Urine Tripper, Day 2
Daredevil that I am, today I increased my dosage of wee to 15 drops under the tongue. And again, there was no taste to speak of, just a slight accent of salt and a warm cuddly feeling of time travelling back to life in the womb.
And then I got a damning frontal headache. And then a vaccination scar on my left arm started to itch and itch and itch.
And later in the day, as I was heading to a meeting, I got an instant message from my colon that it was needing to make a special delivery. And so I made a left turn into the closest water closet, and sat. And sat. And sat, my gut cramping up and my ass growing more humiliated at why I was going to be late to the staff meeting, and what I would say if pressed.
Finally nature called, and before skulking out of the restroom, I turned and looked at my creation. It was a nice, well-formed log with bits of wild rice in it, which was odd because I haven’t eaten wild rice in over a month. And then I looked closer and saw that it wasn’t wild rice but an 11-piece mariachi band, whom I invited to my staff meeting and so never had to explain my tardiness.
And once at the meeting, my staff completely apologized to me for all the horrific scheduling errors they had made since I started working there. They got down on their knees and said how ashamed they were of their constant ineptitude, wailing that they were sorry they couldn’t give me anything more than butt-faced mediocrity.
And then the ghost of Timothy Leary appeared, winked at me, and I quit this crapfest of bureaucratic nincompoops job and moved to Phoenix.
Would more people try UT if increased their intuition or fantasy life?
Someday soon I’ll be up to a cup of U a day. Or more. For someone who has never taken ANY drugs of the recreational sort, ever - the glee with which I’m looking forward to hallucinogenic properties of drunken pee is, um, interesting. I think my urine is sending me back to freshman year of college. And this time, I’m enrolled at the U of Me.
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25 June 08A bladder’s retrospective
After a week’s break due to a visit by Aunt Flo, I’ve restarted my urine therapy campaign for weight loss. Actually it’s not really a campaign so much as it’s evidence that a snickering dark lord on Planet Pull My Finger has robbed me of my brain and left a warm pile of batshit in its place.
I haven’t gotten up to drinking it straight, because of course, that’s the goal. Everyone should have goals, right? I’ve advanced past the “you’d-hardly-know-it’s-in-there” homeopathic dose, and this morning I gingerly put a finger in the collection jar and put a drop under my tongue.
There was no taste whatsoever, which is surprising because it certainly smelled like ammonia. In fact, after a few more drops I had this hit that it was amniotic fluid. Around the 4th month of pregnancy, amniotic fluid is basically composed of fetal urine. And I had this Wohhhh moment, like I was taking myself back in time, back to the beginning of me. And then I thought that there must be fetal LSD in this stuff because I was tripping myself out.
And then a few hours later, whilst blogging the previous post, a most unusual taste arose in my mouth. This singular taste was none other than that of Erythromycin, an orange-colored antibiotic my mom gave me for chronic ear infections when I was young. The taste was unbelievably strong, and I wondered if I was still carrying around its residue. I flashed on a class I’d taken at the Learning Annex years ago, where reknowned medical intuitive Caroline Sutherland had told me the root of my food and chemical sensitivities was all the antibiotics I’d taken in my youth. For indeed, antibiotics will damage the gut lining. Thankfully though, urine therapy claims it can heal it. (I’m just so lucky that way.) However, after 10 drops I started to get a headache right between the eyes, which urinophiles will tell you is a detox reaction. Um, yay?
Not long after my Erythromycin-spiked walk down memory lane, I hopped in the shower and unconsciously began singing. In fact, I didn’t realize what I was singing until I was belting out the chorus to 867-5309/Jenny.
Oh my gawd. Urine therapy is taking me back to high school. Now that’s repulsive.
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25 June 08Kelly Bliss rocks
I had posted Joy Nash’s Fat Rant a while ago, a video that to date has gotten over 1.2 million views. Here she is again, valiantly defending her position on the horrific notion that fat people can be healthy, too!
Most memorable is the quote from compatriot Ms. Bliss, culled (at about 1:17) from the yammering on of the fat/fit debate:
“You cannot tell any more about a person’s healthy living lifestyle and actions by looking at their body size than you can tell how hard they work by looking at the balance in their bank account.”
Brilliant.
Judgmental toothpick MeMe Roth (the one in the middle), OTOH, gets a Manhattan raspberry and the Horror Diet Village Idiot award for her incessant harping, “But statistics say fat people are more likely to…” Blah blah blah.
Like all skinny people exercise regularly, never eat junk food, and never get heart attacks or strokes or diabetes.
Statistics say you’re too skinny to be a windbag but you’ve certainly disproved that.
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16 June 08Doesn’t smell like anything, really
You know, when I first started writing this blog, I had a feeling I was going to do some fairly far-fetched things in order to lose weight. After all, with a now-confirmed case of adrenal fatigue, this 100 pounds of blubber has become my albatross, and losing it is like trying to breathe with an albatross throttling my neck.
So, whilst being treated for the adrenals with some Chinese herbs, I’m here to announce that I have finally gone off the deep end regarding weight loss. No, I’m not getting liposucked. Worse. I’m actually engaging in something I never thought I’d do, even had announced it in the ‘About’ section of this blog as something absolutely off-limits. And yet who knew that this particularly grotesque healing modality was excellent for slimming down?
Last week, all of a sudden, these two words bored a hole in my skull and said, “Hey. Think about this one.” And I’m like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” And they went, “Nope.”
The two words? Urine therapy.
Oh, yes. And not just drinking it, either. Using it as a salve for insect bites. Bathing in it to cure psoriasis. Inserted as an enema for constipation relief. Apparently, pee - not water - is the universal solvent.
After all, urine contains antibodies, good bacteria, amino acids, enzymes…and people in India have been using it for 2,000 years to maintain good health. Of course, I’m not sure how they justify drinking the ammonia, heavy metals, formaldehyde, etc. that’s also in pee.
So I spent a good week retching at the thought. Blehhhhh. Then I found out the local naturopathic college actually TEACHES A COURSE in urine therapy. Then I found a recipe for homeopathic urine, essentially a VERY DILUTED dose…one drop shaken up in a glass of water, and thought that I MIGHT be able to do this.
Now, before you question just exactly where I went off the deep end and why, know this. There are people I’ve been talking to - on urine therapy lists, of course - who say it has cured their IBS, their constipation, their fungal toenails, their diabetes, heart problems, hair loss, skin rashes, candidiasis, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities, fibromyalgia - problems that western medicine often has no workable answers for.
Three days ago, I put a drop of urine in some water and succused it (i.e., shook it really hard) and then took a drop of that mixture and put it in another glass, added water and shook that one up. And then I drank it.
And you know what, people? It tasted like WATER.
And not long after, I pooped out a bowel movement to be proud of. I can see how this actually would be good for constipation. I tried it again yesterday, but I started to feel nauseous before drinking it, and so couldn’t tell if the abdominal discomfort I was feeling was from the urine or from the sinking feeling that I had stooped to drinking my own urine. Again.
I am advised by regular pee drinkers that I should work up to drinking it straight, and there is just no way that is ever going to happen. Perhaps I could put a full glass in a smoothie, but I would really have to apologize to the fruit. And then to my stomach lining, which would be puked up all over the toilet.
And yet. Freakily encouraged by one person’s tale of curing his fungal toenails with a 3-day boot soak in ‘water from his own well,’ I bought a pair of rubber farming boots at a feed store today for $15 and poured a week’s worth of urine in them. I am now sitting at my computer, my feet sloshing around in boots full of pee. I write a post-it note: Do not kneel down. For ANY reason.
And now, a rarity. A picture of me.
And here, folks, is the BEFORE picture.
NOW you see why I called this blog the HORROR diet. It’s a horror feast for the eyes! But seriously, as a healthcare practitioner, I’ve seen lots of fugly toes. The fact that I’m willing to sit here in boots full of urine to take care of them says something, doesn’t it? I am doing this FOR AMERICA, people! I am doing this for all the people out there with fungly toenails who wear closed-toed shoes in summer, who never take their socks off in public, who wince at a day at the beach, who envy all those people who can wear their flip flops or Birkenstocks with pride. I am here to show you, BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY, WE WILL NOT BE SOFT ON FUNGUS!!!
I guess you could say I’m using this as a litmus test. If the toes heal nicely with these golden yellow baths, then I might address weight loss with it. But somehow I’d venture to guess that the toes won’t heal without a few hundred gulps of pee, straightaway. And that is just too nauseating for my wee self to think about right now.
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19 May 08Bile this cabbage juice down
So Humaworm. I’ve been taking unnamed capsules delivered in ziploc bags supposedly filled with black walnut hull, cloves, and wormwood as well as other antiparasitic herbs, like thyme and garlic, the latter of which I can definitely confirm for the nice subtle way it keeps repeating on me.
However, my eyes cannot claim to have laid vision on wriggly, squirmy or even limp bits of intestinal freeloaders in the toilet. Of course it would be gross and disgusting, and I probably wouldn’t eat for a week after seeing anything like it, but it would be really nice to feel better. And sadly, that hasn’t changed either.
I am told to keep trudging onward with the dosage, that it can take a while for certain people to start experiencing the panoply of die-off symptoms and million-dollar releases in the pot. The only thing I have been experiencing is burning stomach pain, which the company just counsels to drink lots of water. Unfortunately, water only makes it worse. Sometimes taking Betaine HCL helps, sometimes eating something helps. If you were to ask me what I think is going on, I’d say I have an ulcer.
A few months ago a naturopath recommended I drink 4 cups of cabbage juice everyday. While I’m no stranger to juicing, the thought of drinking liquid cabbage seemed repugnant, and I conveniently forgot the advice.
Now I see why she recommended that. While I wasn’t experiencing the burning abdominal pain then that I am now, cabbage juice is good for ulcers. In fact there have been studies done showing full recovery from peptic ulcers in just 10 days on cabbage juice.
So this morning my juicer liquified two whole heads of cabbage. And then it died, joining my $10 garage sale blender, which passed on a few days earlier. May they rest in juice & smoothie heaven.
The result: cabbage juice is not as vile as I thought it would be, but it is not as palatable as fresh carrot juice, either. And the prospect of drinking forty glasses of it in the next week and a half is mitigated only by the reality that my stomach is Not Happy. I can only hope that doing so will put a smile on my face like these proud folks:
I wonder how many cups of juice they got from that honker.
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15 May 08Way to go, California!
The California Supreme Court declared about an hour ago that gays & lesbians can legally get hitched in the Golden State! So don your taffeta and lace and pop the champagne and take a good long chug, enough to blot out the reality that, come November, ignorant goat-fuckers are going to put a smelly initiative on the ballot blocking same-sex marriage in California. You can count on it.
And would somebody please tell me why we have state judiciaries presiding over such matters when uneducated, bigoted ignoramuses can overrule them at the polls?
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14 May 08What I would have Twittered had I had the nerve
Made it in and out of Trader Joe’s without even fondling the chocolate-covered, peanut butter-filled pretzels. It’s a sad bit of maturity when an internal hemorrhoid starts making all the decisions.
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14 May 08Two plants that make HIV and cancer very, very afraid
Interrupting my normal kvetching to bring you this - a double-blind, placebo-controlled study on AIDS patients in South Africa. Both groups were given a mixture of vitamins for 60 days, but the experimental group received an herbal extract of oleander and a local botanical (the “South African cancer bush”).
At the end of the study, the experimental group’s average CD4 count rose by 135, while the control group’s levels fell by 87. Take that, HIV!
Here’s more on the study from Tony Isaacs at Curezone and the actual clinical trial. The SA cancer bush has been shown to increase tumor necrosis factor, making cancer cells explode, and heal chronic conditions such as digestive inflammation, depression and constant infections due to autoimmune diseases. Oh happy day. Tell me it’lll cure obesity and I’ll dance a jig. Naked. In the street. After all, what would I care? I’d be a size 6.
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11 May 08Born every minute
Over the past few months I’ve mentioned a few things I wanted to give an update for. I had bought both IntraMIN and IntraMAX, liquid mineral supplements power-packed to make life wonderful, fast! When I mentioned to the company that after 3 weeks on IntraMIN I sadly wasn’t experiencing the same benefits as those in their website testimonials, they said that I probably wasn’t all that minerally deficient. Yeah. Except for the amazing and terrifying charleyhorse I had 3 months ago… They said what I needed was IntraMAX, that it would give me the energetic boost I was looking for. Well, 2 weeks on that netted nothing. Now, maybe I am being unfair, because some things take a lot longer to to work, but I found my legs were getting a little crampy on IntraMAX, and stopped when I stopped taking it.
On the other hand, if I really want an energetic boost, I can just switch to meth.
I also bought a parasite zapper, a contraption that for anyone who knows physics is also known as a square wave generator. So twice a day I was sitting in a non-metal chair, devoid of metal jewelry, holding copper cylinders attached to a white box with a switch on it which was wired to flat copper foot pads and trying not to feel hoodwinked by the internet.
And again, I think meth might be the answer, because peering intently into the toilet bowl every day, searching for signs of creepy crawlies only made me feel, um, weird. Well, actually it was the ease with which I have been suckered into believing testimonials and buying crap online that makes me feel like a fool, but same diff.
My latest purchase is a parasite cleanser called Humaworm (the ‘hu’ pronounced like ‘human’). A lot of people on Curezone rave about it, and it was fairly inexpensive, so I took a chance. It’s a bunch of herbs - garlic, pau d’arco, cloves, wormwood, black walnut, etc. - that will kill a range of stuff - parasites, candida, bacteria, etc. If it’s effective, that is. It’s a 30-day program, and people talk about releasing tapeworms and liver flukes and all with it.
I’m 101% positive I don’t have a tapeworm, because if I did, I’d be just skin and bones. Still, there’d be an odd joy from seeing something that long slide out my ass. Like, wheee! My malabsorption troubles are gone! And, so long, SUCKERRR!!!!
But I’m only on day 4, and I haven’t noticed any die-off reaction or any odd-colored, odd-shaped life forms in the loo. But I’m ready. My bathroom’s all set up. I’ve got vinyl gloves, a collection bag and a digital camera to mark the experience. And a barf bag, in case whatever crawls out of me is so heinous my stomach won’t be able to contain its emotions. I can only hope, and that one day I will find the culprit to why I have no energy and can’t lose weight. And one day, THAT SUCKER WILL PAY.
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28 April 08I am driving myself to drink
In the previous post on the Body Drought, I included a video of this Dr. Michael Borkin, an expert on adrenal fatigue, lecturing to what appears to be a group of doctors. If you didn’t watch it, about halfway through, he mentions daily water intake. Common thought is that a reasonable quantity per day should be half your body weight, in ounces. That is, if you weigh 150lbs, you should drink 75 oz. of water per day, which comes out to about 9 glasses of water. He suggests 2/3 of your weight in ounces, and then says sometimes, in some cases, you need to increase water intake by 100%.
To illustrate, a patient of his, a 300lb. woman with no apparent disease process going on came to him and he prescribed an intestinal cleanse for her to take with a quart of water per day. However, she thought that instead of taking 1 quart of water a day, she was supposed to drink FOUR GALLONS of water per day. Shouldn’t he have tested her for DEAFNESS?
Anyway, a year later, she reported that she had lost 180 lbs, just by drinking this much water. One hundred and eighty pounds. In a year. They say that inside every fat person is a thin person struggling to get out. I think that’s wrong, because it’s obvious an elephant and a grand piano were stuck inside her.
Now, Dr. Borkin’s math happens to be off, because at 100%, 300 pounds-cum-ounces computes to only 2.3 gallons. This patient was drinking almost 200% of her weight in water. She is damn lucky he gave her that horse pill cleanse, which must have had necessary electrolytes (sodium, potassium, magnesium, etc.) to keep her heart and lungs functioning. Because she could have died, floating off to heaven on the wings of a heart attack.
Instead, she’s running around now in a hot pink bikini, shopping at Victoria’s Secret, winking at the boys and enjoying all the benefits of life as a thin woman in the western world. I’m sure of it. And hey - lucky her.
I am now actively downing a gallon of water per day, sometimes mixed with Emergen-C, sometimes not. I haven’t noticed any change at all, because I may have been drinking that much before; I just am now paying acute attention to it. Drinking 2 gallons of water per day would put me at 100% and is something I’ll slowly ramp up to, likely concomitant with an intestinal cleanser. One would think that even one gallon of water daily would be enough to make a colon shine, but a casual survey taken over the last four days of my butt’s inactivity says no. There has been no change in the speed or quality of my waste removal system. And that is just so depressing I’m going to hang myself with packets of chocolate Ex-lax strung end-to-end. And then I’ll come back and tell you about my crappy weekend. And then we’ll hold a pity party, whine to our heart’s content, and go home. The end.
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