Curry: The Ultimate Cure For Stem Cell Craziness

These are not food cravings. This is food compulsion. I am convinced.

I am back in my pajamas at 2 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon watching the movie Seven Pounds (which makes me cry every time), and dripping in Indian food.  It is the latest must have that strikes every couple of days like clockwork. Yesterday was Chinese food. The day before? Cottage cheese and chocolate; alternate bites. Afternoons bring coffee (decaf of course) desperation. It used to be one cup a week. Now, it's two a day with vanilla creamer in a regular glass, not a coffee cup. The intensity of the insanity comes in waves. There are times I can eat just anything and be fine. And then, there are the other times which belong in a category all their own. These times are ones like now, where I have curry much too close to my laptop, and enough food in the kitchen from an Indian restaurant I drove over 30 minutes in the rain to pick up food from, to feed four of me. These are ‘stem cell cravings.’  I have no one in my life these days willing to support my impulsive craziness for these needs. My family seems to see them as wants but it goes deeper so I am on my own – apparently in the rain and in the car and in my pj’s…just hoping no other urges strike tonight.

I have been riding an emotional (and possibly part hormonal) roller coaster lately. And in addition, my ankles and knees have decided to scare the hell out of me by hurting. I broke the one cardinal rude of Dr. Ashish’s which is most likely the reason for all of this: don’t overdo it. But alas, I never listen, and then I worry. I have an internal drive to overdo everything and anything because to me, that is the race to beyond post-Lyme. The finish line is the place where I almost can’t see it sitting in my past anymore; when I can get far enough ahead that the thoughts of what it could do if ever to return are gone, and I can feel totally safe. That point will be beyond a disease that destroyed relationships and my body and pretty much everything but my spirit. I have forgotten what it feels like to be sick. But, I still want more...to forget what it feels like to fear its return, even if the fear only visits on occassion now.

A couple of weeks ago, I started a new exercise program, in hopes of helping me sleep more soundly, and getting my body to a stronger place. Well, in true Amy style, I didn’t start slow – I jumping jacked and lunged myself a little too ambitiously perhaps, giving my body no time to adjust after years and years of tattered joints and tendons and destroyed muscles. I often forget how deconditioned I might be deep down on the inside. And I think I’m paying now. On the other hand, painful tendons and joints are one of my classic Lyme symptoms. And even though I started feeling the pain around the same time as I stepped up my exercise, it still pulls that part of me inside that….well, wonders ‘what if?’ The timing is slightly eerie as I’ve been feeling the invisible tug on my arm that tells me it’s time for more Lyme testing. It was agreed upon by my doctors not long ago that I’d do it again, around now.  I finished a 6-week round of antibiotics about a month ago without a touch of a problem. No herx reaction, no Lyme? One would like to think. But I always toy with the question, “how much is enough?” Should I have done 8 weeks? Or another medication? And no one, even the best doctors in the U.S., have the answers.

As I was sitting and waiting for my Indian food drinking chai (offered to me by the owner after I divulged I’ve been to Delhi, three times now), I realized my cravings for Indian food represent so much more than just food. My body is craving the nutrients it needs to support my baby stem cells growth but also, it is craving more. It craves the absolute freedom and safety I feel in the other world I miss so much – India. I discovered so much of my life there – spirit, love, undying hope.  Delhi is dirty and crowded and chaotic and everything I hate – but I am absolutely and utterly, taken by the city. I feel torn when I’m in the states, like something is missing. It can’t be explained unless you’ve been there, and maybe not even then. You either hate it, or love it. And even if you love it, you hate to love it. So unique, that even in its depths of despair and extremes, it has the most beautiful aura; one uniquely its own. Fellow patients and family members will be shaking their heads in agreement when they read this. The food, with it’s spiciness and sweetness and rich texture calms my cravings instantly, but also my soul. I feel at home. I am reminded that everything will be ok and that fear is no longer bigger than survival – of Lyme, or of anything else.

My energy and stamina are strong and although my ‘what if?’ worries fall by the wayside more and more with time, I realize I need reminders to keep them at bay. Sometimes it creeps in, at times like this. Times when I’m having trouble walking up and down the same stairs I was running on two weeks ago. Patients often ask me if I’m “totally normal” now and I, without thought, always say “yes.” But moments like today remind me I still have a little ways to go. This is a slow process and sometimes I think the body heals at a faster pace than the mind. Actually, I know it does.

I left the Indian restaurant with a box full of to-go food packed ironically, in a Corona beer box, and saw that I was getting a parking ticket as I walked down the street. In my chai induced state of bliss, I ran over to the officer and said “Wait….I was just getting Indian food. I really needed it. I miss India. I lost track of time.” She looked at me confused and said, “Well, your meter ran out.” I politely responded with, “I won’t try to argue. I get it. I really needed this food so I guess it's worth the ticket.” I put my hand out to take it. She looked at me with confusion, cocked her head to the side as if she were thinking deeply and bargained with me: “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to let you go but put some extra money in the meter next time, ok?” I thanked her and hurried into the car. While sifting through my wallet when I parked, I found more rupees than quarters, which is why there wasn’t more in the meter in the first place. I grabbed the garlic naan out of the Corona box, tucked it in the front seat with me for the drive home and giggled to myself, proud for having escaped a ticket. KARMA.

I am now fed and happy and re-charged. The Hindi music that was playing in the restaurant dances in my head. I still see the shades of pink and yellow that adorned the tables, and my answer of what to do next about the impending fear  just came to me so clearly, it's like someone whispered it in my ear.

Her name is Neo.

I met her in India.

And it changed my life forever.

I know you want more, but I can't give an explanation that will do the experience justice at the moment.

She asked me the first time I met her what my biggest fear was. And I said, "Lyme returns," as if it is a horror movie which tries to keep itself alive with sequels.  And she said two things with the most determined straight face:

"So what?? If it returns, you will heal yourself again just like you did before" and "the disease served its purpose in your life. You don't need it anymore so it has no reason to return." 

They are the two most intelligent things anyone has ever said to me in all those years of struggle. Maybe the two most intelligent things anyone has said to me ever. When I remember her words and the absolute force in which she said them, my entire body relaxes into this safe place that I cannot even begin to explain.

Curry. A Skype appointment with Neo. And some more time in my jammies. Perfect.

If I can’t get to Delhi on this Saturday afternoon to bake in the humidity, marvel at the people packed streets where everyone still has room to smile, complain to Dr. Shroff and have her say “don’t worry, you are fine” in a tone that drives me crazy but screams you don't have to believe it but you do have to listen, and stop at my favorite flower stand for tuberose, then these are the next best things.

Oh yes. And one more plate of Indian food to seal the deal. Ahhh, I feel better already.

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Note: More information about Neo and her amazing EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) can be found here: http://www.astrology-neo.com/index.html

Also, please feel free to leave a comment or e-mail if you have any questions: editor@healthcarehacks.com.

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About amybscher

With a passion for the little things in life, a former 'career' as a pioneering patient, and a sassy spirit with just enough sweetness to get me by, I live by my self-created motto: when life kicks your ass, kick back.amybscher's profile amybscher's blog