Solomon's Hail: These past two years ... & then some

Checking my notebook I see that today is the 24th day since I ingested my first dosage of MMS, and unless I am corresponding from the other side of being (where you dear reader are also not yet to be marked present) then by all appearances I still (unofficially) do have a detectable pulse. So it is most certainly Hallelujah indeed. Why unofficially?, I hear you ponder. Well that is because I am not a Doctor of medicine and some of my recent interactions with 'white-coated' ones do not a smiley face make! But more about that later.

20th February - 24th day taking MMS. Thus far today has been a 9 drop per dose day. Having begun yesterday with 10 drops, which was a continuation of a dosage progression that started on the 15th, this pull-back in the amount of MMS I am taking is a response to the level of Herxheimer symptoms that I experienced yesterday. It was tough! The reaction was characterised by barely tolerable nausea felt in my head and stomach causing me to retreat to bed for hours at a time, only leaving for quick dashes to the bathroom! For anyone in need of pictures to accompany these words (I hope that you can pardon the upcoming poor bumbum pun) it was more like 'bottoms-bared-and-sluice-gates-open-for-all-sorts-of-bodily-waste-to-vacate-the-premises' than bottoms-up in toast to my steadily improving health outlook! But all in the best cause, so I soldier on

As I observe myself whilst taking MMS I have concluded that this level of reaction seems to be a cumulative. Yes, I still do sometimes experience the immediate need to pass urine after drinking MMS, but the aching head & toxic waste disposal appear to happen most frequently after a few doses. Hence I can see why the MMS Protocols - and medicine taking in general - require us to stick at it for a the better part of half a day. I do confess that I have rarely managed to adhere strictly to intervals or daily suggested number of doses, but i reassure myself that I am well on the way to being able to do so. Listening to my body and managing my regimes are key components of my efforts at recovering my health.

brb

Talking of 'white-coated ones', after last week I am even more bewildered than ever I was before! But before I get into that I just clocked that today would have been the commencement of my second full week of treatment courtesy the R&C therapy twins. No doubt you intelligent people understand that 'would have' indicates that I have managed to hold off on that for a while - not that the Doctors are at all happy!

My medical team's concern for me is just what someone in my position would hope for ... but for the fact that when talking to them I appear to have turned dumb and/or am opening my mouth whereupon shockingly unintelligible grunts come out.

Fact of the matter is that at this point in time, (very important that bit so I will repeat it) AT THIS POINT IN TIME I do not feel inclined to undergo the course therapeutic treatments they have lined up for me to eradicate and cure my cancer. And since it is not recommended to pull out of a course of radiotherapy/chemotherapy once started I opt for treatments that allow me to address my cancer diagnosis and enjoy the quality of life that I now have. Yes, tomorrow is a different matter and so I can been seen as somewhat of a gambler because I have been aware that the concern is that the proverbial "tomorrow" may prove to be too late.

Ah well Doctor, doctor can you hear me calling, calling ....

Having gotten that off my chest I feel inspired to mangle a well known proverb by way of uttering the immortal line, "A fool from his life is soon dearly parted!" <<< Only heaven knows where that foolishness came from but am sure that it accurately sums-up the learned opinions held by my medical team.

Well, last week's attendance for a 'second-opinion about my cancer turned out to be little more than a reiteration of all that I had heard before, plus a few answers to some new questions that I asked. I wasn't examined physically nor was I asked any questions about how I was! Nor was I asked to say a single thing about how my health had been progressing (n my unlearned opinion of course) Please do remember that I am not a Doctor! Thank you very much.

Afterwards, as I made my away from the hospital, I found myself musing upon the lack of physical contact between myself (as a patient) and the 'Doctor Professor. Naively perhaps, when I thought of a second opinion I imagined a situation in which the opinion giver seeks to provide input that is informed by BUT NOT SOLELY BASED UPON A REGURGITATION OF PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED & MENTIONED OPINIONS, OBSERVATIONS and even FACTS.

So yeah, I left the hospital shaking my head and in need of a good long sit-down with myself to mull things over. Maybe in a medical context such imaginings about the nature of a 'second-opinion' are like unto a patient, having tossed the one bit of survival kit overboard some miles back, taking a dive overboard into an ocean where death stalks, in order to clutch at straws. Ah what folly! Prevarication as Russian roulette being played-out upon the stage of a microscope. Showing-up disease determinedly marching toward the zenith of its 'countdown! Meanwhile the patient forlornly asks, "Doctor, Doctor can you hear me calling, calling ...."