I Think I Can

Here's what I've noticed about the recovery process. I will be singing one day and sobbing the next. Two steps forward and one giant step backward.

It's a roller coaster. It's a climb. It's the harsh reality of a toxic mold exposure.

It's been 10 months of solid recovery work. We went into this with a head start. We saw an orthospinologist (chiropractic specialist) for 4 months prior to leaving our home. I'm still grateful for that initial message to our bodies that it's time to unload the "junk" we had accumulated over the years through the mold exposure in our home, the foods, and our life in a toxic world.

We headed to Arizona and I soon realized that no doctor and no protocol will make us well. Our genetics combined with our high and prolonged exposure meant that dedication and determination would be essential if we were to unload enough to lead a "recovered" life.

So here we are 10 months later. With some new strategies and some old ones. We're still taking numerous supplements but nothing synthetic. No more cholestyramine. We seem to plateau at times. As if our bodies need a good kick to remind us what health looks like. Acupuncture, Chinese herbs, and the dietary changes have helped.

I've been thinking lately about the "Little Engine that Could." Such a simple story: A willing engine with a daunting task. Pulling another engine over a mountain to save the hearts of some children. I feel like that engine sometimes. Still climbing. Trying to believe I can get to the other side. Wondering what the other side looks like.

The engine makes it, unloads, and the children receive their gifts. And so the story ends,

And they learned one important lesson from the Little Engine. There are many things we can accomplish if only we would try. If only we would say, "I think I can."

Chug Chug. Puff Puff.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.