Healing Allergies: Big Bad Voodoo Doctor

I was present at E.’s first visit. This is significant because I was so close to having Baby O. In fact, I had already arranged that my parents would be helping with E.’s follow-up visits because I knew I wouldn’t be able to swing it after a C-section. But I wanted to be there and witness what it was this doctor did in her little clinic downtown.

And I can’t even begin to describe it. There’s a reason that all of her patients jokingly call her the voodoo doctor. Her methods? Effective? Yes. But make sense? Not to me. Not all of it.

And I have never been more aware of my own ignorance. After all, something that can cure allergies in a short amount of time without any invasive methods is significant. And yet I hadn’t heard much about such a thing in all my months of studying and attacking allergies.

This doctor uses muscle tests for allergies. She also uses a technique called Neurolink:

NEUROLINK’s philosophy is rooted in the neurophysiological principle that the brain governs optimum function of all the body’s systems. Unless the neurology {brain} is communicating appropriately with the physiology {body} a patient will never have complete wellness or recovery.

She did various other tests, and also chiropractic adjustments.

Her allergy testing revealed what I already knew, and then some. My trial-and-error methods of testing had worked, and I was correct in thinking him allergic to gluten, casein, soy, artificial everything. But she also discovered allergies to corn, chocolate, caffeine, and coffee. There were also environmental allergies like almond blossoms, citrus blossoms, and bee pollen. {Since we live within walking distance of a very large almond orchard, this was definite cause for concern.}

Other tests revealed mercury toxicity {something I had suspected}, a virus, candida overgrowth, and a need for a chiropractic adjustment.

On that first day, all the environmental allergies were cleared, and we were sent home with a homeopathic follow-up protocol for those. In addition, she detoxed the mercury {still not sure how that works}, taught his brain to fight the virus using a blood sample and something that looked like acupressure that also utilized a laser, and came up with a protocol of supplements to use in fighting the yeast.

His tics were shortly back under control because I knew what additional foods to remove from his already strict diet. For two days after, he was quite tired, something I had been informed could happen as his body cleared out the dead virus. After that, his energy levels began to soar {this was a six-year-old who still required very long afternoon naps every day}.

A couple weeks later, he returned {my mom took him, I think}. The other food allergies had disappeared as his health had radically improved.

I was shocked.

And it bothered me that she hadn’t had to do anything. I didn’t trust it. I didn’t have any faith. And so I did what came naturally: I fearfully continued to avoid all the foods to which he had been allergic. Slowly, we introduced one food. And then another.

I was shocked that there were no reactions of any kind.

Soon, he was eating everything. He had one setback along the way, and that was a severe tic reaction to some oatmeal we had purchased. We crammed some of it into a plastic container and sent him to the doctor, who cleared the allergy on the same day. The next day, we served the oatmeal again, and he ate it without reactions.

I am still trying to wrap my mind around this. I actually requested a book list from the doctor. How could something this effective be virtually unknown in our culture? More importantly, how does it work? Why does it work? That is a question I plan to get answered in 2009 if I can find these books and read them.

Ironically, this doctor shares a building with an allergist. The last time I was there, I saw a young mother bringing in a couple boys. I cringe at the thought that they are probably receiving painful weekly allergy injections, like my sister did when we were young. If this mother turned left instead of right when she entered the building, the health of her children would probably be recovered within one or two visits.

As E. began to eat bread and cheese and popcorn and all the food previously forbidden, his little sister looked quietly on with sadness in her eyes. Unlike E., A. does not have tic reactions. Instead, she gets painful stomach aches. Over time, she developed the inattentive subtype of ADD, which basically means she sat around sucking her thumb, almost completely lethargic.

For almost a year, I had mistakenly labeled her “cuddly,” failing to realize that it is not normal for a two-year-old to spend many hours sitting around doing nothing.

When I had removed foods like wheat and milk from her diet, and added supplements that I had spent hours researching, her energy levels had greatly increased and she had an explosion of vocabulary and other intellectual development {she had been behind before this}. But she still couldn’t eat these things without stomach pain.

She looked at me hopefully. We call our doctor Doctor Linda. A. would say over and over, “When I go Doctoh Winda, I eat cheese? When I go Doctoh Winda, I eat bwed (bread)? Doctoh Winda feel me better!” She couldn’t wait for her chance, which ended up coming along much sooner than we expected.