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Our next step was simple; how fast can we get to this clinic. Using the internet and e-mail, I quickly establish contact with the clinic in Hanover, Germany. The treatment calls for me to be there for a two-week period. There are hotels and rooms that can be leased. The airfare is expensive, not to mention the treatment, but when it's your health at stake suddenly money becomes less important. The talk of going to this clinic becomes first and foremost in all of our conversations. People hear of our impending trip to Hamburg and call us, offering places to stay while we are there, names of friends, and words of encouragement. People we don't even know call to offer their moral support. It's pretty impressive to find out how many people out there want to help. These are people we hardly know! I'm talking about parking lot attendants, strangers in elevators, clerks at fast food restaurants; they all go out of their way to help you. One thing I've learned from this situation I've found myself in: never underestimate the compassion of fellow human beings. I am amazed at the number of caring souls (I call them angels) out there ready to avail for my benefit. The next thing to happen was as Bob Dylan would say, "A simple twist of fate."
A NEW LOCAL DOCTOR
Through our travels, conversations, and day-to-day living with the MS stigma, the next logical thing happened. Someone else who visited a similar clinic to the one in Hanover was not healed and they offered us good advice, "Before you go to Germany there is a local doctor who may be able to help you." That suggestion alone could conceivably save us $20,000. It was certainly worth a try, right?
So after living with MS for five-plus years, we went to a new doctor to see if there wasn't some other treatment available. This doctor, who is MD and a holistic healer, took more blood from me than you could imagine. She suspected mercury poisoning. The blood tests were almost the price of a ticket to Germany. Two weeks after my initial visit the doctor called somewhat discouraged. Apparently my blood work showed I was not suffering from mercury poisoning. If it had, it would have been something treatable, and possibly I might never even have had MS at all. The doctor's hopes had been dashed, as well as mine. Three days later came the next call. "You won't believe this. You've tested positive for Lyme Disease." Those words were spoken by my "new" doctor.
Most Southern Californians are not familiar with Lyme disease, which is a neurological disorder transmitted to humans who have been bitten by deer ticks. Deer ticks--those little parasites that glom onto deer and suck their blood. The reason I was so familiar with Lyme disease was because we lived in Connecticut not far from Old Lyme, the city where the disease was first discovered and later named. Not only that, my wife Melody had been twice bitten by infected ticks while we were in Connecticut, and her horse had gotten Lyme disease two times and had to be treated with massive infusions of antibiotics. In fact, while back East, I got tested for Lyme disease. The test was negative. I knew one thing: this could be great news!
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