One year after my extended stay in South Lake Tahoe the memories still permeate my consciousness. Like snapshots in a photo album I flash on scenes: driving down Lake Tahoe Boulevard past Izzy’s Burger Spa, walking through Aspen trees on the trail to Fallen Leaf Lake, sitting on the deck of my house listening to Stellar Blue Jays cackling in the tall Jeffrey pine trees and gazing at the Sierras from the top of Twin Peaks. And then there are the memories of people: sitting in a circle with other patients at the Fibromyalgia Relief Center laughing at the simplest comments, sharing at the deepest levels and feeling unconditional support and acceptance for each of our situations. There are also special memories of playing music with Unity at the Lake’s “One Voice”, blending my voice in harmony with others in a common purpose infused with spirit.
I think of these memories, which were apart from my usual life as a wife, mother, piano teacher, and lonely person struggling with my health. In Tahoe I had an opportunity to make new friendships, explore a beautiful place, and create a life on my own. It was a time of determined optimism about my health and my spirituality reinforced by the support of others on a similar path.
It has taken awhile for me to accept that the health treatment that I pursued in Tahoe was flawed, that the relief from symptoms was temporary not only for myself but for most of the other people I met there. Our soaring optimism and highest hopes evaporated for each of us as our symptoms returned once we went home. I have pursued countless therapies that were dead ends but this one was particularly disappointing because the commitment was greater and the hopes so much grander. In retrospect I feel naïve to have been taken in by Doc Whitcomb and to have not done my research more thoroughly before embarking on such an adventure. And yet I cannot dismiss the experience altogether. The people I met and the place is etched in my memory and is a part of who I am today.
My quest for better health continues now on the most encouraging path yet as I experience recovery through Oral Systemic Balance. It’s a slow, steady process that requires a lot of patience but the quality of my life is definitely improving. I remain cautiously optimistic because there are no guarantees in this life. I am only sure that love survives and when one door closes another opens. The Tahoe door closed slowly with a mixture of sadness and longing like my memories of the sun setting over Mt. Tallac.
Go get the Atlas ProFlax for 250.00. The best thing for Fibro and you only have to have it done once.
Posted by: Cydney | March 09, 2009 at 01:47 PM
That's the spirit! Beautiful and inspirational essay. Thanks.
Posted by: Candia Smith | March 08, 2011 at 01:37 PM