Frankly, it’s hard not be thankful for sick friends. Even before my current age (it is a surprise when nothing hurts) I had started thanking God for people who have faced or suffered from the same health issues that were new to me. Further, I thank Him for making those dear suffering fellow travelers share details of their journey with pain and the remedies that they prescribe with authority.
It just seems natural for my friends to help me. Some even provided tips on how to conceive a baby boy — after “natural” experts learned that we had three daughters and no son. They advised about the best hour to shower, the temperature of the water and just-before-bedtime activities were prescribed in addition to some information I consider adult material.
Yet, the how-to-get-a-son experts were amateurs compared to my experts on health issues. Take the Minneapolis airport cart driver, a native of one of the Horn of Africa countries. Knowing that I came originally from Kenya was enough for him to prescribe the physical activities I needed for my knee (the reason I was on his cart). His final admonition was, “My brother, never let your body be operated. Trust me. I can come to where you live and teach you those exercises.” I could not trust his advice. I had seen the X-rays of my knee.
I admit. I am ignorant of many things. So when the doctor said, “Your chest pains are due to acid reflux,” my life began to be enriched by ideas and recommendations. That is when I was led to the miracles of a rare natural juice called Noni (millions have never heard of it) mixed with Apple Cider Vinegar with the Mother (no kidding) by a fellow Kenyan suffering in Texas.
As well as learning of a myriad of medications, vitamins and herbs that have kept my friends alive, some comfort comes with knowing you are not alone. Aging pains are non-discriminatory. I have heard wisdom on how to ease mine from a homeless man and from a top-elected official. You can’t believe my relief when a doctor said, “I don’t know if there is medicine for that yet, but this is what my mother used to do …” God bless mothers.
My own mother was the first natural doctor (add psychologist) to not only prescribe what she thought would cure her son but also administer a barrage of remedies. Ash mixed with sap extracted from sisal paper (same family as yucca) leaves were believed to cure my stomachaches. I endured the ash and sap treatment for 17 years without improvement. Eventually, a real doctor’s laboratory analysis revealed why.
My mother’s handbag was mobile pharmacy. Even if you don’t believe in God, know that He is real. Who else would you credit for our survival (my siblings and I) from the unprescribed medicine that came from that handbag? I still see her opening it and hear, “Muli nyua mbeke isu na kiwu” (Muli take that tablet with water).
Dr. Vincent Muli Kituku is a motivational speaker and author. He can be reached in care of the Argus Observer, 1160 S.W. Fourth St., Ontario, OR 97914. The views and opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of the Argus Observer
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