A Big, Fat Pain in My…Tooth

It started out as a mild ache, contained to a very small spot between my two back molars. And that lasted for a couple of weeks. (Yes, I know, I should have dealt with the problem sooner. Hindsight…)  Then out of the blue, on Friday night, the pain suddenly and swiftly increased dramatically and by the end of the night I could no longer chew using the left side of my mouth. By Saturday morning I was popping pain pills as frequently as the bottle deemed safe (or maybe a little more frequently, truth be told). By Sunday I struggled to see or hear anything past the pain and by Monday morning I could barely speak without tears springing to my eyes. Waves of nausea continually coursed over me, as the pain shot through my face. Every movement of my jaw had become exruciating. In fact, every moment had become painful, movement or not.  The entire left side of my face, head and neck seemed inflamed, it felt as though someone had stabbed me in the jaw then punched me repeatedly in the face. From the time I woke up Monday morning until sometime around four o’clock that afternoon, I ate as little as possible and stayed as silent as is possible when you are the mother of two small children. Not the best day I’ve ever had…

By Sunday night I knew I had to do something about the pain. And as has been the case on more than one occasion, I debated who to go to for help: Ed Mikrut or good ‘ole Doc Western…Doc Western or good ‘ole Ed Mikrut…

Here is where I will try and explain who Ed is and what Ed does. Simply put, mainly because I don’t know that I can explain it any other way, Ed has a lot of experience with and is incredibly knowledgeable in dealing with physical and emotional illnesses and problems using natural (a.k.a: eastern/homeopathic/alternative) methods. He also encourages natural methods of pursuing general physical and emotional wellness. He has been an incredible blessing to me and my family on many occasions, and in spite of my initial skepticism, has produced results time and time again. If this at all sounds like something/someone you are interested in/have been looking for, you can call 615-593-1855 to make an appointment with Ed. Or if you just have questions or need a better explanation first about what it is that he actually does, he can do a much, much better job with that than I ever will.  I highly, highly recommend him and he offers many other references as well.

So anyway, back to my debate about whether to see Ed or a “regular doctor”. I had been to Ed for sickness before but never for pain. And with my experience with western medicine, I knew that a regular doctor was going to offer me what I was oh so desperate for: fast relief. However, I also knew, or believed, that what Ed offers is safer/healthier and more conducive to long term health and wellness than filling my system with antibiotics and prescription strength pain killers every time I develop an illness or infection. Sooo…

I decided to call Ed. I decided that even if the relief took a little longer (oh but hopefully not too much longer!), that I would feel better about that decision in the long run.

I contacted him the moment I woke up on Monday morning and prayed that he would have an opening.

Three o’clock today, was his response.

Wonderful, was mine.

The hours couldn’t have passed fast enough as I waited for three o’clock to roll around. Finally the clock said 2:30. I gratefully and hurriedly loaded the kids and myself into our car.

The trip across town felt like an eternity. But eventually we arrived at his office, where I dragged myself through his door and plopped myself down in the chair across from where he sat. Meadow and Granite, and a handful of toys, found a seat somewhere beside me, and though I struggled to speak, I told Ed everything that was going on, beginning with the discomfort that had started almost a month before. He listened quietly at first then asked a series of relevant questions. I answered best I could. Within a half hour of arriving I was tested, imprinted, given a concoction of goodness in a little brown bottle, and handed a long list of herbs, vitamins and ideas for ways to help the problem once I got home.

The relief was quick and complete. Within an hour of being imprinted the pain had diminished slightly and every hour after that I could feel noticeable improvement. By the time I went to bed that night the pain had shrunk to one little spot in my mouth (the spot it originated in a few weeks before) and by Tuesday morning there was absolutely no pain anywhere. A tenderness lingered until Wednesday but by the end of the week there was no sign that there had ever been any problem at all. No pain, no tenderness, no sensitivity. I could even chew using that side of my mouth without an ounce of discomfort.

I was a believer in alternative medicine before I walked into Ed’s office that day. But if there was even an ounce of disbelief or skepticism lingering in my mind before the day my tooth was treated, it has disappeared as completely as the pain I walked in with that day.

P.S. It has been three weeks since I woke up pain free. And I am happy and very thankful to say, as I sit here eating these crunchy tortilla chips, that that status has not changed in the slightest.

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Ed and My Second Born

my second born

By the time Granite was five days old, I knew my children were very, very different. This realization occured to me after a loooong, sleepless night spent with my second child. As the sun rose and I realized I had not slept at all I thought, “Oh man, what have I gotten myself into?” In fact, most of Granite’s first year, I am sad and slightly embarrassed to admit, was spent thinking that. As I dealt with his nursing problems, his eating problems, his digestive problems, his sleeping problems, his illnesses, his two hour screaming sessions, his defiance, his fussiness, his restlessness, his anger issues and our major communication problems, I could not help but think, “What have I gotten myself into!?” It was a rough, rough start to say the least.

Then spring rolled around (at this point Granite was somewhere around 12 months old). Things had gotten a little better, now that he was weaned and mobile and sleeping like a champ (twelve to fourteen hours every night, with a two to three hour nap every afternoon!). But things were not what I would describe as ‘good’. We still had huge communication problems; him trying to communicate and me not understanding and him getting furious that I didn’t know what he was wanting or saying. And me telling him what to do and him reacting in anger to any suggestions that did not one hundred percent agree with what he was already trying to do. And he could still be very fussy, restless and tempermental. So, our life had improved but there were still many, many moments of desperation, of unhappiness, of general overwhelmedness.

Until one afternoon when everything changed for me, and my life course, my perspective, my reality was changed forever.

We (Granite and I) were sitting in Ed Mikrut’s office. He is the “eastern/alternative/voodoo medicine man” that we have been seeing for well over a year now. (I’m not sure of his actual title, so forgive me, that may be a misrepresenation of him. Basically he encourages natural/alternative methods for pursuing wellness and dealing with physical and emotional illnesses and problems.)

Anyway, so we were sitting in Ed’s office again dealing with another sickness that Granite had picked up and come down with. Ed had finished testing Granite, given me what I needed to take care of Granite and I was about to gather our stuff to get ready to leave when Ed said, “Let me see him for a minute.” (note: Granite had been either fussing, crying, or screaming pretty much the entire session.) I handed the kid over, happy to not be holding a squirming, screaming child for a moment and watched as Granite slowly calmed down and got quiet in Ed’s lap. My jaw hit the floor (at least I think it did) and I stared in awe at my quieted child.

As this developed, I remember Ed said to me, “Something isn’t right here. Something is off with this little guy. I don’t think he’s just a fussy baby…I think there’s something going on inside him. Maybe if we figure out what it is then we can deal with it and make it better.”

After Ed made this statement he proceeded to ask me many, many questions; questions about my pregnancy, about Granite’s birth and about how I have dealt with and interacted with Granite, questions about Granite’s behavior at home, his interactions with other people and his reactions to different environments. And he listened. He listened as I answered his questions,  as I said things I’d never conciously thought about before, as I shared about all of the overwhelming emotions of the prior year. And he listened as I confessed that……I didn’t…really…like…my son.

And when I uttered these words, words I had never spoken out loud or even been willing to conciously admit, he waited. He waited as I cried. And cried. And cried. Cried because I was ashamed of my feelings towards my son and because I was sad that my son, who didn’t ask for any of this, had a mother who felt the way that I did.

And then he listened again as I, through my tears, realized and admitted that I wanted my second born to be like my first born- quiet, compliant, calm and easy going -and that when I had realized he was not, I had become so overwhelmed by, resentful towards and frightened about having to be his mother forever, I could barely function!

And then Ed spoke, or the Holy Spirit spoke through him, about taking it one day at a time, about embracing the challenge of being the mother of a spirited child, about me being the one to break the cycle of emotion between Granite and I, about Granite needing my acceptance and about what an incredible man Granite’s strength and spirit and passion, would one day make him. (and he said more but I cannot remember it all nor do it justice, though my memory is of him saying exactly what needed to be said, exactly what I needed to hear)

So I don’t know if it was the power of confessing these things that changed me, the words of wisdom that followed, or the combination of the two, but I left Ed’s office a different woman. And I swear, Granite left a different boy.

The moment I realized this difference was in the car on the way home. Granite was sitting in the seat behind me as I drove and I was lost in thought and still somewhat emotional. I pulled the mirror down to look at him, he was being quiet and I wanted to see what he was doing. And when I looked at my son through that mirror, I saw a different child. It was like I had on a new pair of glasses and, for the first time, was seeing things clearly. Instead of seeing a difficult, tempermental, anger filled wild child, I saw a precious boy who, while spirited and energetic, was just emotional because his mama did not accept him for who he was…and is. And my heart melted as I begged God (and Granite, though I’m not sure he really understood it) for forgiveness.

Our days have been different ever since. We still have our bad moments. And he will always have an energy and spirit that I don’t have or understand. But I have learned to appreciate him, enjoy him, even adore him. He brings so much life, so much hilarity, so much preciousness to our home and I thank God for the grace and wisdom that made it possible.

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