When miraculous things happen, the first thing you want to do is share it. That's what I'm doing because I'm hoping that all who hear it will regain their sense of hope, re ignite their spark for life, and feel what it feels to be valued.
If you've been following my story, you will know that mine is part of a medical miracle. When it comes to your physical body you know the fear and worry that comes with it when you have an illness or injury. It helps to know that miracles happen.
How do I begin to share something so amazing in my life? Something that feels unbelievable coming from where I was? And to share it not because I gain somehow, but because I have such a belief and passion about the experiences that came to be that I think there is hope for others suffering. Well, I will attempt to begin to explain something so awe inspiring with what proves to be my clumsy tongue.
To make the story shorter and get to the good stuff, I will condense what happened into telling you that out of emergency I took a commonly prescribed steroid drug. I was one of what they say are few serious adverse reactions. After my experience, discovering they did not report my case to the FDA, and learning how many cases are NOT reported I beg to differ. I believe adverse reactions are more common than we know. But that is for another story.
My "adverse reaction" or body disagreeing with a toxic chemical intruding upon it was from the waist down. I had feeling but couldn't be touched. I had legs but couldn't use them. I could not move my joints because the muscles, ligaments, nerves, and joints were all affected. I could not stand for the feeling of crushing bearing down pain with every bit of pressure. A blanket laying across my legs was too much pressure, although I was feverishly cold. It felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to every bone in my legs and then told me to walk. I know people have lived before in tremendous amounts of pain and I don't begin to even attempt to compare myself to those people, but the pain of my experience was so excruciating it was above ten on the pain scale and I refused to add more toxin to my body in the form of pain meds which was the only solution the esteemed profession could offer me. It was simply to wait it out. The most i would take was Tylenol, Feverfew, White Willow Bark, and MSM, which would at least take the edge off. I thought it would be short lasting and yet the weeks went by and I spent June through into September in a wheelchair. I won't go in to the experience of it, the loss of dignity, independence, and pain I suffered or what my family endured while this was going on. Later, and I believe as the drug has been detoxing through the body, the inability and pain moved into my arms and hands. I was now almost entirely incapacitated. The time I have spent in my head, questioning God, looking for answers, trying to remain positive about it and searching for the lesson did change me, but what happened next left the Amanda I knew before coughing in the dust.
The compassion of people never ceases to amaze me. I know many people have been thinking about me. I know many have been praying for me, in ALL of the religions my friends come from. I have had amazing friends and healers work with me and for me and I had perfect strangers stop me and pray for me. I believe all of this had a cumulative effect. Maybe God said, okay, let's take notice what's going on with this squeaky wheel. Who knows. I don't believe I was/am anyone special to pay particular attention to but for whatever reason it became time for my voice to be heard, and now it's going to be.
I have a client who asked if he might present my case to a group of healers in Norway known for miraculous healing. I said of course, not because I had any particular belief, but because why not try anything? This same day I looked over my whole life so far and I asked if I died would I be happy with the person I'd been so far. Had I served well enough and I realized I would not be pleased with that. It wasn't fear of death, but fear that I hadn't served enough yet. Not to win merit, or win my way into heaven, but because that is what my heart longs to do. I was not happy with my answer and I looked over everything I had done and been. I asked myself, particularly about my writing, my books, and the number of books I have published which is one that I am passionate enough about that I feel everyone in the world needs to hear it. While I am proud of them, none of them maintained a lengthy passion enough for me to continue to invest in it once it's written. Nor, were any of the acts in my life so far. I asked, what have I done that has been of divine value enough for me to say my mission here was accomplished and I realized I hadn't been given that answer yet. I felt futile, devalued, worthless and didn't have a clue what it was I would get up and walk for. I had started using crutches more and more as ability was coming back but would cry for hours when I couldn't take the pain or frustration or hopelessness any longer. All while I was trying to remain "positive". I wondered what lesson I was missing.
Because the pain had moved into my arms and hands, it made writing, typing, and even holding the phone to push buttons to record incredibly painful. One day after my request for healing was made to the Norwegian healers, I awoke again with pain and stiffness, but as the day went on, I stood upright like a normal walker, used my arms, painted a wall, smiled, laughed, combed my own hair and many more tasks. I kept waiting for the pain to come back to the level I was used to where now I would call it a three. Feeling better, I immediately increased with fervor my practice of meditation and raising my vibration. Feeling so ill, I rarely did this because I didn't feel I was getting anywhere. During this time, I literally felt like my life was sweeping away from me. It was almost as if I could feel my soul leaving, because it knew I had no spark for life. Nothing interested me and while I would put on a good show inside, especially when the pain moved to my arms I didn't know if I would have the stamina to endure it and I was hard pressed to remain content. Content in my faith of healing and purpose, I remained as I was determined to have faith and learn and grow, but it was becoming more difficult.
But the pain never increased throughout the day and I was even able to remain in my own bed. That night, I felt almost as though there is a vibrational switch, and I suddenly felt connected again. I woke to 20 pages in my journal after being up all night WRITING! With my hands! Interestingly enough, all the questions I challenged God with during my interim seemed answered and I had such a feeling of deep understanding and "getting" the purpose of life. And it seemed so simple.
I am repairing my body now as the physical form took on, but I know the disease progression has stopped. I walk upright without assistance, don't feel the need to sleep the majority of the day, take care of my own personal needs and that of my family, complete projects, and feel joy. I can't explain how or why other than I know a miracle has taken place within me. I give the glory to our great Divine and have no doubt there is something larger than us. I feel passionate about my purpose as I see it now and I'm going to share my story any way I can. Both because I feel it is an unfair balance of the dangers of prescription drugs that we put our faith in and the encouragement to use them over having access to knowledge of other potential life saving treatments (keep in mind, I am not poo-pooing life saving medical necessary methods. There is a wisdom to knowing the difference) and I want to help educate on that and encourage education of possibility. But also, because there is an important message and answers to life's questions for those that seek them in the second part of my miracle. I will be writing on it, and I will be speaking on it. Name the date time and place and I will be there. Some experiences are just not meant to benefit only a single individual. There is a reason.