In Repose Blog

My Favorite Reiki Healing Story

I became reiki pretty much by default. Nothing touched my severe and debilitating chronic pelvic pain. In those days of uninterrupted and constant horror, I often daydreamed of running my truck into an oncoming 18 Wheeler.  If I had not had a loving family to leave behind, I think I might have seriously considered making that dream a reality. I probably would have really chosen a bridge to crash over into a ravine as I wouldn't really have ruined that trucker's day.

So in 2000 after trying umpteen doctors, including a pain clinic, dozens of drugs, dozens of horrible side effects from said drugs, multiple therapies including electrical tens units and manual manipulation, acupuncture and traditional hypnosis, all resulting in utter failure or worse because of those damnable side effects... I found reiki.

Now, I cannot say reiki healed me. I cannot even say reiki eliminated my pain or my problem completely. But it did something nothing else was able to do. It gave me hope, it did ease the edges off of my pain and gave me great comfort that I was doing something safe, sacred and helpful. And I was able to help MYSELF. Nearly three years later after daily self-healing, my problem faded away.

I quickly attained my first, second, third and master attunement. I am a Usui Reiki Master. I think I have used reiki almost every day of my life for almost a decade now. But I do have one story that remains my best and favorite story of reiki healing.

It was a warm spring evening, and my kids were playing with other children in the front yard while I was planting hostas in the backyard. I was just finishing up as darkness was approaching, and my hands were thick with dirt. My husband came through the back door and announced that Lauren had been hurt, and I better come look at her. I quickly washed my hands and went to see what happened. One of the neighborhood boys had just gotten his lacrosse gear and was showing our children how to fling the hard little ball with the stick. Apparently, Lauren's right eye got in the way of a  lacrosse ball launched at considerable speed by one very strong child. I looked at her face and eye already beginning to swell and turn red and purple. Should we go to the hospital? I felt along the bones of her face, it didn't seem like anything was broken, but she was well on her way to having her first black eye, the swelling was beginning already.

I got a bag of ice and some pillows and comforters and we lay down on the sofa together. I alternated the ice bag with my own hands as I sent the healing energy of reiki to her little face. For a little while the swelling just increased and the colors darkened and intensified going from that dark red to more of a purple. I thought again about the hospital, but Lauren was dozing and my gut said, it was not necessary. We continued alternating ice and reiki for several hours. Late that night I walked her to her bedroom and tucked her in. As I kissed her goodnight I began to think about how we would handle school the next day. She was going to have a doozie of a shiner and we were going to have to contact the school and her teacher for the questions that likely were going to be asked once they looked at her face.

In the  morning I held my breath as I walked into Lauren's room to see how she felt and see how her face looked. Imagine my surprise when, she looked completely normal. I was shocked and for a moment I wondered if I had dreamed her injury. I sat on the bed with her. I asked her how she felt. She said fine. I touched her eye socket and pressed gently all around her face. "Isn't this sore?" I asked. "Maybe just a teensy bit," she answered, "But no, not really."

We looked into the mirror together and noted that her skin color, all along her eye socket and all over her face was completely normal and there was not one bit of swelling.

How was this possible? The swelling just hours before was significant. The colors were deep red to blue to purple and covered a large portion of her face. I have seen and experienced black eyes. They take a long while to heal and make several color changes along the way. How could she return to normal so quickly with no black (or red or purple) eye after the injury she sustained?

How indeed.

When Your Time is Up...its UP.

How do you know when its "really" your time? Here's a recent news story from Ynetnews.com.

An Israeli man died after falling from a medivac helicopter that was flying him to a hospital. He and friends had been picnicking in a minefield. Yeah, you read correctly. There were posted signs near this field located near the northern Israeli city of Beit She'an, but the group of three ignored them and went in to have a nice lunch.

A death wish right there, it seems.

Alaa Agabriya, 24, walked in and apparently rather than nosh on a nice sandwich, managed to blow off one of his feet.

Oops.

The medivac helicopter crew who came to his rescue swears they strapped him inside properly, but somehow, he slipped (oops number two) and plummeted to the ground.

He later died of his injuries.

Bad Design = Dangerous Design

Lenette asks, "What happened to that horse's leg?"

<imagine great big sigh coming from out of my mouth right now.>

I have always always hated rounded pipe fence corners. I do have a few panels around, but you can see my fence of choice beyond this intersection of panels: plain wooden boards. The paddock you see in the background of this photo has "no-climb" horse fence combined with wooden boards for when there was a baby in there. (Coyotes, donchaknow?)

The rounded corner of common horse panels creates a trap for a horse's hoof. I have other horse friends who have said when I have worried over this detail: "Yes, its possible, for a hoof to get trapped there, but not very likely."

I think if its possible for a horse to hurt itself, it will. Its like having a 2 year old and, say, a house with a brick (sharp-edged) fireplace hearth. That sharp edge is just calling for that toddler's forehead to come and meet it in a big way. Any mother knows this.

Its the same with horses.

So the mare kicked at this fence and wedged her leg in that bent opening somehow. Yes, she did that damage with her leg. Even now I am discussing with a horse friend whether or not a square corner would have actually been worse. Did the curve invite the leg to be trapped, but allow it out in the end? Would a straight corner actually just have ripped off her hoof? Who knows?

This shelter was made for cows, not horses and has fairly severe limitations for equines. I have always known this, but have not had 60k in my back pocket to build a little horse barn...either plain or with padded stalls with pillows on the floor.

Now, where is that ice pack for my head?

Triage, a Definition.

tri·age /triˈɑʒ/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[tree-ahzh]  

1.	the process of sorting victims, as of a battle or disaster, to determine medical priority in order to increase the number of survivors.

2.	the determination of priorities for action in an emergency.

–adjective 

3.	of, pertaining to, or performing the task of triage: a triage officer.

–verb (used with object) 

4.	to act on or in by triage: to triage a crisis.

If life wasn't busy enough...with impending visits from relatives, parties to throw and attend, work to do, end of year events to go to...I have come to consider myself a triage nurse of late.

Here, lets list the current patients.

1. Myself  (details later...maybe.)
2. Cielo the rat. Had some sort of stroke. I thought he was going to die within hours. Not only did he not die, he has improved, but needs some pretty constant care. We carry him around in a basket. Vet visits in the past 10 days: Two. Prescriptions: Also 2. Imagine administering drops to a little rat....not easy.
3. Angelo his brother. Always a needly dental patient Angelo has now decided to add bleeding eye to his repetoire. Believe it or not he needs his teeth ground down, about twice a month. Every time I walk in for this service I think to myself this little rat has better dental care than most of the planet's human population. The irony is totally not lost upon me.
3. Nicky the cat. Bacterial and fungal ear infection, vet visit Tuesday and ear drops daily.
4. Ellie the cat. Allergies so intense she licks her belly to infection. 101 degree May days do not help the matter at all. She needed a shot this week, antibiotic pill daily.
5. Literally five minutes after making the appointment to have Nicky's ear looked at, I notice Raven the dog has a bloody growth on her eye. I call the vet back, they say, sure, bring her in with Nicky.  Raven needs eye surgery ...TOMORROW, says the vet, before any more corneal abrasion.
6. And just when I considered myself filled to the brim with crisis, this afternoon I discover my mare Belle, has really messed up her leg with severe lacerations and swelling. I don't think anything is broken, I am calling the vet first thing in the morning. I have come to think that a horse could hurt itself in a padded stall with pillows on the floor. Sheesh.

I am just plain tired.

The Road to Our House

They're straightening it.

See, we live in the "hill country" of Central Texas; a place of immeasurable beauty I have come to love deeply. The hills are not very high, but they have such great character. You can stand on one and look around and count five or six or 10 more. The valleys at the bottom normally have water on beautiful limestone beds and, at the right time of year, wildflower beauty unmatched anywhere on earth.

Our small neighborhood and the little towns that surround it are built on pure limestone rock. Our houses are in valleys or perched atop hills and our roads follow ancient paths of the animals, horse paths and carts for the most part. We have many curving, and steep roads.

We live just west of 'Hard Hill". Its called Hard Hill by folks around here because many vehicles find it hard to get to the top. Many times I am on my way to town and find a path of orange triangles or lit flares leading to a heavy truck of some kind stalled on the right hand side of the road waiting for help. You can imagine how these people standing on that hard hill appreciate the straight and level byways of the more civilized roads in town.

The road crews can't do much for Hard Hill, but they ARE beginning a long-talked about plan to straighten the S curves that lie just east of it. Those turns are very popular with motorcyclists heading into the hills. Popular too, with men in shiny red sports cars, teens allowed some automotive freedom and others who like to drive fast. Its a fun road for some people.

Me? Not so much. Not because of the road so much, but because I have to share it with people who clearly, do not think, nor drive the way I do.

Its also sad, to count the roadside crosses on the way into town. From our neighborhood road to the first shopping plaza there are about 6 of them. One place has three little crosses in a row. The saddest cross is for a little 5 yr old girl who died on her way to kindergarten. That one usually has fresh decorations. I wonder about what the crew will do when they reach the crosses. Will they call someone to move them? Will they move the shrines themselves?

Most of the wrecks on this road happen when its wet and someone loses control and crosses the center lines along those S curves. Sometimes its someone turning left, right in the middle of the S's. That's a rough place to turn left, even during the broad daylight, in nice weather.

So my daughter and I were on our way to a music recital this evening. We were a little late, as usual, but not by a lot, maybe a minute or two.

We never made it to the recital. Not because anything happened to US, but because a roll over accident happened about a dozen cars in front of us and completely blocked the road. About an hour and a half later, we were able to move, pass the accident and turn around and go home.

I'm really glad Lauren was in the truck with me. I have sat, on that road, and watched other events like this one, sometimes seeing the helicopters come and take away the broken bodies. I have watched when the white sheets are pulled up over the victims faces. I usually don't do very well in these situations, I usually sit and cry and think of my brother laying on a road in Kansas.

Just 12 cars ahead of us tonight someone lost control on the hill and rolled his truck and trailer into on coming traffic. We missed being involved by maybe a minute. Maybe two. Certainly no more than that.

40,000 Americans die on the road every year. I'm sorry we missed the recital, but I am not sorry to have missed the close up drama of the rollover, either to have seen it or to have been in it. I hope the people involved in this wreck don't miss Christmas or New Year's, I hope their families don't have to plan a funeral rather than open presents or pop champagne.

I hope I don't see a seventh cross on the road.