When Grandpa was 91, he may have had a mini-stroke. He fell in
the cellar and couldn't get up. I ran for help, and neighbors assisted
me getting him up stairs and into his chair. He seemed all right.
But in the days that followed, he complained of a severe
headache, and then a mild fever. He was put into the hospital, where
he was given a soft neck collar. Although the nurses were
concerned about the intensity of the pain he seemed to sufferer, the
doctor in charge seemed quite cavalier. Tylenol was the only
medication prescribed and it didn't touch the pain.
Finally, I was so distressed at his suffering, I removed him to
see a chiropractor. Even my uneducated eyes could see a
misalignment. George experienced wonderful relief. Unfortunately,
he stumbled again and hurt his knee. It became so swollen and
painful, he had surgery on it to drain the infection. The surgery was
a short-term success, but mentally it looked like the end. The
family flew in for final good-byes. I hypnotized George and found
out that he felt this was a dead end. He had given up. When I
convinced him he was really going home, it was as though a light
bulb went on. The nurses were astonished at his recovery.
Upon his return home, his spirits were high. He began
working in his shop again. But the knee began to swell and get
infected once more. I suspect George's walking in an off-balance
way set up a secondary reaction, because he began to have neck
spasms again. These were excruciatingly painful. By then he was in
a nursing home, because I could no longer cope. Again, the doctor
in charge - as well as the nurses - felt the pain was "all in his head."
Although his personal doctor had prescribed narcotic injections
when indicated, none were ever given. Instead, George was given a
Tylenol and Valium. People were evidently afraid to make him a
drug addict with anything stronger. At 92!
His original chiropractor was unwilling to do neck
manipulations because he feared - and with good reason - he might
trigger a stroke and be liable.
When I learned from nursing home roommates with wits that
George was crying with pain at night, and my efforts to secure him
pain relief were met with stony indifference, I removed him to a
private home, where he could get individual and loving care. but the
intense pain continued, along with a great deal of fear and anxiety.
George was an excellent hypnosis subject, so I took him to
my friend, a medical hypnotist. At the time, MDMA was legal, so he
suggested that we use some to assist George in handling the pain
and hopefully to discover what lay behind it.
It was not easy to let George "let go," but finally, he
surrendered. His fall had been traumatic for him, because again and
again, it signaled lack of control. He had buried a great deal of
sorrow, because he had lost his first wife after 49 faithful years.
His second marriage at 88 had lasted only a year. His lovely bride -
the sweetheart of his youth - had succumbed to tongue cancer.
To permit these feelings to emerge was very cathartic. He was
lifted out of the body to experience complete pain relief and
association with those he held dear. It was a glorious experience for
him. With this experience to draw on, I found that I could hypnotize
him and have him leave his body at will. This permitted him to leave
any pain, but without narcotic stupor and/or separation.
One day, he said to me, "Jean, this is the first day since I was
born that I have no project for the day."
I responded, "then Dad, you probably should think about
checking out." I was never one to gild a lily.
George had a powerful stroke. The doctor babbled about
putting him into the hospital and this drug and that. I refused.
"What DO you want?" he asked testily.
I responded, "Demerol. To make him comfortable."
"And just how many milligrams?" he asked sarcastically.
I told him. His whole attitude changed. He said George could
have as much as he wanted. While I could lift George out of pain
with hypnosis, I couldn't always be there. I wanted a backup.
One day, George had a stroke as he was being massaged. The
facility phoned me, and I rushed over. He waited till got into the
room, and then he let go. Forever.
There is no way I can say how grateful I am for MDMA for
opening up a way to help George with his emotional and physical
pain. It was the first time this stiff necked, fearful old man had let go.
Nobody had ever seen before that hidden, beautiful, lovely soul.