Tonsillitis
I remember having tonsillitis in my childhood - not that long ago and well after the discovery of penicillin (although it wasn't yet being used so freely). I went to a boarding school called Tormead in England from the tender age of ten - I had not long had my birthday. My parents didn't live anywhere close and so when I got sick, I was sent to the 'san' - a sort of mini-hospital next to Matron's room where 'the girls' lined up each day to get their aspirins and cough medicine. I would spend a week confined to my bed, tucked up warmly and only allowed to read for an hour or two a day. Of course, there was no TV.
After a few days my fever would break and slowly I would get better. After a couple of days exercising (walking outside) and helping Matron, I would return to my 'dorm'. Now of course - and with my own children - we go to the doctor on day 2, get antibiotics and send them back to school on day 3 or 4. But at what cost? And why? Is the body trying to tell us something? Why aren't we listening? By rushing our way through life, are we missing out on the very lessons growth that make life so exciting?
To top it all, last week at a seminar I think I found out the real reasons for my bouts of tonsillitis one or so weeks into the school term. Every term, regardless of the season. Let me tell you the story...
I would spend the last few days of every holiday pleading with my mother not to send me back to boarding school. When the day to go back to school rolled round I was at my wits end and nothing I said made any difference. It must have been very hard on my mother, having me cry and beg so hard. What trauma for a little girl (the DHS).
Of course I had to put on a 'brave face' at school and after a few days I settled down a bit (the resolution). In any case, if I cried the other girls would tease and bully me. When my father called the school a week into the term - he called because my mother was too upset to call herself - the Headmistress assured my father that I was 'just fine' and making friends.
I guess it was just more comfortable for the adults concerned to write off my behaviour as that of a 'precocious little monster'. I would cry at night at school for a few days, then settle. A couple of days later (healing) I would be down with tonsillitis.
This tonsillitis would happen regardless of the season - and regardless of which germs were around - sometimes several times a term, each time verified by the school doctor. Who recommended 'good nursing' from Matron, hot lemon - and that I have my tonsils removed!
Often the letters I sent home pleading with my mom to let me come home were intercepted by a junior matron whose job it was to 'correct' our mail. I wonder if the ones that got through (I would know because they weren't handed back to me to rewrite) coincided with the occasional second and third bouts I would get in my earlier terms?
By my last year at school, when I was 13, I still hated going back to school but I'd perfected a 'hard shell'. My pleas to come home fell on deaf ears - so I pretended that I hated being home and preferred to be at school. There was no point in crying. Plus I had 'discovered' my 'precocious little monster guardian angel' - that would ensure I kept my tonsils and was no longer bothered by the other girls - who knew that I would kick and scratch and fight every time they were unkind to me.
Of course, the advent of this 'new Julie' was blamed on 'teenage' and was, I sincerely believe, the reason for some stunningly poor life choices which affected several decades. Now, as an adult and having learned GNM, I realize that
a) my tonsillitis went away without any medication at all, every time. The body really is the very best healer;
b) the course of my tonsillitis followed the GNM pattern exactly (interesting);
c) if my parents and school had listened and acted on how I personally (everyone's different) perceived going away to boarding school, they could have arranged counselling for me to help me settle in - or just let me stay home. You never know, I might have been able to tame the difficult years that followed.
There is a powerful, incredibly strong connection between our physical health and our psyche.
We ignore it at our peril.
Tonsillitis, GNM style...
If we try to speak/shout/cry but no-one is listening - or if they hear our words but ignore the fear, our psyche, via the brain, tries to help us. After all, there is that part of us that I call 'the survivor' that is only concerned with our survival, there to help us in any way and at any cost... This is that part.
The upper part of our throat, including tonsils etc widens, by painless tiny ulceration, to try and allow 'more voice' out so that maybe we'll be heard. This is the active phase and is quite symptomless.
When the situation is resolved - in whatever way and often over several days - healing takes place.
All healing has to take place in a fluid environment - rather like a grazed knee that swells a bit and gets sore and inflamed and pusy under the scab. When the scab falls off, good-as-new skin is revealed underneath.
With a throat the whole 'environment' is moist so there is no need for a scab. After a few days of healing - including perhaps a fever, night sweats and bacteria to help remove the debris, the throat is as good as new.
This, in a nutshell, is the GNM version - although in reality GNM can tell even more about the situation. It's also very likely that my tonsillitis was complicated by the fact that I was alone, stuck in the san, which would have caused water retention and more swelling and a slightly 'bigger' healing phase.
If our children are sick, we can trace the history back and work out why... So that we can make sure the problem is healthily resolved and so not likely to cause more problems down the road. This applies equally well to coughs and colds, flu, pneumonia...
So very important.
Julie