Preparing for my first naturopath appointment was an ordeal.
This preparation began a few weeks before my actual appointment. I had a dozen pages of information to fill out beforehand. I could only spend about ten minutes at a time, that is to say, ten minutes a day, answering these questions. By the end of those ten minutes, I would be panting for air, with a seized up, squirming, pulsating brain, my hand no longer able to manipulate a pen, arms tingling with fireworks from this ... exertion. (sigh)
Oftentimes I would then have to go to bed for the rest of the day while my body and brain settled back down from their shattered state.
I was looking forward to / not looking forward to this appointment. I had met Dr. Kelly Upcott once before.
She had been accepting of the bizarre descriptions that I gave her of my symptoms. Patient as I fumbled for words, as I sat dumbly trying to connect my fractured thinking, as we both waited for the startled and scattered flock of thoughts to settle. And I would haltingly continue my litany of limitations.
She was optimistic for me, where I was not for myself, confident that there were answers for me, and that healing was most certainly possible in my future.
I wanted to see her again because of this but I was also overwhelmed at the enormity of the physical and mental work it would require of me, to get there, to participate as fully as I could, and to get back home.
On the day of my appointment my husband Alan drove me to Dr. Upcott's office. I fumbled my way through the door, into the lobby, to the desk, and let them know I was there. I found my way to a chair, sat with my eyes closed and tried to breathe my way to some homeostasis. (Didn't work.)
Once in her office, I asked for something to put on the arms of my chair, to buffer my elbows. Both arms were sore, especially my right one. I had a severe case of tendinitis that had lasted for seven months. She gave me two pillows to put under my punky elbows and that helped. Her easy, accepting manner about my fragile condition soothed me.
I couldn't say what our conversation was that first appointment. I remember only the things that she wrote down for me. I'd explained that my memory was leaky and undependable and she didn't mind making notes for me to take home.
Dr. Upcott gave me a tincture whose label reeled off a list of Latin names: Astragalus membranaceus, Bupleurum falcatum, Ganoderma lucidum, Ganoderma applanatum, Ganoderma tsugae, Lentinus edodes, Glycerrhiza glabra, Eleuthrococcus senticosis, Inonatus, obliquus, Grifola frodosa, Trametes versicolor, and Ascorbic acid.
I took a teaspoon of this vile tasting liquid when I got home and went to bed, exhausted from my trip. Within hours, I felt really sick, much worse than I had earlier. I hurt from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet, and my face was hot and prickly, my lips were numb.
Terrific.
Dr. Upcott had cautioned me that as it began to work, I might experience die-off, and it might be uncomfortable. Okay, that was definitely happening in a big way.
I continued to take this Deep Immune tincture twice a day, and within a few days, the pain and discomfort it set in motion was gone. Within a few weeks, the heat and stinging in my face became less intense and smaller in area, and eventually disappeared. And so did some of the bagginess under my eyes, as well as some of the dark shadows under them.
Apparently my first visit was a success. I began to prepare for the ordeal of my second visit, already scheduled for the next month.
I was looking forward to it, as I hadn't looked forward to anything in a very long time.