To Wheat Or Not To Wheat?

 To Wheat Or Not To Wheat? That is my question.

 I have been making whispers lately about anoxic brain injury (ABI) following post-cardiac arrest, and a similarity with autistic conditions - especially Asperger's Syndrome.
Honestly, I am as fully unqualified to speak about this, as I am fully convinced that I have EXACTLY the same "Asperger experience" as a pre-school boy whom I know quite well. (Yes, as unqualified a "quack" as I may be, I have assumed the diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome for both him and me. And I am not ashamed.)

Here's a link to to a description of Asperger's:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome

  It's becoming quite a common occurrence and you may want to read up on it. Maybe some child in your life, or in your own past, wasn't as much a "behavior problem" as you were led to believe. I have found access to a nursing course on this subject and I am trying to learn what I can. However, my own ABI makes this learning difficult for me, especially in the areas of memory retention, and the motivation to even do it at all. At the same time, I feel so fiercely determined to get this accomplished that you might say I'm becoming obsessed with it.
So, the likeness of Asperger's is asserting itself.

  Why is this important to me? Because in addition to wanting to rescue our little children from what seems to be a coming plague, I'd like to know that there is a definite way to treat ABI. For four years, I've been limping along like a Civil War soldier after the surrender. My own battle began with a Sudden Cardiac Arrest, when I was snatched up by Death, like a mouse in the talons of a Dark Owl. It was a surprise attack - viscious, too - and my response could not have been wimpier. It just took me... and took my life away. The fight began weeks later when I arose alive from my hospital bed to return home the winner, but terribly injured and bruised. When my heart had stopped, I was left with a brain injury from lack of oxygen.

  So, before this short writing becomes an "encyclopedia", let me bring us back to the title, and the reason for the word "Wheat" being so prominent.
Wheat contains a lot of life-sustaining protein. I suppose it keeps half the world alive. There is hardly a place in our human body where this protein isn't vitally important. In wheat, this protein is a two-part protein and is usually called "gluten" [GLOO-tin]. Rice has gluten as do other grains, but they are not of wheat's "double variety".

  Apparently, something about this vitally important wheat-gluten is becoming a digestive issue with the children of our species. When it isn't processed normally, in the intestines, it gets into the blood and causes havoc with the body. The main feature of this is problems with BRAIN functions. In other words, it can provoke mood changes, disrupt thought patterns, and even lead to seizures. For some, with Celiac Disease, it can be deadly. Thankfully, I am not troubled with that.

  It's just that this little boy I know, and love more than my own life, has apparently been harrassed by this bully named Gluten for a long time. When problems with behavior became intolerable, and seizure activity became visible, his parents, wisely and bravely, removed as much wheat-gluten from his diet as possible. With them, I am learning to make bread and other good things without the wheat-gluten. Let me just tell you that his behavior has improved so much that it's hard to believe he has been only one child through it all. His good ol' self is becoming visible, again. It's startling that it hasn't taken years, nor even months, for this positive change to take place... but the improvement was obvious in a matter of days. After four to six weeks, it's looking like wheat-gluten isn't the bully that many are saying it is. Something else has caused underlying problems, of which we are not yet aware. But one thing is ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN - wheat-gluten cannot be tolerated by his personality. In other words, he needs the life-giving protein but can't live with it. So for now, it's strange breads and even stranger trips to the grocery store; hunting for, and gathering, "safe foods" for him to eat. But happily, he is regaining the once healthy appetite which he had completely lost. And not a day too soon, either, because he has become "skinnier" over time and the effect of under-nutrition on body organs can't be good.

  We hope that the health professionals we will be seeing soon, can remove this impediment to his happiness.

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New Group On Facebook - "Surviving Cardiac Arrest"

 I have started a new group on Facebook, called "Surviving Cardiac Arrest".
It is for the survivors of a sudden cardiac arrest and/or their loved ones.
Anyone left behind by the passing away of a survivor is always welcome.

If you are curious about the group, or would like to join, please read my statement to new members. It is posted on my other blog:


http://SurvivingCardiacArrest-rturri.blogspot.com/

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On My Birthday

 Today, on my birthday, I'd like to give to my friends my best wishes, thoughts and prayers. (You know who you are!)

 I have little else in this world but I have time, and I have some friends. Nothing can be gained that is more worthwhile; and nothing can be lost that is more regretful.

 To my friends, I wish the very best to you and I pray that your needs will be met, your desires fulfilled, and that your Hearts will be filled with happiness.

  As for me, I am grateful for you. Thank you for being my friends.

  Bob

King Johnny and the Koo-Koo Horse

 Sometimes, my stories don't end the way they started. This one won't.

 To begin, I want to tell you what Johnny, the 'Little Big Guy', said to me today. He is my 3 1/2 year old grandson. He is deeply into making up stories about Super-Heroes and Bad Guys. I guess his old Pa helped him get started on that! (heh, heh) I named myself "Pa" because it was easy for him to pronounce. And I had always heard that great people say,"I don't care what they say about me, as long they get my name right!" Well, I wanted to be great in my grandson's eyes.

 So, today he was King Johnny, the Giant King who chases away Bad Guys! He had an old straw hat for a Crown; and his mother's "Huggie"* was his robe. Leopard spotted!

*A wearable blanket for cold nights, and for watching TV.

 He was off to chase Bad Guys through the house with my car keys, that doubled as some sort of evaporator gun. I, of course, was in trouble and in dire need. My barn was a wreck and all my animals were running around loose!

 He asked,"Who did it, Pa?" And I told him; "It was a terrible, giant horse named "Koo-Koo Horse"! He was crazy-mad and he kicked my barn over, right on its side!" Then, King Johnny held up those super-powered car keys and said, "I'll get him for you!"

 We agreed, as we usually do, that instead of hurting Koo-Koo Horse, we would win him over to our side. That way, we could add him to our army of trusted 'sidekicks', and they would help us to chase away all the Bad Guys.

 OK. So much for the story. He wanted me to get up from the couch and follow him around the house at high speed. But I was very tired from not having slept the night before and worst of all, my umbilical hernia, now about the size of a golf ball, was REALLY sore. I told him I had to rest a while. He asked, "Why?" So, I told him that "Pa is getting older. When we get older, we get tired and we have to stop and rest once in a while. That's just the way it happens, Johnny."

 Now, I was afraid I would lose substance in his eyes by telling him that, but
may I tell you what he then said to me? Yes... I'll tell you.

 He walked slowly toward me, after pondering my comments for half a minute or so, and wrapped his little arms around my neck and hugged me. He was pouting and I thought that he might start crying. Then he said,"I don't care if you get older. I will still love you just as much Pa, even if you get older and older and older, because you will still be the same guy!"

 Then he gave me a big kiss on the cheek. I returned it with my patented
Grampa-Saur Bear Hug. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't want me to let go.

  He's getting to an age where affection takes on a more subtle form. Soon, we will be reduced to poking fun, little shoulder punches, hand-crushing handshakes, or maybe just a high-five. But, "I love you!" is still "I love  you!" And today, for a few healing moments, it was just like "yesterday" all over again - before he got to be such a big old three year old.

 Now, his own Daddy, years ago, would tell me; "I don't care what happens, Dad. We will ALWAYS be together because we're stuck like glue!"

 Well, today when his Daddy got home from work, Johnny told him what he had said to me. (Yeah, I prodded him a little to do that!) For a long moment, his Daddy stood still, and silent. His face was lost in time. His eyes were turned upward and toward the right side of his brain. He seemed to be questioning himself, while half smiling. Was he remembering something in his past?

 I remained silent, but my heart wanted to ask my son,"What happened to your glue? Did it get weak? Did it dry up? Or did it just grow old? Did I let you
down, somehow, three years ago when I died and left you in shock, in that silent, sterile emergency room all night long? Told that I came in dead, that I
wouldn't make it through the night? Did it change how you felt about me, seeing me turn blue-grey, seeing me covered with ice and a freezing blanket? Seeing me in a coma, in the ICU, being kept alive by a heart pump and a ventilator?

 I was once YOUR Super-Hero. Did I now appear weak and fallible to you? Were you becoming ashamed of me during the next month, when I didn't know who I was, or where I was? Did I lose all my credibility in your eyes, that day when I wanted to leap off of the hospital rooftop to save a pigeon from a hawk? Imaginary as you thought it was, there was a day when you admired me for that sort of thing.

 Today, it's YOUR little son running around the house in a silly costume, saving his Kingdom from "Koo-Koo Horse"! But you look so proud! And you're playing the game right along with him, and he's looking up to you - to see what he must become.

 So, how is that different from my saving a pidgeon from a hawk? Imaginary or
not, my motive came from my heart. My heart that was alive - then dead - and
then alive again!
 What a game that is! And talk about an adventure! Your very own Dad defeated Death! Had you become so practical, so much the engineer, so "grown-up", that you lost all respect for me?

 I admit that at first, in the battle of Life vs Death, I lost! So does everyone. So will you. So will little Johnny. And his little brother, Andrew. So do we all.

  But I promised you when you were just a little Billy, that if I had to, I would
come back from the dead to help you. And there you were... a new marriage; a new career; friends losing their jobs all around you; with a seven week old,
brand new baby boy in your arms; and a 57 year old babysitter, available if you needed me.

 And what did I do but die on you? Just when you really needed me. (Even if you didn't think you did.)

 BUT DAMN! If I DIDN'T COME BACK!

 Didn't I promise you that I would?

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Originally published by me on Wednesday, August 10, 2011 at 10:38 am

"I will still love you just as much Pa,
even if you get older and older and older,
because you will still be the same guy!"
King Johnny

Yes, I will... and you will always be the same Johnny, to me!
If I can just live that long...


1 comments:
Tree said...

    WOW! I feel as if I was right there in the room with you! Here's hoping we
    can all keep, or get back, that child-like perspective and unconditional
    love. Johnny is MY HERO! :)

Angels in the Office

 Dental pain is not new to me but doing something about it is. And I'd like to
tell you why, and what I'm doing about it. That might be interesting.The best
part of this article, though, is the part about Angels.

 First, let me ask: Do you believe in Angels? I sure do. You who know me, know that I had a sudden cardiac arrest in 2008, and that I had a remarkable
spiritual experience to go with it. It was complicated, so I'll just say, for now, that I died and was in the presence of an Angel. Many people have said that.
That's not new. I'm wondering though, for the first time, if some people, here
on Earth, are truly Angelic. I don't mean that they are "nice", or "good looking", or fit the religious descriptions of Angels. I'm actually asking if people can become Angels; if they might have an "Angelic DNA", so to speak, and so become full Angels in a future time. If it's possible, is there evidence?

 Well, to get back to the dental part of this, I suppose that if some people can
be Angels, then some others can be Devils. (It's easier to believe in Devils,
isn't it?) I know of a dentist who may have been one!

 I met him a long time ago - back around 1985. I had an abscessed tooth just
below the right side of my nose. Yep, that's where it really hurts. It hurt so
much that I couldn't think straight. I didn't know whether to punch myself in
the head or just pee in my pants and cry. It hurt that much. I went out to find
a dentist.

 The only one who would take me on a late Friday afternoon, "tested" my tooth repeatedly with some electrical device that looked like the stun guns of today. I sat absolutely mummified in his chair as he shocked my tooth! Over and over again, each time turning up the power. As I said, I wasn't thinking straight at the time or I never would have allowed that. I called it off after about a dozen shocks and then he informed me that no dentist would see me so late on Friday, or on the weekend - EXCEPT for one dentist with whom he had once been a professional partner.

 I was in so much pain that I had to accept the referral. I didn't understand,
though, why he wouldn't give me some novacaine or an antibiotic, but he wouldn't. He made an appointment, in my name, for the next day. And that is when I met the Devil. Maybe I should say, the "other Devil".

 Doctor B, seemed very reluctant to see me on a Saturday, but he did. He gave me an anesthetic and said my teeth would have to be cleaned before he could do a root canal. I believed that, too. His assistant did the "cleaning" with some
sort of hand-held laser device. She was not kind. That device HURT like hell.
Tooth after tooth. She said that the plaque had to be removed from the gum line and that was the easiest way to do it. After a long time, she was finished.



 Then came the root canal. It took forever. He "had to" do it three times, each
time starting over again. Now, I should tell you that I have long roots, some of
them kind of twisted. Before Dr. B had finished, he had pushed his little needle-drill way past the tooth and, I believe, right into a sinus opening. I left his office thinking that my tooth would never hurt again. I was wrong. It was
infection after infection. Pain and more pain. I swore I would never go to
another dentist and I didn't, not until 25 years later - which was a few days
ago - which brings us to the Angels.

[I want to tell you that Doctor B, without any action on my part, was arrested
a couple of months later. He was being watched by the FBI, IRS, and who knows who else. He tried to run away to Germany with tens of thousands of dollars in cash, many "doctored" patient records, and false insurance claims. Doctor B was a Busy B, wasn't he? Well, the FBI did arrest him, it was in the newspapers, and I hope he was sentenced to Life in Heaven, because he would have only felt at home in Hell.]

 So, on with the story. A few weeks ago, some teeth in my upper left jaw began to hurt - a lot. Now, my teeth are in VERY bad shape, as you can imagine. Since Doctor B, I have had one painful infection after another and eight or nine teeth eventually broke apart - down to the gums. I'm not kidding, folks, it's bad. Not to mention discolor, etc. As I said to the dental assistant, "I don't want you to look in my mouth. It's a junkyard in there!"

 Once again, pain had brought me to a dentist. I hoped it would be better this
time, but I wasn't going to put up with ANY nonsense. Now, I'm 60 years old, fat but strong, kinda crabby, and not the type to scare easily. I was afraid of this dental appointment, though. I walked into the office, expecting to be greeted by a squinty-eyed Doberman with a bow in her hair. But guess what?

I MET AN ANGEL!

 Yes, I am sure of it! She looked at me and sent some kind of pain-relieving
compassion into my heart, and from there, straight up to my teeth. I actually
felt relaxed as I filled out the patient history form. That's something I hate to
do, because too many questions are invasive and unrelated. But not this form. It was friendly and respectful.

 Then, when I gave that back, another young woman greeted me and took me to the exam room. She was like the first one - calm, friendly, sympathetic, and if I may say so, quite pretty. But there was something about her manner that wasn't quite "normal". She was calming me just by being near me. (That's a change.)
 Maybe she was just charming me into trusting the dentist, who was about to enter the room. I've always been a sucker for a charm. But I actually did trust the dentist when he appeared. After what I'd been through, I'd have to call that a real Miracle, and "normal" people don't do real Miracles. The Doctor looked at my ughhh-leee teeth and never even flinched. It was as if he'd seen it all before. He made an appointment for me to return and get the work started. (Demolition, really.)

 Ok, so I returned two days ago, and was met by another Angel. She may have been the same Angel from days before, but I was so dazzled that I couldn't really tell. On this day, I was to meet with another Doctor in the office. First, of course, I was met by HIS Angel, who led me to the chair that most of us have hated at one time or another, but not this time. I don't know what power she had over me, but I just flowed into that chair like thick paint, and she could have melted me like butter. But I suspect she doesn't turn it up full-blast for simple tooth extractions. Actually, it was to be two teeth pulled, and two roots dug out from below the gumline. She was amazing and I was calm.

 Then, the Doctor came in and I immediately felt a trust unknown to me for 25 years. Not only trust in a dentist, but trust in a Man. He talked a little as he went to work. He was so willing to use as much anesthetic as I needed, that I thought I had won the lottery. To be honest, there were a few "pinches" now and then, but that is all. I never would have believed that four in a row could be that easy! But it was easy. All the while, I had my hands folded over my chest like a man in a casket (just in case). Each time the Doctor gave me more anesthetic (by needle), she would put her hand on mine until he was done. I've never heard of that being done before. I'm telling you now, that there was some kind of power from her hand that kept me still. (Ok, so my right foot was jerking around a little. I'll admit that.) And time seemed to go by so quickly. I mean quickly. It felt like 20 minutes and then we were done, but of course it was much longer. Another thing to ponder: did she make time disappear?

 I can't believe I'm saying this, but I didn't want to leave that room. The doctor could have taken out every tooth, my jaw bone and a few ribs, and I wouldn't have complained. They both were fantastic! Was he an Angel, too? Why not? He and the other Doctor, both had the same calming qualities and no doubt chose the assistants who would work with them.

 So, this is where the story usually ends, but there's a little more. I still
had to pay the bill and make the next appointment. I walked out to the front desk, and to my surprise, more Angels! I'm not kidding! I really have this deep
feeling that I have fallen in among a bevy of Angels! They may not be fully
actuated, but in time they will be. They were so friendly and cheerful and most of all, compassionate - and they displayed that compassion, too.

 You may not believe any of this, but please don't forget... I died a few years
ago, and was guided by a real Angel. Yes, it really happened - no matter what
your religious ideas, or lack of them. So today, I know Angels when I'm in their presence, and I was in their presence. If you ever meet them, their names are Sharla, Meggen, Jessica and Kris. I spotted a few more floating around the office, too. (Not Angel names, you say? How can we know that?)

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Originally posted by me on Friday, September 2, 2011 at 1:27 pm


 I have acknowledged the good people mentioned above, in my page called "Good Things".

If I've led you to believe that this world is now free of evil, then let me
share this private information with you: my dental bill, so far, shows a
"balance due" of $666.00!

 As they say, the "Devil is in the details."

Sad Little Puppy

 This I read today:

 [A wise old man once said, "There comes a time in your life, when you walk away
from all the drama and the people who create it. You surround yourself with
people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the
people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to
be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living
."]

 Is that the message of wisdom? Get up and walk away from the sad and the
unhappy? Turn our backs on it all?
 I'd like to walk away from a lot of things, and feel free - free to be happy.
Just like that wise old man. But...

 What if that wise old man lived next door to a little puppy, that was suffering
under the ignorance of it's master? Then the wise old man moves away - out of
that neighborhood and into a nicer one where people are kind and sociable. The
puppy looks way over there and sees the wise old man smiling and laughing,
having left his cares behind.

 Then the puppy looks over its shoulder and sees its ignorant master coming,
bringing more pain, and misery. It prays, desperately, for the wise old man to
come back and save him, but he doesn't - and he never will. He's left the misery
behind and he's enjoying life.
 Oh, he thinks about the little puppy now and then... wondering if it's still
suffering... or if it's still alive. But then he turns to his new neighbors and
smiles, and thanks God for such a beautiful world!

 But what about that wise man? And what about God? Is God happy for that wise
old man? Is God happy that the wise old man is happy?

 And what about that puppy? What about that sad little puppy? I know a sad
little puppy. As long as I know it's sad, how can I be happy? And I wonder, how
can God ever be happy?

 Sad little puppy...

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Originally posted by me on Saturday, August 6, 2011 at 12:39 am

3 comments:

Happy Birthday, Dad!

  August is the month of my father's birthday. He was with me the day I was born. I don't remember that, but I was with him the day he died. That I remember and I know that he does, too.

 Whether said to a son or to a daughter, this video really gets down to what's
important. I watch it frequently. It's hard to do that. Just as the man in this
video seems to be my Dad speaking to me, so it seems that he is me - speaking to my own son. One day my son will have to speak to his children. It is a chain of life that should not be broken. When it is, it breaks God's Heart. And all the Sundays in church won't heal a thing.

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD! A lifetime isn't enough to say more.

http://www.youtube.com/user/rturri2008#p/c/B16967BA8CCEA9CA/3/N1EkWnqiJiQ
 
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Originally published by me on Monday, August 8, 2011


To my good friend, Amin:

Thank you again for making this video
and I do keep you both in my prayers.

http://www.youtube.com/user/aminhafez]