*Continuance of “My Story” starting with Blog #1: When your life flashes before your eyes in a flood gate of memories…
February 2015. While working on a client, doing massage therapy, my body was literally roasting from the inside out with illness. Symptoms had me spinning out of control. My stomach was deeply upset. My left side, underneath my ribs, burned deep inside like it was on fire. I’d battled upset stomachs daily, but this day felt very different. I knew that I was going to have explosive diarrhea. The problem was, I was only 1/2 hour into a 1.5 hour session. Hot sweats started, then rotated with cold sweats. Within minutes I felt like I was going to vomit. Pain ripped through my abdomen into my back. My abdomen, bloated and hurting from the pressure, made the left side and back pain more intense. I prayed silently, grimacing, while breathing through waves of the ripping pain.
My client was face-up as I worked. Eyes closed, oblivious to my immediate state of illness, this client would normally converse with me. Today, I was very thankful there was no conversation. I worked all the front and side muscles thoroughly, focusing on the client’s need for healing, as waves of pain ripped through me. At times I would have to lean against the massage table to keep from doubling over in unbearable pain. I was dizzy, the room having started spinning and happened a number of times throughout the session. While taking a few steps for more massage oil I nearly lost my balance, grabbing the wall to keep myself from falling over. I was feeling out of control. The urge to have a bowel movement was a battle throughout the session. It was horrible. At times I crossed my legs and bent at my waist to refrain from “letting loose”. The thought of filling my pants was terrifying. (I apologize if this is too much information. Just being real. Writing is therapeutic too.) We were half way through the client’s massage session, having turned laying on the stomach. I still needed to work the back of the legs and the back. I checked in with my client, making sure the pressure being applied to the muscles was tolerable.
As I worked, the pressure from my abdomen was pushing into my back, making it throb with excruciating pain. My low back to the middle of my left side of my back felt like it was going to burst. I continued battling the pain that seared through my body three dimensionally(3-D). All the while, trying to stay focused on my client, a pounding headache accommodated nausea, dizziness, hot and cold sweats, along with one very bloated abdomen kept me challenged. I crossed my legs, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to hold this in for another forty-five minutes. Hot and colds sweats were taking a toll, sweat dripping down my back and chest. We were one hour into the massage session with 1/2 hour to go. Time just couldn’t go fast enough.
My client was feeling well when I checked in at the 1 hour 15 minute mark, so mutually we ended the session short. The client was glad that I’d told them, “If you want to shorten the session you can”. They’d felt better and were happy to had saved some money!
I quickly washed my hands and exited the room. After I shut the therapy room door, I ran toward the bathroom in the next room, saying to Mom over my shoulder, “She had a 75 minutes session instead of a 90.”
I was in the second therapy room’s bathroom, barely, unloading my gut while Mom checked my client out. After the client left, Mom came knocking on the door asking, “Are you okay, Kelly? You were really pale when you came out from that session.”
“No,” I responded weakly. “I’m not okay. I feel terrible. I will be out in a while.” Minutes later, I returned to the main office area where Mom was waiting with concern written all over her face.
“You came out of the therapy room as white as a ghost, Kelly. The way you ran into the bathroom I knew something wrong.” Mom said, softly.
“It was terrible, Mom…” I explained, telling her what’d just happened during the seemingly long session.
My stomach was still upset, but not as upset as during my client’s massage session. I still had a full scheduled day’s work ahead, which was my choice. However, I had 1/2 an hour before my next client would be coming, so I laid down on a portable massage table in my second therapy room for some needed rest.
Mom had gone to switch linens on my table in the other therapy room while I rested. While resting, stomach cramps started again. I cried in pain. Mom soon came in and held my hand. She stayed at my side for a few minutes talking to me, and then walked back to the reception desk. A few minutes later, I knew I had to get into the bathroom again. I made it to the garbage can, but not quiet in time to vomit. This time it was not “normal” vomit, but black colored. It was bile. The smell was horrendous. Upon hearing what was happening, Mom came into the bathroom. I had a couple breaks between waves of vomit, so I was able to get to the toilet after the first wave finished. I continued vomiting. The smell of bile penetrated into my nostrils, igniting the need to wretch more.
After it was all done, I looked at the mess in disgust. I reached out and Mom gently told me, “I’ll clean it up, Kelly. You go lay down.” I stood weakly, walking to the sink, washing my hands and face, cleaning myself up and then brushed my teeth. Afterwards, we talked briefly in the reception area. “If you want me to cancel your clients for the rest of the day, I will. It’s 12:30pm now. You are booked solid the rest of the day into tonight. I think it would be wise if you rest today instead of work.” Mom said kindly. She paused for a response then said, “I will call your clients and re-schedule them, okay?”
“Please just call my next client and re-schedule. I’ll see how I feel after I lay down for a short while.” Mom just looked at me, shocked. I left the room to go lay down again. I didn’t like the bright light coming through the window in the room so I pulled a blanket over my head instead of getting up to close the shade. My left side, deep underneath my ribs, had a dull achy pain. It was no longer a ripping pain, so I was thankful. My whole abdomen hurt though. I was still bloated and had a pounding headache.
Fifteen minutes passed, then Mom came into the room, whispering, “How are you feeling, Kelly?” She stood next to me feeling my forehead. “Your head is warm.”
“Not much better.” I replied.
“I’m canceling the rest of today’s appointments then.” Mom stated.
I wasn’t happy about that, but knew if I didn’t feel better I wouldn’t be able to make it through the rest of my work day. So, I agreed that she could call the rest of my clients. However, twenty minutes later I was feeling better. I didn’t have any pain except for my “normal” dull achy left side pain that went straight thru into my back. My stomach was raw from vomiting, but otherwise I felt better. I knew it wasn’t the flu(or a Gluten exposure) and that I’d not be exposing anyone to a virus.
I slid myself up on the table, put my hair back in a pony tail and got up. Walking out into the reception area, Mom looked up from the computer where she was working. “I’m all better Mom!” I said. That was a statement I used to say to her when I a little girl after being sick, then feeling better, and my face would break out in a grin similar to the picture below… except with more teeth(hahaha).
“Oh my! You LOOK better! You’re not pale, and your cheeks are rosy again. Your eyes even look better!” Mom blurted out with a big ole’ smile.
“I feel much better. My stomach is a little raw, but that’s it. I’m hungry but I don’t dare eat anything!” Mom gave me an approving look, then we looked puzzled at one another. Since I had given her the approval to cancel my clients for the rest of the day, I now had an empty schedule.
I called my clients back. They all agreed to come to their original appointment times. My work schedule was then full again. I felt well the rest of that day. I drank a lot of water. I didn’t eat until 8pm that evening, before my last client(just in case). I ate a small bowl of chicken vegetable soup, and still felt alright.
Three things to note:
One: This was the one and only time I ever had to cut a session short throughout the whole duration of being ill, from opening the business in 2013-2017 when I got a clean bill of health. Although, other sessions that challenged me I’d just make it to the end of the session. There were some “close calls”.
Two: I knew the reason that I had vomited up bile was because of one(or more) of the supplements that I was taking from my Functional Medicine doctor were detoxing me, heavily. What I didn’t know at the time, was that the toxins weren’t getting out of my body QUICK enough. Vomiting was my body’s way of getting the toxins out FAST! I didn’t have the flu. Mom and I both knew that. I had been experiencing the various symptoms from the die-off(a reaction that happens when cellular toxins/bad pathogens; fungus, mold, viruses, parasites, candida, etc. are dying). The fast die-off was overwhelming my body’s ability to clean out in a timely manner through the skin, liver, kidneys, and final elimination through the colon. The dying pathogens caused symptoms just like I had; fever, muscle aches, headaches, ignited gut issues, hot and cold sweats, diarrhea, nausea, dizziness, and more.
Three: Die-off doesn’t “just happen” by itself. There has to be substantial change(s) being made for a die-off effect to happen. For me, the numerous detox and nutritional supplements that I was taking were the igniters causing this effect.
“Die-off” is a VERY important component in the detoxification process in order to kill-off and eradicate the toxins out that have been built up in one’s body. The die-off effect symptoms can be unpleasant to rigorously difficult for a person, but in the end, the rewards of restoring one’s health are incredibly worth it!
The majority of days during this long season of illness, I was glad to be alive. On other days, like the one I just shared, I wasn’t so compelled to be on this earth much longer. To live your life in pain, every single day to some degree higher than my new “normal”, I knew wasn’t what I wanted, nor found any enjoyment in. Life wasn’t easy to say the least. I didn’t have a social life. I couldn’t go out to eat with friends (because of my very restricted diet), nor did I get invited out(or would I have wanted to with how I felt). My life consisted of my work, running my business, dealing with my health, trying to eat/sleep, a small workout, taking care of my pets, and bad days of just trying to make it through with one foot in front of the other.
What was God trying to teach me? I was in a valley, virtually feeling completely alone, but yet not alone. Mom was with me through it all. My Dad and brother were there if I needed something, also. I had my few select individuals that knew of my health as mentioned in Please, Do Tell. And, I had my biggest love, my Papa God. I knew my Papa was in control, but yet I still felt like my life was spinning out of control. And maybe that was just it… maybe that’s what my Papa God wanted for ME to give him COMPLETE control of my health situation. That would mean handing him the reigns, TRUSTING Him COMPLETELY. Was I really ready for that?