While a student at Southwest College of Naturopathic Medicine and Health Sciences, President Dr. Paul Mittman introduced me to a little book by E. B. Nash, entitled Leaders in Homoeopathic Therapeutics that intrigued me and began my quest for keynotes. Dr. Mittman’s enthusiasm for homeopathy inspired my creativity with homeopathy and writing. I used to sit in his class and dream about writing. During my first clinical year, Dr. Mittman invited three fellows from the World Health Organization (WHO) that changed the course of my studies and my thoughts. I would like to thank him dearly for the wonderful education.
Special thanks to Dr. Ann Seipt for having confidence in me when I was a medical student. Her early visions told me of trips to India, working, and life in the Far East. How did she know?
Dr. Todd Rowe gave me writing assignments during my first year in medical school that were just the beginning of my path towards being an author. A homework assignment should inspire students and he certainly has. Thank you!
Lastly, I must thank the Santa Clara Apple Store team. The team’s creative teachings has helped me to write this book and design my book cover. I would personally like to thank Kimia Kasraie, Jason Hayes, Hamilton Farrow, Joel Paulsen, Jeremy Commandeur, Bryan Moriarty, Dominic Ingoglia, John Burkavage, Matt Tracy, Joshua Wetenkamp, and Jason Cayabyab (who has a great smile). The team is outstanding and their qualities that include dedication, inspiration, knowledge, artistic ability, and suggestions have worked for me!
Sarah Brightman sings and writes the most beautiful music that has filled my heart. In the lush tropical Jungle Village, her music, lyrics, and voice penetrated my very soul and brought me great comfort. When I listened to her music, it was as if she had been singing to me alone. Thank you, Sarah!
From the Pen of Dr. Denise
Oh India, Here I Come!
Monsoon Season: July 4, 2009
Dum Dum Airport
Kolkata (Calcutta), West Bengal, India
There are so many mysteries in India, including finding your baggage and getting out of the airport in a timely matter. Timely is a relative term in India, but to me it means getting out of the airport in anything less than four hours. There was just one snag this time, the AH1N1 flu pandemic.
The Government of India was conducting entry screening for all passengers traveling to India from other countries, in which their goal was to report human cases of the swine flu. There was yet another form to be filled out and a long line to stand in. Most of all the form had to be properly filled out. The goal was to declare yourself healthy and proceed to immigration.
Normally this would not be a problem, but how does one look coming from California where the cases of influenza have stayed persistent from April to July. There was a section on the form, “Have you been anywhere where there has been a flu outbreak?” Another question that did not bode well for me, “In the last seven days, have you been traveling in a community where there are one or more confirmed swine influenza AH1N1 cases or do you reside in a community where there are one or more confirmed cases of swine flu?”
After I thought of all the closed schools in my community, as well as the deaths in California due to influenza, I wondered if I would see Dr. Sarkar and his precious family that was waiting for me, or just proceed straight to quarantine, or the appointed Indian government runned hospital, with the other suspect cases. This is where my journey was about to begin.
Should I lie? It just doesn’t seem right to lie to a government official before entering the country. On the other hand, I would hate to be quarantined the moment I arrive in India considering all the preparation for the trip and time off from work.
After carefully considering my options, I decided the truth was a noble and ethical approach. Standing in queue for quite some time gave me plenty of time to consider my options. My turn had finally arrived. I was next.
I stood in front of the health committee which seemed to make me very nervous. I couldn’t help but feel guilty for some health crime I had not committed. In this case, sad but true. There must be a homeopathic rubric for supposed crimes. Ah, but there is one. I just hate to admit I need the remedy for a mind symptom.
The nurse stood in front of me, at attention, in a perfectly ironed, starched white uniform with her hair carefully tucked up in a white cap balanced on the top of her head. She stared at the form and informed me that I had missed a section, and no, she did not want to lend me her pen after seeing my X’s carefully placed in the boxes. I rustled around looking for a pen, and, God bless me, after traveling on the airplane for two days I could not find one in my purse.
After begging her for a pen for what seemed to be an eternity, she finally relented and let me borrow hers out of complete frustration, knowing she had 350 inspections left. I was starting to feel a little worried after she combed my form, seeing the yes box filled in where it would be better to see no. I was clearly worried.
I suddenly blurted out, “I am a doctor!” These seemed to be the magical words and the serious look on her face shifted to a smile and the next thing I knew there was a sudden but hard thump on the document with a stamp of approval. THUD! That was it! I was a free bird to tackle customs and immigration.
Oh India, Here I Come!
Fear of Arrest!
A sense of humor is one of my strongest attributes that has come in handy at points in time throughout my life. More than once, a little humor has certainly gotten me through a difficult day. I laugh when I think back at my funny but worrisome adventure at the Dum Dum Airport which reminds me that I am human. My little mind symptom that I would rather forget, or simply bypass all together, has left me with a great introduction to Zincum metallicum.
In Boericke’s New Manual of Homeopathic Materia Medica & Repertory, there is one short keynote that is simple but tells all: Fears arrest on account of a supposed crime.” 6 It would be wise for me to remember this important keynote, as Zincum metallicum may come in handy with further incidents at the airport, or during my many adventures in the Jungle Village located deep in the tropics of West Bengal.
I find the Jungle Village to be the most appropriate name for the vast spreading village, located two hours by train, yellow Ambassador taxi, or blue Tata Land Rover from Kolkata. The village, that is spread out under a grand tropical canopy of green lush plants and banyan trees, is where I reside with Dr. Sarkar and his family during my extended stays in India. The Jungle Village has been given to the name of the village solely for my purposes since I cannot, after many Bengali lessons, correctly pronounce Thakurnagar so that any person in West Bengal can understand me at all! Since my first arrival at Dum Dum Airport in July, 1999, I have decided it is a much wiser decision to call Thakurnagar the Jungle Village and leave it at that.
“Why?” One might be curious and want to ask? Here is the quick version of the story. Upon my first arrival in India after traveling for over 36 hours, with stops in Japan and Thailand, I stood in queue for two hours at customs and immigration at Dum Dum Airport. Finally, after a bout of nausea due to the intense heat, no circulating air, humidity, and my apprehension, I approached the immigration officer, who was dressed in a stiff military uniform and looking ever-so-official. He asked me where I was going in India. I replied, “Thakurnagar…Thakkkurnnnagar, Thakkkurnnnagar.” I tried to say Thakurnagar, over and over, but to no avail. The officer simply could not understand what I was saying or where I was going. “Thakkkurnnaaagar…”
Finally,