Blog: Plant Your Dream!
by YourEnchantedGardener

My health history

Draft my health history

Date:   1/15/2019 7:24:52 AM   ( 63 d ) ... viewed 277 times




https://www.curezone.org/upload/Blogs/Your_Enchanted_Gardener/1BB5E15F_07D1_4ECA_A180_B8F4FD234DAA.jpeg

this photo, around June 2018, was taken the chemo infusion center at Ucsd La Jolla. I went in for two pints of blood after bleeding for 12 days from Hematuria. Iit was a revelation being there and watching the popularity of Chemo. The words are a quote from an ally of the &0’s, Mark Victor Hansen. Setting a time for 2019.

####

First Draft
January 14, 2019

I came away from #ScrippsNatSup conference, for me January 10-13, very inspired and wanting to write my health history. I will be expanding this post and including it in my book #LovingTogether that will include my 60s-70s health history.

The book, Rekindling of Faith written in the 80s, shares my food addiction issues. Aiming toward Academy of Integrative Health & Medicine - AIHM annual conference October 12-16, 2019 to have both books out. Sponsors are helping and you are invited to support producing my @A History of Peace on Earth—#Leslie Goldman Legacy Writing.
https://m.facebook.com/LeslieGoldmanLegacyWritings/

Join #EnchantedGardenClub here now to show support. Use PayPal here: http://plantyourdream.net/?page_id=16019

Jan 14, 2019 writing:
Expanded version in process here:
https://www.curezone.org/blogs/fm.asp?i=2420173

——

I imagined when I was in college that I would graduate and become a world class popular journalist. Nature, my soul, and symptoms of arthritis—that wasn’t given a name till my later college years, had something else in mind.

In those days of the late 60’s, the term psychosomatic was thought to be a disease. Those were before the Holistic movement let us know that body, mind, and spirit were interconnected. Something as traumatic as a mother dying of cancer, that moved from the breasts to her hips, may have influenced the way I walked a few years later. I was 12 years old when she died. By 15, I was showing signs of problems in my own hips.

At 17, I remember feeling like an object, rather than a person as I was asked to lay on the cold cement of the Hospital floor in my underwear. A room full of doctors discussed by case as if I wasn’t in the room.

When I was 17, doctors weren’t at all sure what was wrong with me so they injected me with some kind of drug so that I would blabber and more easily tell the truth.

Early on, as a young teen, my bones showed up as somewhat much older. Every time I went through a major life transition such moving from one school to a different school I would freeze up to the point of being crippled. It was my hips where I first showed this freezing up.

Finally at UCLA in 1969, someone named me with Anglyosin Spondylitis, a form of arthritis, ten years after I started to walk funny.

In between those bouts of crippledness, I had many adventures. I had a job in Watts for six months while I was at UCLA. I was the token white person riding atop a fire engine in the Watts Parade and guiding black teens to a plot of soil where we were suppose to do weeding.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I met Dr. Bernard Jensen ten years before 1972. As the American father of iridology, he had the skill to look into the iris of my eye and tell me what organs were inherently weak, what to eat, and what lifestyle shifts I needed.

I met Dr Bernard Jensen right after college. He invited me to live at his Hidden Valley Health Ranch In the mountains above Escondido, California. Rather than enter journalism as a career, my extreme physical need—the arthritis—brought Dr Bernard Jensen to my attention.

The ranch was located in a pristine natural setting. Under his care,
he fed me supplements for nine months until in the heat of summer, he fasted me on water for two weeks. My gait entirely shifted, and I walked like a new man until I went up to LA, dropped down into family of origin energy, and stiffened up again.

It was through a guest who came to visit the ranch—Ellen—that I found my place in the city of San Diego. She introduced me to an eccentric named Harpo, who had a storefront on Ventura Place, across from the Belmont Park roller coaster on Mission Beach.

The first time I lived with Harpo was in 1974. I would spend time there and at the ranch. I attempted another fast while at Harpos, and learned a person can only fast so many times. Ten days on water, I broke a fast on an organic Pizza.

I’d been seeing conventional orthopedic doctors who recommended hip replacements.

I was so into natural healing that I walked away from hip replacements three times, until after the fasting attempt at Harpos, my hips began to freeze completely.

I returned to Dr Bernard Jensen’s ranch in 1975, but nothing he could do helped. It was as if I was intended to have other life experiences other than heal without surgery.

At Dr Jensen’s ranch in 1975, l lost my ability to walk. My hips completely locked. I could not spread my legs apart more than 1/4 inch.

I was still looking for a miracle cure. A chiropractor, Dr John Lully, a man I met at Harpos, heard about a psychic surgeon in Rosarita Beach, south of Tijuana, who was said to do miracles.

Feliciano was a sixth generation psychic surgeon who had the belief system and the gift to stick his hand three inches inti the body and remove tumors.

Dr Lully drive me in my van to see him. I ended up staying with Feliciano for a month at the Rosarita Beach hotel where he was seeing patients.

A man named Stuart Wheelwright Sr found me there lying on a mattress at the Rosarita Beach Hotel. Wheelwright was there to meet Feliciano too. He was convinced I would get benefit from visiting a hot springs in Utah called Stinky Springs. Stuart Wheelwright set me up in a trailer there. I had a driver to Utah, who stayed with me for a while at the hot springs, but he finally left me. I finally ended up stranded in the snow of Winter 1975.

It was Pauline Tapp of Ogden Utah who wondered why I was so positive in spirit yet could not spread my legs more than 1/4 inch apart. I was so stuck my feet were turning blue by that time. She named me Bubbles, and took me home. Her son had a tendency toward depression. She wanted me to influence him.

Nine months later, my hips were replaced in Salt Lake City University Hospital. When Christina the nurse greeted me following my first surgery, she offered me morphine. I refused all drugs and managed my pain with Peach Bark Tea, a formula Mrs Cook learned from a local Indian named Sundance. Did you know that Peach Bark brewed one way was a pain killer? Another way of prep and it had an entirely different effect. Oh, we have so much to learn.

On a day off, Christina came to visit. We talked and she knit. We drank tea from a clean metal urinal. It was the closest thing the hospital had to a teapot.

Another nurse, Mryleen, said she has a dream where I was running down the street followed by a cart with stuffed animals. They kept falling out and I would pick them up.
The Dream is not too far off these days. I often travel with a cart filled with heirloom squash dresses in baby dresses.

I has two hip surgeries ten days apart in 1975. One day, able to walk again pushing an apparatus for support, I made it up to the nurses station where I watched silently. The same nurses I knew as familiar support, were talking science lingo.

I was awed by their brilliance.

Following surgeries, I then went on to the Temple Gardens Convalescent rest home where I took PT in an atmosphere of screaming elders, some later carried out in body bags. At 25, I already experienced convalescent home living.

Three months later I had no idea where I would go next, but my father figure Harpo welcomed me back to San Diego and basically turned over the creative management of his little health food store/restaurant to me.

I inherited a whole family of hippy types at my bid and calling, and drivers for my Vw van.

Aw Harpos! If we heard rumors of a yellow cherry tree growing in the Beaumont/Hemet area, off we went picking. If we heard of a Mountain stream at the top of Palomar mountain, off we went with glass gallons to fill.

It was 1976. I was now walking without crutches. I heard that Feliciano was seeing patients in Tecate, México.

I went to see him again.
When we pulled up, he was on the street and greeted me. He was a most gentle passionate humble soul. He saw I was no longer on crutches and gave me a bear hug. He was so happy to see me and poured his love into me.

When he worked on me in 1974, I never saw him work, but now he invited me to work along side him.
The patients came in droves, one following another.

I was indelibly moved as I watched him enter bodies without causing pain and remove tumors. There was some bleeding. Then, he would close what In western medicine would have been a wound. There was some bleeding. He had me burn the bloodied tissue paper in a fireplace.
I was so moved by this experience that I went back to Harpos spiritually transformed.

I wrote; God is as real as mother, apple pie, and Chevrolet.

When I saw Feliciano in 1974, before I went to Utah, he had given me his bible. He told me to walk everyday. Now, back at Harpos, I would take my bible for a walk every day.

Harpo, quite the heathen at times, was so moved by my devotion, that he became a Christian and blamed me for his transformation. He transferred his zest for life to religion. He would call for prayer circles, hand in hand, in front of our storefront. Our circles interfered with the sidewalk passers. The neighbors became incredibly uncomfortable as he would “knock” out prayers to Jesus and we bowed our heads. It wasn’t long after he received an eviction notice.

That street where we lived was called Ventura Place. The address was right next to Hamels that rented bikes, etc. we were right off the boardwalk. I am sorry to say. I lost Harpo to religion zealousness.
When I put out the screenplay or book, I will likely include some of his letters of devotion to the God he knew. I would like to see the short street called Ventura Place renames Harpos Place. Such a story of a wild man, who saved my life and so many others, deserves to be noted.

So what happened to Feliciano? He was asked to leave Mexico. He moved to San Diego, but no longer did psychic surgery openings, although this was his skill. The modern medical view had no place for him. His work could not be peer reviewed science.

Here is one more anecdotal story.
In Spring 1980, I was consumed organizing a Spring Equinox Celebration called Rock Your Soul. William Aura, was the primary music coordinator. A day or so before the event, William had his contact lens stuck behind his eye ball. He was in excruciating pain. What could he do? He went to friend Bill Helm of the Taoist Sanctuary. Bill attempted to physically remove the contact lens but could not do this. Then William went to see Feliciano. Feliciano apparently demanifested the contact lens. It never came out.
The show went on without a hitch. Willism had no pain.

It wasn’t long after that Feliciano died in the Hospital, likely of a broken heart.

Oh Harpo! Oh Feliciano! Oh Life!
How precious you are.

More to come on this #PlantYourDreamBlog
https://www.curezone.org/blogs/fm.asp?i=2420173

Posted 11:00 pm
January 14, 2019

Corrected some typos
January 18, 2019

#####

Some Expansion of above



I imagined when I was in college that I would graduate and become a world class popular journalist. Nature, my soul, and symptoms of arthritis—that wasn’t given a name till my later college years, had something else in mind.

In those days of the late 60’s, the term psychosomatic was thought to be a disease. Those were before the Holistic movement let us know that body, mind, and spirit were interconnected and something as traumatic as a mother dying of cancer in the hip when I was 12, could influence the way I walked a few years later.

I remember feeling like an object lying on the cold cement of the Hospital floor in my underwear as a room full of doctors discussed by case as if I wasn’t in the room.

The doctors weren’t at all sure what was wrong with me for many years.
First signs of something off began showing up when I was 15.

I graduated from high school on crutches. My birth father was absent, traveling far away to see if he could find and bring home my stepmother who left one day in a rage.

What was wrong with me?

One of the doctors diagnostic tools was injecting me with some kind of truth serum so that I would blabber and more easily reveal my inner truth.

All I knew was that my bones showed up as somewhat much older than my age even at 15 and that throughout those teen years, ever time I went through some major life transition,such as going from one school to a different school, I would freeze up to the point of being crippled.

As soon as I entered college, no less than a month into
My freshman year, I froze up so badly that I landed in the hospital for weeks.

During those three junior college years, I found my first healthy male role models. I was already in journalism studies.

The year was 1965, and the war in Vietnam was happening. I entered college in September 1965 and my March of 1966,, the gymnastics team coach, Rat Follosco, made me manager of the team as well as their events reporter for our newspaper.

His great laugh is with me now as I remember his tremendous human kindness and care for me and the team.

By June 1966, the war in Vietnam was happenenig. There was a post opened as Commussioner of men’s athletics and I accepted the job. I was to serve

#######




A RESPONSE TO A FRIEND STUCK IN THE COLD IN MA DEALING WITH SURGERY


Thinking of you Helen. Read your reply to my post about the Heal Trailer snd summit today.

I agree that things begin deeper than the mind.

Life to be is about Soul Growth, and the mind is something that works in my behalf at times, and other times my thoughts I think are detrimental to my whole being, but my soul dictates at times my choices.

Today is January 17, 2019.

I am putting pressure on myself to make some progress with moving along the Circus story. The publisher is a friend.

I came away from the #scrippsnatsup conference with a major healing.

I was bleeding—Hematuria for five days before the conference started and wasn’t sure I was going to make it.

The bleeding stopped the day before. The bleeding did not come out of nowhere. I’ve had clearer urine than in numbers of years from believing in a plant that has a lot of life force and grows in my yard. I eat it.

I don’t think my genetics are that strong. My mother died of cancer around 52. My grandmother? Her mom, I do not know how old she was when she died. May I was pre/teen.

I don’t think the genes on my dads side were that strong either.

On the dad’s side, they had intense belief in God and this was likely a factor in my dad’s long life to 94.

I’m 71 now and my diagnosis was August 2017 of Renal Cell Carcinoma. Then, I broke my back in March 29, 2018 in a vehicle accident that might have been easily avoided.

I made the most of the opportunity to be in the hospital. I was their for 12 days.

Being in relationship with Adrienne has been a major factor in my healing. She literally had my back for the three weeks following the misdiagnosed back condition. Initial ER visit did not see the break.

I would not presume to tell you what you could do to improve your condition or life.

I know what helps me to an extent.

I like what Rob Wergin teaches about millions of cells born each day-new cells—that await marching orders and direction.

There are days I am stressing and likely misdirecting those new cells and other days I have powerful experiences and I consciously love my cells and life.

I look to be responsible as best as possible for the part of my life I create.

I do believe there are energies in the universe more powerful than my genes or environment. I am constantly on my cell phone writing and this is not a healthy factor.

I would not have my back covered by Adrienne if I had not benefited from many painful experiences of learning from past relationships.

I very much crossed a frontier of healing at the #ScrippsNatSup jan 19-13, 2019.

The breakthrough of being welcomed to read a poem at the opening and closing came directly from Actions I took during the back break.

For me, it is not what happens to me but what I make of the opportunity.

I reached out to Mimi while I was in the hospital and she called me back.

I have been feeling under expressed and processing related emotions to not being on stage in the venue IF AIHM for years.

I see my Integrative medical tribe twice a year, including the #scrippsnatsup each January when AIHM is also active.

While in the hospital last April 25-may 6, 2018 for the back break, on top of the RCC Diagnosis, i asked Mimi to let me read my poem on stage. She said that if I made it to September, she would definitely put me on stage to read my poem.

Adrienne and I were in NorCal until September 23 and Mimi invited us to be her guests at the AIHM Gala hundreds of miles away by September 26, 2018.

We arrived a few hours before the event in a rental vehicle. My van was still out of commission awaiting a new engine.

Mimi made my poem part of the centerpiece of the closing ceremony. She had six people read parts of the poem. I read the opening and closing of the poem.

That was a milestone. That was the first time I was at that mike.

I feel I have much to give to the medicine community. Feeling under expressed is a cancer cause factor for me.

This January, the organizer of the #scrippsnatsup reached out to me with an invite via email.

That was new.

Mimi values my #PlantYourDream ritual work and I made the effort to show up to her pre-conference workshop.

We planted dreams there with the group.

Then, the next day, at the conference, she decided to open with my #SacredSeed prayer. She planned to read it. At the last minute, she asked me to read the poem.

I got feedback from a number of practitioners that they appreciated starting this peer-reviewed medical conference with seed planting.

I asked to read a poem at the end of the conference, but was ok with that not happening.

There do not end with a Closing ceremony. She did call me up and I read a poem that I did many times on stage since the 80s.

I came out of the conference very inspired.

Meredith, the organizer, also gave us a spot in the foyer to do #PlantYourDream.

There was a day I felt depressed because I was spent from the long hours and getting up early to be there crosstown.

part one
6:46 am

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