remain an intriguing hypothesis but a hypothesis one would be challenged to find any exceptions to. It seems far-fetched to suppose that such frequently observed associations can be all a matter of pure coincidence.
A mind-body perspective may help those afflicted with ALS who are willing to look at some very painful realities fully and unflinchingly. In rare instances, people do seem to get over symptoms diagnosed as ALS. It would be worthwhile investigating such cases to find out why. One example is reported by Dr. Christiane Northrup in
Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom:
Dana Johnson, a researcher friend of mine and a registered nurse, even recovered from Lou Gehrig’s disease by learning to respect all aspects of her body.
After she had had the disease for some years, she began to lose control over her breathing muscles as well as the rest of her body. Her breathing difficulties made her think she was going to die. But she decided at that point that she wanted to experience unconditionallove for herself at least once before dying. Describing herself as a “bowl of Jell-O in a wheelchair,” she sat every day for fifteen minutes in front of a mirror and chose different parts of herself to love. She started with her hands, because at that time they were the only parts of herself that she could appreciate unconditionally. Each day she went on to other body parts….
She also wrote in a journal about insights she had during this process, and she came to see that since childhood she had believed that in order to be of service, acceptable to others, and worthy of herself, she had to sacrifice her own needs. It took a life-threatening disease for her to learn that service through self-sacrifice is a dead end. 11
According to Dr. Northrup, her friend healed through the conscious daily practice of emotional self-inventory and of self-love that, little by little, “unfroze” each part of her body. Had I read such a story when I graduated from medical school, I would have dismissed it out of hand. Even now, the scientifically trained physician in me would like to see direct proof that ALS was legitimately diagnosed in this case. In palliative work I once saw a person admitted for “respite care” who had convinced herself and her circle of friends that she suffered from ALS, despite the electrodiagnostic testing and neurological findings having all been, repeatedly, perfectly normal. The friends scarcely believed me when I informed them that the invalid they had been assiduously caring for was, from the narrow physical point of view, as healthy as they were.
Today I do not find Dr. Northrup’s report impossible to credit. It accords with my understanding of this disease. There was an intriguing incident in the story of Alexa, the teacher whose husband, Peter, could not accept the diagnosis of ALS. It revealed the potential of something that, perhaps, may have been. The psychologist Gordon Neufeld managed on only one occasion to see her alone, without her spouse. “It was absolutely clear to me that her emotions were tied up, that she had lost her vitality,” Dr. Neufeld says. “There was a two-hour session when Peter was away, and she grieved intensely about her life and about her illness. It made a huge difference to her. The physiotherapist saw her right afterwards and was amazed that her muscle tone was so much better. But I could never meet with her alone again, and I could never get her to that place again. The window just shut.”
*
A gene for breast cancer runs in Laura’s family. Her sister was also diagnosed, six months before Laura. Breast cancer will be the subject of a later chapter
.
5
Never Good Enough
F OR SEVEN YEARS, MICHELLE had a lump in her breast. Periodically, it grew or shrank, but it never caused her or her physicians any concern. “Then all of a sudden it got really hard, got hot and started to grow almost overnight,” the thirty-nine-year-old Vancouverite says. A biopsy revealed
A mind-body perspective may help those afflicted with ALS who are willing to look at some very painful realities fully and unflinchingly. In rare instances, people do seem to get over symptoms diagnosed as ALS. It would be worthwhile investigating such cases to find out why. One example is reported by Dr. Christiane Northrup in
Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom:
Dana Johnson, a researcher friend of mine and a registered nurse, even recovered from Lou Gehrig’s disease by learning to respect all aspects of her body.
After she had had the disease for some years, she began to lose control over her breathing muscles as well as the rest of her body. Her breathing difficulties made her think she was going to die. But she decided at that point that she wanted to experience unconditionallove for herself at least once before dying. Describing herself as a “bowl of Jell-O in a wheelchair,” she sat every day for fifteen minutes in front of a mirror and chose different parts of herself to love. She started with her hands, because at that time they were the only parts of herself that she could appreciate unconditionally. Each day she went on to other body parts….
She also wrote in a journal about insights she had during this process, and she came to see that since childhood she had believed that in order to be of service, acceptable to others, and worthy of herself, she had to sacrifice her own needs. It took a life-threatening disease for her to learn that service through self-sacrifice is a dead end. 11
According to Dr. Northrup, her friend healed through the conscious daily practice of emotional self-inventory and of self-love that, little by little, “unfroze” each part of her body. Had I read such a story when I graduated from medical school, I would have dismissed it out of hand. Even now, the scientifically trained physician in me would like to see direct proof that ALS was legitimately diagnosed in this case. In palliative work I once saw a person admitted for “respite care” who had convinced herself and her circle of friends that she suffered from ALS, despite the electrodiagnostic testing and neurological findings having all been, repeatedly, perfectly normal. The friends scarcely believed me when I informed them that the invalid they had been assiduously caring for was, from the narrow physical point of view, as healthy as they were.
Today I do not find Dr. Northrup’s report impossible to credit. It accords with my understanding of this disease. There was an intriguing incident in the story of Alexa, the teacher whose husband, Peter, could not accept the diagnosis of ALS. It revealed the potential of something that, perhaps, may have been. The psychologist Gordon Neufeld managed on only one occasion to see her alone, without her spouse. “It was absolutely clear to me that her emotions were tied up, that she had lost her vitality,” Dr. Neufeld says. “There was a two-hour session when Peter was away, and she grieved intensely about her life and about her illness. It made a huge difference to her. The physiotherapist saw her right afterwards and was amazed that her muscle tone was so much better. But I could never meet with her alone again, and I could never get her to that place again. The window just shut.”
*
A gene for breast cancer runs in Laura’s family. Her sister was also diagnosed, six months before Laura. Breast cancer will be the subject of a later chapter
.
5
Never Good Enough
F OR SEVEN YEARS, MICHELLE had a lump in her breast. Periodically, it grew or shrank, but it never caused her or her physicians any concern. “Then all of a sudden it got really hard, got hot and started to grow almost overnight,” the thirty-nine-year-old Vancouverite says. A biopsy revealed
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