. “I hope you have a good class.”

      “Thanks,” I replied, finding it difficult to break eye contact. He rushed down the hall to the reception desk. I wondered if he worked for the club, and if he was almost late for work as I had been.

      After an invigorating first class, I packed my dance shoes into my bag and headed for the door. As I walked by the reception area, I wondered if I would see the man who had stirred something powerful within me. He seemed to be nowhere in sight, however, so I bundled myself in my blue down coat and prepared for the freezing race to the car.

      The drive home seemed to take forever. Calgary is well known for its unpredictable weather, and a cold snowy night had begun. I parked my car in front of my house and walked to the door. The snow crunched under my feet as the snowflakes began to fall gently to the ground. The clear starry night was now filled with ominous clouds.

      Several months went by of teaching classes for the racquet club. During this time, I did not notice the mysterious man who had caught my attention that first night, nor did I realize the impact that he would have upon my life. Circumstances would soon bring us face to face again.

      Chapter 3

      Ominous Clouds

      It was a windy spring day in 1986, a day that would mark the beginning of one of the most challenging times of my life. When I entered Dr. Griffen’s office, I did not know that my world was about to shatter into a million pieces. “Hi Wendy,” said Dr. Griffen without smiling. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a monotone voice. Dr. Griffen was a good doctor, but the nurturing side of medicine was absent in his personality.

      “I must admit that I’ve been feeling tired lately.”

      “I can understand that from the results that we got back from the lab.” A lump formed in my throat as my heart began to pound. For fifteen years, I had juggled blood sugars, insulin, and food because of my diabetes. What was wrong now?

      Dr. Griffen proceeded to tell me that my kidney and liver function were beginning to deteriorate, and that the tests did not look good. “The results show your kidneys are in distress, it is as if you have had diabetes for forty years,” said Dr. Griffen in a rough voice.

      I swallowed back tears. It felt like my life was ending. “But I’m only twenty-one. This can’t be happening.”

      I left Dr. Griffen’s office feeling like I had been handed a death sentence. To add to this distress, an echo filled my mind of a previous visit with an eye specialist. He believed that laser surgery was necessary in order to save my vision from diabetic retinopathy. Walls were closing in on me from all directions. There seemed to be nowhere that I could run.

      By the time I reached home, my emotional strength was drained. I secluded myself in my bedroom and cried until I felt numb. Why was this happening to me? My basement room became a refuge from a world that seemed cold and dark.

      The eye specialist began a series of laser treatments at the hospital. These were extremely painful and not merely “minor discomfort” as the eye specialist had led me to believe. It was obvious that the doctors who stated this had never endured the experience. After each session of laser surgery, I paced the floor of my home, crying. There had to be a better solution.

      I spent days thinking about my life and my beliefs. I had read an interesting book about the power of the mind and how it affects reality, but the idea of positive thinking seemed far and remote from my current situation. I needed a miracle, but the more I prayed the more frustrated I became. The sadness inside me was unbearable.

      One day, I was sitting in front of the TV, feeling a great deal of self-pity and fear. My brother drove up and I watched him walk up the sidewalk. James, a beautiful and loving soul, had an understanding of life that most people seemed to miss. I was thankful that he had decided to come for a visit.

      “There is something that you might like to try. It worked well for a friend of mine who was very ill.” James told me about a natural method of healing known as wheat grass therapy. “There is a clinic in Boston run by Anne Wigmore. She works with raw vegetarian food. The clinic has had some amazing results.” James gave me a book that explained the science behind the therapy. With traditional methods not delivering the results I was seeking, I was willing to try anything.

      “Do you think this might help my kidneys?” I asked.

      “There is only one way to find out,” said James.

      After reading about the healing properties of wheat grass, I became very inspired. My dad built me a lighting system to grow trays of wheat. I would juice it when it grew to about six inches tall.

      For a month, I drank ounces of wheat grass and ate nothing but raw vegetarian food. It was an extreme step, but desperation was guiding my actions. My family would be feasting on baked potatoes and I would look on in envy. I tried to convince myself that I was not sacrificing anything, that this treatment would heal my body. Convincing myself was a challenge.

      I was also taking the City’s Tai Chi classes from James. Tai Chi, an ancient form of martial art and meditation, taught me that the body has an energy field. When sickness occurs in the body, it is because there is a blockage in the flow of energy. Tai Chi balances the flow of energy to its natural state. In other words, health is a natural condition.

      It was a Monday night when I sat at my desk, pondering over the stack of books that lay before me. I had been reading everything from Eastern spirituality to ideas that had never entered my mind. It all seemed confusing and contradictory. Where were the answers?

      An overwhelming feeling of self-pity came over me. A part of me wanted to die and be free of physical limitations. The other part of me was silently calling out for help, but I felt like God was not listening. In desperation, I decided to pray one more time. “God, could you PLEASE help me! I don’t understand why all this is happening to me! Please heal me!” Feeling completely alone, I flopped myself onto my bed. I looked at the bottle of blood pressure pills that was on my desk. A brief thought came into my mind to swallow the entire contents of the bottle. As if I was threatening God to help me or else! I knew I would never do it however.

      The telephone rang and I made my way to answer it.

      “Hello,” I said.

      “How are you?” asked my friend Tanya.

      “I’ve certainly had better days in my life.”

      “What’s wrong? I haven’t heard from you for a long time.”

      I proceeded