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Purple Fingers and Purple Toes

A Drug Addict’s Story
R. T. Holt
I haven’t slept a wink. It’s 5 a.m. A vast quantity of cocaine circulates in my bloodstream. Birds chirp outside my window to wish me a good morning. I cover my ears. I have nothing to whistle about.

My party is over. I am toxic-liver drunk. I am parched-mouth dry. I am buggy-eyed paranoid. I am little-men-running-around-my-apartment delusional. I am hung over hard.

My friend dresses for work. She searches for her keys. She is sorry for leaving me.  She will be fired if she doesn’t go. I wonder how she can be responsible at a time like this.

How can she function? I am barreled over by the reality of her departure. Oh my
G-d, she is leaving me. What am I going to do? I am sick as a dog. Something is
very wrong with me.

Please, don’t leave me here alone, I beg. You’ll be fine. Get some sleep, she suggests.

I tell her I am not fine. I tell her I am scared. She promises to check up on
me.

She gives me a look of reassurance. She walks to the door and says goodbye
to me. She closes the door behind her. Oh my G-d! I am all alone! Oh my G-d! I
can’t catch my breath.

My heart drums against my ribcage. Marbles spill from my head on to the floor. I
am a drooling mental patient. I am a walking zombie bandaged in panic. Oh my
G-d, please help me! I am going to die.

I am drowning in Johnny Walker. I am sinking under a pile of cocaine. I am
dangling by my desperation. I scour the carpet for more cocaine. I reach for a
bucket of hope, I come up empty handed.

The hairs on my neck stand up like the fibers in the rug. My nose is pressed to
the shag like a hound chasing a fresh scent. Why am I looking for more drugs?
What the hell is wrong with me?

I wear a lunatic costume. I am only sane enough to comprehend my insanity.
What’s a nice girl like me doing in addiction like this? I cry from my
awareness. I am teetering on a brink. I am about to fall off the edge.

A monsoon of emotion hits me. I cover my eyes with my hands. I tell myself the
feeling of death will pass. I pace the floors from room to room. I scan for
something to distract me from my Goliath fear. Fierce dogs cower and retreat in
the face of such terror.

I can’t catch my breath! I can’t catch my breath! Less air fills my lungs than
fills a straw. A coffin shaped chariot arrives and awaits me. Oh, my G-d. I am
going to die. I imagine my lifeless body facing down on the rug.

Carpet strands hold my body up like nails, I am the human sacrifice. This is
not the happy ending my parents had in mind for me. This is not the way a parent
should find a child. This is not the way a child should find a parent.

I grab the phone and dial my friend for comfort. She hears the terror in my
voice. What’s going on? What are you doing? She asks.

I tell her every detail. Lines, liquor, cigarettes, trying to relax, can’t
calm down. Can’t catch my breath; I sob uncontrollably. I fall to my knees. My
body prays for help.

I look at my fingers. They are purple. What the hell? Am I imagining this? I
shift my attention to my feet. Holy Sh–! My toes look purple too! I stretch my
legs out in front of me. I need to get a better look. I squeeze my eyes shut
hoping to change the image in front of me. I am alarmed.

I try to get up but can’t. My arms and legs won’t move. I have no idea why I
am stuck. I suspect I am dying. Oh my G-d! Am I paralyzed? I never meant for
this to happen. I will never do drugs again! Please help me! I promise; I will
never do drugs again!

I rock back and forth on the ground to console myself. I choke as I gasp for
air. My friend hears me choking. She starts to cry. She begs me to call 911. Her
tone is serious. Her desperation frightens me. Hang up and call 911 now! She demands.
Can’t, there is cocaine all over the glass table. They will arrest me. Call 911 now! If you don’t, I will!

My pride prevents me from surrendering. If I call for help, people will know I
have a problem. I am unreasonable. I cling to my good girl image. A voice from
inside of me shouts: DO IT. DO IT NOW; MAKE THE CALL! IT IS A MATTER OF LIFE OR
DEATH.

The voice is firm. The voice is certain. The voice is not mine. Once more, it
commands me. DO IT, DO IT NOW! The presence shocks me into submission. I agree
to call 911.

A screaming siren alerts me of the paramedic€™s arrival A large man breaks
through my front door and lifts me up in his arms. I am totally out of control.
I am screaming louder than the siren. I believe my heart is under attack.

I do not care if the neighbors hear me; my pounding heart punctures a hole in
my chest. Thump, Thump, Thump Thump, Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump, Thump My
heart is aching My heart is breaking My heart is begging for help

Paramedics whisk me into the ER. It seems hours before a nurse injects me with
peace. What the hell took you so long?? My thumping heart slows down. My racing
thoughts cease to run. My tangled body untangles.

Thank you, G-d. Thank you. I am drained of all fight I am beaten beyond
recognition. I am empty of every excuse; there is nothing left to say and
nothing left to do. I am reduced to nothingness and I am ready to change.

Make the Choice! Make the Change for Livening.

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Purple Fingers and Purple Toes; A Drug Addict’s Story

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R. T. Holt

I haven’t slept a wink. It’s 5 a.m.  A vast quantity of cocaine circulates in my
bloodstream. Birds chirp outside my window to wish me a good morning. I cover
my ears. I have nothing to whistle about.

My party is over.  I am toxic-liver drunk. I am parched-mouth dry. I am
buggy-eyed paranoid.  I am little-men-running-around-my-apartment delusional. I
am hung over hard.

My friend dresses for work. She searches for her keys. She is sorry for leaving
me. She will be fired if she doesn’t go. I wonder how she can be responsible at
a time like this.

How can she function?  I am barreled over by the reality of her departure. Oh my
G-d, she is leaving me. What am I going to do? I am sick as a dog. Something is
very wrong with me.

Please, don’t leave me here alone, I beg.  You’ll be fine. Get some sleep, she suggests.

I tell her I am not fine. I tell her I am scared. She promises to check up on
me.

She gives me a look of reassurance. She walks to the door and says goodbye
to me. She closes the door behind her. Oh my G-d! I am all alone! Oh my G-d! I
can’t catch my breath.

My heart drums against my ribcage. Marbles spill from my head on to the floor. I
am a drooling mental patient.  I am a walking zombie bandaged in panic. Oh my
G-d, please help me! I am going to die.

I am drowning in Johnny Walker. I am sinking under a pile of cocaine. I am
dangling by my desperation. I scour the carpet for more cocaine. I reach for a
bucket of hope, I come up empty handed.

The hairs on my neck stand up like the fibers in the rug. My nose is pressed to
the shag like a hound chasing a fresh scent. Why am I looking for more drugs?
What the hell is wrong with me?

I wear a lunatic costume.  I am only sane enough to comprehend my insanity.
What’s a nice girl like me doing in addiction like this? I cry from my
awareness. I am teetering on a brink. I am about to fall off the edge.

A monsoon of emotion hits me. I cover my eyes with my hands. I tell myself the
feeling of death will pass. I pace the floors from room to room. I scan for
something to distract me from my Goliath fear. Fierce dogs cower and retreat in
the face of such terror.

I can’t catch my breath! I can’t catch my breath! Less air fills my lungs than
fills a straw. A coffin shaped chariot arrives and awaits me. Oh, my G-d. I am
going to die. I imagine my lifeless body facing down on the rug.

Carpet strands hold my body up like nails, I am the human sacrifice. This is
not the happy ending my parents had in mind for me. This is not the way a parent
should find a child. This is not the way a child should find a parent.

I grab the phone and dial my friend for comfort. She hears the terror in my
voice. What’s going on?  What are you doing? She asks.

I tell her every detail. Lines, liquor, cigarettes, trying to relax, can’t
calm down.  Can’t catch my breath; I sob uncontrollably. I fall to my knees. My
body prays for help.

I look at my fingers. They are purple. What the hell?  Am I imagining this? I
shift my attention to my feet. Holy Sh–! My toes look purple too! I stretch my
legs out in front of me. I need to get a better look. I squeeze my eyes shut
hoping to change the image in front of me. I am alarmed.

I try to get up but can’t. My arms and legs won’t move. I have no idea why I
am stuck. I suspect I am dying. Oh my G-d! Am I paralyzed?  I never meant for
this to happen. I will never do drugs again!  Please help me! I promise; I will
never do drugs again!

I rock back and forth on the ground to console myself. I choke as I gasp for
air. My friend hears me choking. She starts to cry. She begs me to call 911. Her
tone is serious. Her desperation frightens me. Hang up and call 911 now! She demands.
Can’t, there is cocaine all over the glass table. They will arrest me. Call 911 now! If you don’t, I will!

My pride prevents me from surrendering. If I call for help, people will know I
have a problem. I am unreasonable. I cling to my good girl image.  A voice from
inside of me shouts: DO IT. DO IT NOW; MAKE THE CALL! IT IS A MATTER OF LIFE OR
DEATH.

The voice is firm. The voice is certain. The voice is not mine. Once more, it
commands me. DO IT, DO IT NOW! The presence shocks me into submission.  I agree
to call 911.

A screaming siren alerts me of the paramedic€™s arrival A large man breaks
through my front door and lifts me up in his arms. I am totally out of control.
I am screaming louder than the siren. I believe my heart is under attack.

I do not care if the neighbors hear me; my pounding heart punctures a hole in
my chest. Thump, Thump, Thump Thump, Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump, Thump  My
heart is aching  My heart is breaking  My heart is begging for help

Paramedics whisk me into the ER. It seems hours before a nurse injects me with
peace. What the hell took you so long??  My thumping heart slows down. My racing
thoughts cease to run. My tangled body untangles.

Thank you, G-d. Thank you. I am drained of all fight I am beaten beyond
recognition. I am empty of every excuse; there is nothing left to say and
nothing left to do. I am reduced to nothingness and I am ready to change.

Make the Choice! Make the Change for Livening.

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Asparagus for Cancer

Asparagus for Cancer

My Mom had been taking the full-stalk canned style asparagus that she pureed and she took 4 tablespoons in the morning and 4 tablespoons later in the day. She did this for over a month. She is on chemo pills for Stage 3 lung cancer in the pleural area and her cancer cell count went from 386 down to 125 as of this past week. Her oncologist said she does not need to see him for 3 months. THE ARTICLE: Several years ago, I had a man seeking asparagus for a friend who had cancer. He gave me a photocopied copy of an article, entitled, Asparagus for cancer ‘printed in Cancer News Journal, December 1979.

I will share it here, just as it was shared with me: I am a biochemist, and have specialized in the relation of diet to health or over 50 years. Several years ago, I learned of the discovery of Richard R. Vensal, D.D.S. that asparagus might cure cancer. Since then, I have worked with him on his project we have accumulated a number of favorable case histories. Here are a few examples: Case No. 1, A man with an almost hopeless case of Hodgkin’s disease (cancer of the lymph glands) who was completely incapacitated. Within 1 year of starting the asparagus therapy, his doctors were unable to detect any signs of cancer, and he was back on a schedule of strenuous exercise. Case No. 2, a successful businessman 68 years old who suffered from cancer of the bladder for 16 years. After years of medical treatments, including radiation without improvement, he went on asparagus. Within 3 months, examinations revealed that his bladder tumor had disappeared and that his kidneys were normal.  Case No. 3, a man who had lung cancer. On March 5th 1971, he was put on the operating table where they found lung cancer so widely spread that it was inoperable.

The surgeon sewed him up and declared his case hopeless. On April 5th he heard about the Asparagus therapy and immediately started taking it By August, x-ray pictures revealed that all signs of the cancer had disappeared.. He is back at his regular business routine.  Case No. 4, a woman who was troubled for a number of years with skin cancer. She finally developed different skin cancers which were diagnosed by the acting specialist as advanced. Within 3 months after starting on asparagus, her skin specialist said that her skin looked fine and no more skin lesions. This woman reported that the asparagus therapy also cured her kidney disease, which started in 1949. She had over 10 operations for kidney stones, and was receiving government disability payments for an inoperable, terminal, kidney condition. She attributes the cure of this kidney trouble entirely to the asparagus. I was not surprised at this result, as `The elements of materia medica’, edited in1854 by a Professor at the University of Pennsylvania, stated that asparagus was used as a popular remedy for kidney stones. He even referred to experiments, in 1739, on the power of asparagus in dissolving stones. Note the dates! We would have other case histories but the medical establishment has interfered with our obtaining some of the records. I am therefore appealing to readers to spread this good news and help us to gather a large number of case histories that will overwhelm the medical skeptics about this unbelievably simple and natural remedy. For the treatment, asparagus should be cooked before using, and therefore canned asparagus is just as good as fresh. I have corresponded with the two leading canners of asparagus, Giant and Stokely, and I am satisfied that these brands contain no pesticides or preservatives.

Place the cooked asparagus in a blender and liquefy to make a puree, and store in the refrigerator. Give the patient 4 full tablespoons twice daily, morning and evening. Patients usually show some improvement in 2-4 weeks. It can be diluted with water and used as a cold or hot drink. This suggested dosage is based on present experience, but certainly larger amounts can do no harm and may be needed in some cases. As a biochemist I am convinced of the old saying that `what cures can prevent.’ Based on this theory, my wife and I have been using asparagus puree as a beverage with our meals. We take 2 tablespoons diluted in water to suit our taste with breakfast and with dinner. I take mine hot and my wife prefers hers cold. For years we have made it a practice to have blood surveys taken as part of our regular checkups. The last blood survey, taken by a medical doctor who specializes in the nutritional approach to health, showed substantial improvements in all categories over the last one, and we can attribute these improvements to nothing but the asparagus drink. As a biochemist, I have made an extensive study of all aspects of cancer, and all of the proposed cures. As a result, I am convinced that asparagus fits in better with the latest theories about cancer. Asparagus contains a good supply of protein called histones, which are believed to be active in controlling cell growth

For that reason, I believe asparagus can be said to contain a substance that I call cell growth normalize. That accounts for its action on cancer and in acting as a general body tonic. In any event, regardless of theory, asparagus used as we suggest, is a harmless substance. The FDA cannot prevent you from using it and it may do you much good. It has been reported by the US National Cancer Institute, that asparagus is the highest tested food containing glutathione, which is considered one of the body’s most potent anticarcinogens and antioxidants.

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