Wayne
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Below is Chapter 15 from a book entitled, "Diagnosis Unknown", by Randy Smith. The book, which is currently online (free) at the above link, chronicles Randy's wife's (Linda) journey through 5+ years of CFS. In a rather humorous manner, Randy describes their health journey through what many would consider "woo woo" alternative therapies. However, their journey culminated with them finding a diagnosis for Linda, which then led to complete resolution to her illness.
I find Randy's writing style to be easy and enjoyable to read. The first 14 chapters lead to Chapter 15 which starts dealing with the resolution part of Linda's CFS. In short, they saw a man who did electrodermal screening, and who diagnosed Linda with three focal infections in her body. The main one was in her oral cavity which required cavitation surgery. Linda recovered quickly after having the recommended surgery done.
I first read this book over ten years ago, but had virtually no money at the time to follow up on any of the things that worked for Linda. As I was reviewing some of this tonight, it reminds me of some of the higher priority things that I would like to pursue at this time, including accepting an offer from an acquaintance to do some complimentary SCIO work for me.
Anyway, I thought Randy and Linda's story might be of interest to others here who are open to alternative therapies. It might be especially significant for some on this board who are considering the deleterious role of root canals and/or focal infections.
I'm not certain about this, but I think most conventional MDs poo poo the idea of focal infections, unless they are major and easily identified. From what I can gather, identifying and adequately addressing them can resolve a lot of chronic health conditions.
I think the moral of the story though is "persistence". Randy and Linda just never gave up, and persevered until they found their answers. I t seems everybody's individual answers will be different, but this story illustrates that it does pay to keep looking.
Best to All, Wayne
.....................................................................
Chapter Fifteen -- Doug’s Diagnosis
Here’s all we knew about Douglas Leber before meeting with him at his mother’s house two days after Christmas of 1993.
He received training as a naturopathic doctor in Seattle and was a licensed acupuncturist and colonic therapist. Since his graduation from naturopathic college he had specialized in investigational biomedical research using EAV (electroacupuncture according to Dr. Volt). Leber had developed an investigational tool called the Computron. The Computron was allegedly capable of completing a noninvasive assessment of all systems of the body. A client would hold metal electrodes, and the operator of the Computron would test all acupuncture meridians, organs, and systems of the body. With the Computron Doug Leber would:
1. Conduct a complete noninvasive physical exam and provide a printout of the results.
2. Identify the root cause of symptoms.
3. Test for toxic metals, chemical allergies, food allergies, parasites, and viruses.
4. Identify subhealth conditions before they manifested on standard medical tests.
5. Provide a course of action to restore the health of the body using homeopathics, herbs, vitamins, minerals, and dietary recommendations.
Using the Computron to gather information, he would then look for confirming evidence in the individual’s medical history and symptoms in order to assess problem areas.
Our initial consultation, which was supposed to last approximately two and one-half hours, would cost $500. This would include any initial treatments and homeopathic remedies. According to our information from Dr. Bart, Douglas Leber was also working with a biochemist on special formulas for chronic degenerative diseases including candida and Epstein Barr virus. The cost of these remedies, if prescribed, would be extra.
This information, even though we decided to act on it, was confusing. The Computron, in the hands of Douglas Leber, purportedly could do everything we had been trying to do for the previous year and a half. It promised a diagnosis to the level of root causes and a course of treatment. How could it be that simple? Why didn’t every doctor have a Computron in his or her office? I was nearly a full-fledged advocate of alternative medicine although, as yet, it had not worked for us. The Computon, though, exuded the stinky sniff of quackery.
I called Bart back to ask him how it worked. He told me he really didn’t know. It had something to do with electrical differences in the body. He also told me that Douglas Leber had seen eighteen people in Hawaii that week, many of whom were friends and acquaintances. We had a control group.
“He travels all over the world,” said Bart.
“Why don’t people come to him?” I wondered.
“1 don’t know,” Bart replied. “Just make sure you keep that appointment.”
Noble and Kendra were traveling with us to my parent’s house for Christmas. We kenneled the cats and loaded our Suburban, installing the third seat so Linda could use it as a bed. Kendra made a nest for her of quilts and pillows. We locked the house and headed north on Interstate 5. At rest stops we would laboriously remove Linda from the third seat, help squeeze moccasins onto her fat, swollen feet, and help her walk to the ladies room. She wore a skirt with an elastic waistband for easy access. Her fingers were so swollen and stiff she could not zip or button for herself. She could barely pull up and pull down.
When we arrived at my mom and dad’s condo, Linda went straight to bed and, except for brief interludes, stayed there through Christmas, sleeping a lot, eating little, racked with pains. Each night, as had become our habit, she would wake me up once or twice to massage the particularly painful areas so she could sleep some more. Linda was gathering strength for her next adventure.
Our appointment was set for 1:00 P.M. on the 27th, and we left before noon to drive the forty miles or so to Douglas Leber’s mother’s house. He didn’t live in Hawaii; his residence was somewhere in the southwest, and he was at his mother’s for Christmas before returning home.
His directions were very clear, and we found the white farmhouse which sat with its outbuildings like an oasis surrounded by shopping centers. We arrived early. It was 12:30 P.M. and, at first, no one answered the back door, which was a screen door leading to a porch. From where I stood knocking I could see part of the kitchen, and at the end of the kitchen table sat a man holding onto a wire.
Finally, a sixtyish woman with neatly curled and colored hair came to the door and invited us in. I waved to Linda to follow but had to go back to the car, as the door was too heavy for her to open by herself. We followed the smiling gray-haired woman into her living room. Once again, instead of finding ourselves in a modern medical clinic, we were in someone’s living room, looking for help.
The house was decorated for Christmas with a large tree and hundreds of dolls, which Doug’s mother had collected from around the world. There were many large elf-like creatures standing near the fireplace and in corners and alcoves of the old house which added to the surreal aspect of this experience. Linda sat weakly on a couch and tried to make conversation with Doug’s mother—a lively, energetic woman who did her best to keep us company while we waited. And as we were to end up waiting for two and a half hours, she was able to relate her interesting life story and details of many of her travels. It was difficult for me to concentrate on her tales. I was anxious to get Linda hooked up to the Computron and find out what it did. Doug’s mother focused her energies on Linda, no doubt recognizing she needed a boost, and the two and a half hours passed relatively quickly while we waited for Doug to finish with his current client.
Finally, as 3:00 P.M. arrived we were ushered into the kitchen where the Computron was set up on the kitchen table. Douglas Leber then appeared, a very large man dressed in loose beige clothing, his head covered with longish curly black hair, his face wreathed by a bushy black beard. I couldn’t guess his age. He was somewhere between thirty and forty. He was large, wide, substantial looking. His face, though obscured, was extremely kind and he radiated intelligence. He was not what I expected. Bait had provided no physical description. Linda took a seat in a kitchen chair, and I pulled one up beside her. I was lugging a gym bag full of vitamins and supplements, as Bart had told us Leber could check their efficacy on his machine.
Doug Leber invited us to give him some background while he made himself a sandwich. He had worked through the lunch hour. The kitchen counters were strewn with the residue of a Christmas feast, including the partially gnawed carcass of a turkey which had taken on the dull brown color of leftover meat. I was disappointed that our latest health practitioner was not a vegetarian but had learned that vegetarianism was not a tenant of naturopathy. I told our story as Doug scooped dressing and gravy into a sauce pan and sliced some meat from the turkey’s breastbone for a sandwich. Thus, I had an adequate amount of time to relate our adventures while he ate. He chewed and nodded, asking few questions and when he finished, washed his hands, took a seat opposite Linda, and asked her to remove her shoes. A drop of gravy was stuck to his mustache on the left side of his mouth.
I pulled my chair around so I was sitting between them. They faced each other and I was looking directly at the Computron. It was a computer with a monitor. Douglas Leber handed Linda a piece of copper attached to a wire which led to the Computron. Another wire led to a metal plate which looked like a grill for pancakes. The plate had a well in the center. Doug held a third wire in his hand which had a metal probe on the end. He began his procedure with no introduction or explanation. We had found our way to his mother’s kitchen; it was assumed that we knew why we were there.
On the monitor was an outline of a human hand and a bar graph which rose and fell as Doug touched the probe at different spots on Linda’s fingers. The machine made a kind of whooping noise as the bars on the graph rose and dropped again. It was an eerie sound and, intuitively, Linda and I were able to differentiate between a “good” sound and a “bad” sound. Lots of bad sounds coming from the machine.
Doug worked quickly and silently, occasionally asking a question, frequently laying down his probe to enter data on his keyboard. If I asked a question, he would stop and answer it clearly and in detail. He was an excellent, patient teacher. He was totally into his work, oblivious to time. The pictures on the screen changed as he probed and typed, the Computron whooped and, at intervals, he gave us expositions on the skin as an organ of elimination, Hering’s Law of cure, the problems of toxic burden on the liver, and the polarity of electrons in the blood.
The hours came and went. Doug probed. Linda sat silently. I stared at the monitor. At 3:00 P.M. we had started what was advertised as a two and one-half hour procedure. At 6:00 P.M. Doug’s wife and mother slipped quietly into the kitchen, careful not to disturb his concentration, and removed covered dishes from the refrigerator and carried them back to the dining room. We continued with no breaks. As hunger swept over me, I quit asking questions in order to speed the process. Time was clearly of no concern to the inventor of the Computron. He would probe until the answers were revealed. He was in a healing zone.
Suddenly, I noted the words “geopathic stress” appear on the screen. This startled me.
“What’s geopathic stress?” I asked. I had unintentionally omitted telling him about Joyce and Mr. Mechem when I had recounted our medical history to him.
Doug stopped and carefully answered the question. “There are often noxious emanations, radiations if you will, coming from the ground. These affect you most if they are located where you spend a lot of time—such as your bedroom. These radiations can come from a variety of sources. They won’t always make you ill but if you are ill they can diminish the strength of your immune system and keep you from getting well. Linda has severe geopathic stress.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, playing dumb and wanting to hear more. “There’s something in our bedroom?”
“Probably,” said Doug Leber. “What is it’?” I asked him. “Where is it?” Doug put down the probe and handed me a small piece of paper and a pencil.
“Draw me a diagram of your bedroom,” he ordered. I quickly drew an outline of the bedroom showing the door, windows, and location of the bed. Doug picked up the diagram, laid it on the kitchen table, and placed his hand over it moving it back and forth.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m map dowsing,” he told me. Then he held his hand in front of Linda’s chest, palm out, and moved it back and forth. Turning back to the diagram he picked up the pencil and drew some lines. He picked up the piece of paper and showed it to us.
“You’ve got an underground vein of water which runs sort of east and west through this end of the room,” he told us, indicating a line that ran across the head of our bed. “This is intersected by a Hartman Grid line, a magnetic field, which goes north and south. As you can see it intersects at this point. Who sleeps there?”
“1 do,” said Linda.
“The lines intersect right where your head hits the pillow,” said Doug. “An intersection of these noxious energies creates a hot spot which can be very harmful to health.” “What should we do?” I asked. “You need to move the bed as soon as you get home. That will get you off the top of these energies. You could also get some crystals and line them against the wall, here and here,” he said, indicating the points where the lines hit the wall.
I was in a mild state of shock. For the third time in a month someone, first Joyce, then Mechem, now Doug Leber, had told us we had geopathic energies emanating from beneath the earth located in our bedroom. Two of the three, Mechem and Leber, had arrived at these identical conclusions using only a crudely drawn “map” of the house—or in Doug’s case, of the bedroom. Using only the power of their minds they were somehow able to tap into an information source which provided them details about geopathic rays located in our bedroom in Ashland, Oregon. Mechem was located fifteen miles away in Medford. But Doug Leber was sitting 500 miles away in Seattle. It had been amazing enough that Joyce could detect these things using her pendulum while in the room. Mechem, based on the fact that we had been referred to him by Joyce for a geopathic stress problem, could have made a guess that we had something going on in the bedroom. However, in Leber’s case we had not even raised the question of geopathic stress. He had detected the problem using the Computron and then quickly map-dowsed our bedroom, and had come to the same conclusion as Mr. Mechem.
In that instant, I became a believer in dowsing and in Douglas Leber’s abilities. This was my first corroborated proof of the powers of telepathy, ESP, psychic ability, or whatever one wishes to call it. I knew that when we left that kitchen, we would have answers and remedies. This guy was for real. I experienced a wave of exultation.
We had been at it for four hours. I was surprised that Linda was holding up, surprised she wasn’t complaining of cold feet. The probing continued and now it appeared that he was checking for remedies. I could see lists of names on the screen, names like lobelia, and as Doug moved his cursor down the list the Computron whooped and beeped. Doug bent over and rummaged through his bag and finally found some capsules. He placed them in the well on the metal plate and probed some more. He had Linda hold the copper wire next to her jaw. I couldn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t want to ask.
He handed one of the capsules to her and poured her a glass of bottled water.
“Take this,” he told her. Then he put another identical capsule in front of her. “Take this one in ten minutes.”
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s it doing?” This was Linda’s first question in four hours.
“Your blood is in left spin,” he replied. “This is a type of amino acid. It will spin your blood the other direction and help enable your liver to deal with toxins.”
“That’s good,” Linda said. She was sitting up straighter in her chair, looking brighter than she had in some days.
“I’m feeling better already,” said Linda, smiling at me. She took the other capsule.
“Thank God for the placebo effect,” I thought, too hungry to ask about left-spinning blood.
“Have you figured out what’s wrong?” I finally asked at about 7.30 P.M.
“Just about,” said Doug Leber. “Now I’m figuring out what remedies to give you. My printer isn’t working,” he continued. “If you want to take some notes, I’ll tell you what we’ve got here.”
Finally, after a year and a half, someone was going to tell us something. My hopes were high, my pencil was poised. Here’s what Doug Leber told us:
“Linda has three areas of focal toxicity. A focus is an area where toxins have been stored by the body in an attempt to wall them off. This can take the form of infection or an abscess. The body can normally handle one focal infection without noticeable difficulty. It takes three to throw the body out of balance. Geopathic distur bance counts as an additional focus. So, in effect, you have four. You have an infection in your jaw (ostitis); there’s an abscess in your liver caused by E. histolytica, which is an amoeba you get from drinking water; and there’s a chronic hidden infection in your tear gland which could be caused by a combination of an ant bite and giardia—another amoeba. You’ve had this tear gland (or lachryrnal) infection for many years but your immune system was probably able to keep it in check until all the other problems developed. Now as far as the foci are concerned, natural medicine can assist with reducing toxicity, but if they progress beyond a certain point, as in the case of your jaw, surgery is the indicated procedure.”
I was writing feverishly. Linda sat staring at Doug, rapt with attention, eyes watery.
“I don’t find any evidence of candidiasis or tapeworm, so perhaps your ozone therapy was helpful there. But with all these infections dripping toxins through your body, the immune system is over whelmed, endocrine function becomes weak, digestion becomes inefficient, and as a result of all normal bodily functions and defenses getting out of balance, you continue in a downward spiral. Viruses that live in the body but which normally won’t cause problems begin to gain ground. So, in your case, Linda, I’m finding hepatitis A, Epstein Barr, mumps, and a flu virus— Grippe V ‘90. In addition, you have some metal toxicity from methyl mercury, gold, and lead.”
“What causes me to ache so much?” she asked, on the verge of sobs.
“A lot of it seems to be caused by the infection of the lachryrnal, the tear gland. Also, all of these toxins can cause allergic reactions, so it’s no surprise you’ve had such a variety of symptoms.”
“What do we do?” I asked. Doug Leber was bent over, rummaging through a large black doctor’s satchel. It was very disorganized, and it was nearly five minutes before he found what he was looking for and spoke again.
“Our pretreatment is going to focus on the liver. You’ve already taken an amino acid which will get your blood out of its left spin. We need to clean up the blood so the liver can do its job.”
“Can a liver really regenerate?” I asked him.
“It can if it isn’t substantially damaged. In Linda’s case the liver will heal. It will just take some time. Most important is to get cavitation surgery on the left upper second and third molars— numbers fifteen and sixteen.”
“Where?” asked Linda.
“You need to see a dentist who is a member of the Academy of Biological Dentistry. I’ll give you some names. You need to do this within six weeks.” “We need to give you some adrenal supplements and B vitamins to give you a boost.”
At that moment activity seemed to pick up in the kitchen as Doug’s mother and wife tiptoed past the kitchen table to return dirty dishes. In the days before fancy clinics, when healers made house calls, this was, I supposed, how it was done.
“Here is some B-6, pantothenic acid, and some adrenal formula,” Doug continued. “I’m going to give you four doses of an amino acid. You’ll take two within a ten-minute span every other day. I’m giving you an anti-hepatitis medicine which you take one each day for five days, then skip for five days, and then repeat one a day for five days. Also, I’m giving you some remedies which will knock out the Epstein Barr and flush out the toxic metals. Wait a couple of days to start these and take them at 4:00 in the afternoon. I’m also going to make you a bottle of Lugol’s Iodine water.”
He went to the porch and came back with a large bottle of Crystal Geyser water, removed the cap, and from a small plastic vial, put about two drops into the bottle. He shook it and labeled it.
“I want you to drink eight glasses of pure water every day. Crystal Geyser is the best. This is a very important factor in good health. Tap water has parasites. Good water has quality-controlled PH and oxidation/reduction sensitivity. . .the ions dissolve in water.”
“We have a reverse osmosis system,” I told him. “That’s good.” “The filters need changing,” said Linda.
“Why don’t you drink bottled water for awhile,” he suggested. “Drink two ounces of Lugol’s water a day. Measure it out; don’t guess. This will get your thyroid going. Try and take a coffee enema once a week to help flush out your liver.”
“And move the bed,” said Linda.
“Move the bed,” nodded Doug. “I don’t have my printer so can’t give you a printout today, but I will mail it to you. I’ll also be sending five homeopathic remedies and two botanicals. Those are included in the fee. The capsules are extra.”
I had my checkbook out. “How much should I make this for then?” I asked.
“Seven hundred dollars,” replied Doug.
I wrote him a check while he wrote a receipt. He put the capsules in plastic zip-lock bags and labeled them. It was 9:30 P.M. We had been with him for five and a half hours! Doug had seen only two people that day. We had answers and remedies. We thanked him profusely. He acknowledged the thanks with modesty.
“Get that cavitation surgery as soon as possible,” he told us, handing me a piece of paper with names and phone numbers. “Be patient,” he said to Linda. “You’ll have some ups and downs, but you will get well.”
I find Randy's writing style to be easy and enjoyable to read. The first 14 chapters lead to Chapter 15 which starts dealing with the resolution part of Linda's CFS. In short, they saw a man who did electrodermal screening, and who diagnosed Linda with three focal infections in her body. The main one was in her oral cavity which required cavitation surgery. Linda recovered quickly after having the recommended surgery done.
I first read this book over ten years ago, but had virtually no money at the time to follow up on any of the things that worked for Linda. As I was reviewing some of this tonight, it reminds me of some of the higher priority things that I would like to pursue at this time, including accepting an offer from an acquaintance to do some complimentary SCIO work for me.
Anyway, I thought Randy and Linda's story might be of interest to others here who are open to alternative therapies. It might be especially significant for some on this board who are considering the deleterious role of root canals and/or focal infections.
I'm not certain about this, but I think most conventional MDs poo poo the idea of focal infections, unless they are major and easily identified. From what I can gather, identifying and adequately addressing them can resolve a lot of chronic health conditions.
I think the moral of the story though is "persistence". Randy and Linda just never gave up, and persevered until they found their answers. I t seems everybody's individual answers will be different, but this story illustrates that it does pay to keep looking.
Best to All, Wayne
.....................................................................
Chapter Fifteen -- Doug’s Diagnosis
Here’s all we knew about Douglas Leber before meeting with him at his mother’s house two days after Christmas of 1993.
He received training as a naturopathic doctor in Seattle and was a licensed acupuncturist and colonic therapist. Since his graduation from naturopathic college he had specialized in investigational biomedical research using EAV (electroacupuncture according to Dr. Volt). Leber had developed an investigational tool called the Computron. The Computron was allegedly capable of completing a noninvasive assessment of all systems of the body. A client would hold metal electrodes, and the operator of the Computron would test all acupuncture meridians, organs, and systems of the body. With the Computron Doug Leber would:
1. Conduct a complete noninvasive physical exam and provide a printout of the results.
2. Identify the root cause of symptoms.
3. Test for toxic metals, chemical allergies, food allergies, parasites, and viruses.
4. Identify subhealth conditions before they manifested on standard medical tests.
5. Provide a course of action to restore the health of the body using homeopathics, herbs, vitamins, minerals, and dietary recommendations.
Using the Computron to gather information, he would then look for confirming evidence in the individual’s medical history and symptoms in order to assess problem areas.
Our initial consultation, which was supposed to last approximately two and one-half hours, would cost $500. This would include any initial treatments and homeopathic remedies. According to our information from Dr. Bart, Douglas Leber was also working with a biochemist on special formulas for chronic degenerative diseases including candida and Epstein Barr virus. The cost of these remedies, if prescribed, would be extra.
This information, even though we decided to act on it, was confusing. The Computron, in the hands of Douglas Leber, purportedly could do everything we had been trying to do for the previous year and a half. It promised a diagnosis to the level of root causes and a course of treatment. How could it be that simple? Why didn’t every doctor have a Computron in his or her office? I was nearly a full-fledged advocate of alternative medicine although, as yet, it had not worked for us. The Computon, though, exuded the stinky sniff of quackery.
I called Bart back to ask him how it worked. He told me he really didn’t know. It had something to do with electrical differences in the body. He also told me that Douglas Leber had seen eighteen people in Hawaii that week, many of whom were friends and acquaintances. We had a control group.
“He travels all over the world,” said Bart.
“Why don’t people come to him?” I wondered.
“1 don’t know,” Bart replied. “Just make sure you keep that appointment.”
Noble and Kendra were traveling with us to my parent’s house for Christmas. We kenneled the cats and loaded our Suburban, installing the third seat so Linda could use it as a bed. Kendra made a nest for her of quilts and pillows. We locked the house and headed north on Interstate 5. At rest stops we would laboriously remove Linda from the third seat, help squeeze moccasins onto her fat, swollen feet, and help her walk to the ladies room. She wore a skirt with an elastic waistband for easy access. Her fingers were so swollen and stiff she could not zip or button for herself. She could barely pull up and pull down.
When we arrived at my mom and dad’s condo, Linda went straight to bed and, except for brief interludes, stayed there through Christmas, sleeping a lot, eating little, racked with pains. Each night, as had become our habit, she would wake me up once or twice to massage the particularly painful areas so she could sleep some more. Linda was gathering strength for her next adventure.
Our appointment was set for 1:00 P.M. on the 27th, and we left before noon to drive the forty miles or so to Douglas Leber’s mother’s house. He didn’t live in Hawaii; his residence was somewhere in the southwest, and he was at his mother’s for Christmas before returning home.
His directions were very clear, and we found the white farmhouse which sat with its outbuildings like an oasis surrounded by shopping centers. We arrived early. It was 12:30 P.M. and, at first, no one answered the back door, which was a screen door leading to a porch. From where I stood knocking I could see part of the kitchen, and at the end of the kitchen table sat a man holding onto a wire.
Finally, a sixtyish woman with neatly curled and colored hair came to the door and invited us in. I waved to Linda to follow but had to go back to the car, as the door was too heavy for her to open by herself. We followed the smiling gray-haired woman into her living room. Once again, instead of finding ourselves in a modern medical clinic, we were in someone’s living room, looking for help.
The house was decorated for Christmas with a large tree and hundreds of dolls, which Doug’s mother had collected from around the world. There were many large elf-like creatures standing near the fireplace and in corners and alcoves of the old house which added to the surreal aspect of this experience. Linda sat weakly on a couch and tried to make conversation with Doug’s mother—a lively, energetic woman who did her best to keep us company while we waited. And as we were to end up waiting for two and a half hours, she was able to relate her interesting life story and details of many of her travels. It was difficult for me to concentrate on her tales. I was anxious to get Linda hooked up to the Computron and find out what it did. Doug’s mother focused her energies on Linda, no doubt recognizing she needed a boost, and the two and a half hours passed relatively quickly while we waited for Doug to finish with his current client.
Finally, as 3:00 P.M. arrived we were ushered into the kitchen where the Computron was set up on the kitchen table. Douglas Leber then appeared, a very large man dressed in loose beige clothing, his head covered with longish curly black hair, his face wreathed by a bushy black beard. I couldn’t guess his age. He was somewhere between thirty and forty. He was large, wide, substantial looking. His face, though obscured, was extremely kind and he radiated intelligence. He was not what I expected. Bait had provided no physical description. Linda took a seat in a kitchen chair, and I pulled one up beside her. I was lugging a gym bag full of vitamins and supplements, as Bart had told us Leber could check their efficacy on his machine.
Doug Leber invited us to give him some background while he made himself a sandwich. He had worked through the lunch hour. The kitchen counters were strewn with the residue of a Christmas feast, including the partially gnawed carcass of a turkey which had taken on the dull brown color of leftover meat. I was disappointed that our latest health practitioner was not a vegetarian but had learned that vegetarianism was not a tenant of naturopathy. I told our story as Doug scooped dressing and gravy into a sauce pan and sliced some meat from the turkey’s breastbone for a sandwich. Thus, I had an adequate amount of time to relate our adventures while he ate. He chewed and nodded, asking few questions and when he finished, washed his hands, took a seat opposite Linda, and asked her to remove her shoes. A drop of gravy was stuck to his mustache on the left side of his mouth.
I pulled my chair around so I was sitting between them. They faced each other and I was looking directly at the Computron. It was a computer with a monitor. Douglas Leber handed Linda a piece of copper attached to a wire which led to the Computron. Another wire led to a metal plate which looked like a grill for pancakes. The plate had a well in the center. Doug held a third wire in his hand which had a metal probe on the end. He began his procedure with no introduction or explanation. We had found our way to his mother’s kitchen; it was assumed that we knew why we were there.
On the monitor was an outline of a human hand and a bar graph which rose and fell as Doug touched the probe at different spots on Linda’s fingers. The machine made a kind of whooping noise as the bars on the graph rose and dropped again. It was an eerie sound and, intuitively, Linda and I were able to differentiate between a “good” sound and a “bad” sound. Lots of bad sounds coming from the machine.
Doug worked quickly and silently, occasionally asking a question, frequently laying down his probe to enter data on his keyboard. If I asked a question, he would stop and answer it clearly and in detail. He was an excellent, patient teacher. He was totally into his work, oblivious to time. The pictures on the screen changed as he probed and typed, the Computron whooped and, at intervals, he gave us expositions on the skin as an organ of elimination, Hering’s Law of cure, the problems of toxic burden on the liver, and the polarity of electrons in the blood.
The hours came and went. Doug probed. Linda sat silently. I stared at the monitor. At 3:00 P.M. we had started what was advertised as a two and one-half hour procedure. At 6:00 P.M. Doug’s wife and mother slipped quietly into the kitchen, careful not to disturb his concentration, and removed covered dishes from the refrigerator and carried them back to the dining room. We continued with no breaks. As hunger swept over me, I quit asking questions in order to speed the process. Time was clearly of no concern to the inventor of the Computron. He would probe until the answers were revealed. He was in a healing zone.
Suddenly, I noted the words “geopathic stress” appear on the screen. This startled me.
“What’s geopathic stress?” I asked. I had unintentionally omitted telling him about Joyce and Mr. Mechem when I had recounted our medical history to him.
Doug stopped and carefully answered the question. “There are often noxious emanations, radiations if you will, coming from the ground. These affect you most if they are located where you spend a lot of time—such as your bedroom. These radiations can come from a variety of sources. They won’t always make you ill but if you are ill they can diminish the strength of your immune system and keep you from getting well. Linda has severe geopathic stress.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, playing dumb and wanting to hear more. “There’s something in our bedroom?”
“Probably,” said Doug Leber. “What is it’?” I asked him. “Where is it?” Doug put down the probe and handed me a small piece of paper and a pencil.
“Draw me a diagram of your bedroom,” he ordered. I quickly drew an outline of the bedroom showing the door, windows, and location of the bed. Doug picked up the diagram, laid it on the kitchen table, and placed his hand over it moving it back and forth.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m map dowsing,” he told me. Then he held his hand in front of Linda’s chest, palm out, and moved it back and forth. Turning back to the diagram he picked up the pencil and drew some lines. He picked up the piece of paper and showed it to us.
“You’ve got an underground vein of water which runs sort of east and west through this end of the room,” he told us, indicating a line that ran across the head of our bed. “This is intersected by a Hartman Grid line, a magnetic field, which goes north and south. As you can see it intersects at this point. Who sleeps there?”
“1 do,” said Linda.
“The lines intersect right where your head hits the pillow,” said Doug. “An intersection of these noxious energies creates a hot spot which can be very harmful to health.” “What should we do?” I asked. “You need to move the bed as soon as you get home. That will get you off the top of these energies. You could also get some crystals and line them against the wall, here and here,” he said, indicating the points where the lines hit the wall.
I was in a mild state of shock. For the third time in a month someone, first Joyce, then Mechem, now Doug Leber, had told us we had geopathic energies emanating from beneath the earth located in our bedroom. Two of the three, Mechem and Leber, had arrived at these identical conclusions using only a crudely drawn “map” of the house—or in Doug’s case, of the bedroom. Using only the power of their minds they were somehow able to tap into an information source which provided them details about geopathic rays located in our bedroom in Ashland, Oregon. Mechem was located fifteen miles away in Medford. But Doug Leber was sitting 500 miles away in Seattle. It had been amazing enough that Joyce could detect these things using her pendulum while in the room. Mechem, based on the fact that we had been referred to him by Joyce for a geopathic stress problem, could have made a guess that we had something going on in the bedroom. However, in Leber’s case we had not even raised the question of geopathic stress. He had detected the problem using the Computron and then quickly map-dowsed our bedroom, and had come to the same conclusion as Mr. Mechem.
In that instant, I became a believer in dowsing and in Douglas Leber’s abilities. This was my first corroborated proof of the powers of telepathy, ESP, psychic ability, or whatever one wishes to call it. I knew that when we left that kitchen, we would have answers and remedies. This guy was for real. I experienced a wave of exultation.
We had been at it for four hours. I was surprised that Linda was holding up, surprised she wasn’t complaining of cold feet. The probing continued and now it appeared that he was checking for remedies. I could see lists of names on the screen, names like lobelia, and as Doug moved his cursor down the list the Computron whooped and beeped. Doug bent over and rummaged through his bag and finally found some capsules. He placed them in the well on the metal plate and probed some more. He had Linda hold the copper wire next to her jaw. I couldn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t want to ask.
He handed one of the capsules to her and poured her a glass of bottled water.
“Take this,” he told her. Then he put another identical capsule in front of her. “Take this one in ten minutes.”
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s it doing?” This was Linda’s first question in four hours.
“Your blood is in left spin,” he replied. “This is a type of amino acid. It will spin your blood the other direction and help enable your liver to deal with toxins.”
“That’s good,” Linda said. She was sitting up straighter in her chair, looking brighter than she had in some days.
“I’m feeling better already,” said Linda, smiling at me. She took the other capsule.
“Thank God for the placebo effect,” I thought, too hungry to ask about left-spinning blood.
“Have you figured out what’s wrong?” I finally asked at about 7.30 P.M.
“Just about,” said Doug Leber. “Now I’m figuring out what remedies to give you. My printer isn’t working,” he continued. “If you want to take some notes, I’ll tell you what we’ve got here.”
Finally, after a year and a half, someone was going to tell us something. My hopes were high, my pencil was poised. Here’s what Doug Leber told us:
“Linda has three areas of focal toxicity. A focus is an area where toxins have been stored by the body in an attempt to wall them off. This can take the form of infection or an abscess. The body can normally handle one focal infection without noticeable difficulty. It takes three to throw the body out of balance. Geopathic distur bance counts as an additional focus. So, in effect, you have four. You have an infection in your jaw (ostitis); there’s an abscess in your liver caused by E. histolytica, which is an amoeba you get from drinking water; and there’s a chronic hidden infection in your tear gland which could be caused by a combination of an ant bite and giardia—another amoeba. You’ve had this tear gland (or lachryrnal) infection for many years but your immune system was probably able to keep it in check until all the other problems developed. Now as far as the foci are concerned, natural medicine can assist with reducing toxicity, but if they progress beyond a certain point, as in the case of your jaw, surgery is the indicated procedure.”
I was writing feverishly. Linda sat staring at Doug, rapt with attention, eyes watery.
“I don’t find any evidence of candidiasis or tapeworm, so perhaps your ozone therapy was helpful there. But with all these infections dripping toxins through your body, the immune system is over whelmed, endocrine function becomes weak, digestion becomes inefficient, and as a result of all normal bodily functions and defenses getting out of balance, you continue in a downward spiral. Viruses that live in the body but which normally won’t cause problems begin to gain ground. So, in your case, Linda, I’m finding hepatitis A, Epstein Barr, mumps, and a flu virus— Grippe V ‘90. In addition, you have some metal toxicity from methyl mercury, gold, and lead.”
“What causes me to ache so much?” she asked, on the verge of sobs.
“A lot of it seems to be caused by the infection of the lachryrnal, the tear gland. Also, all of these toxins can cause allergic reactions, so it’s no surprise you’ve had such a variety of symptoms.”
“What do we do?” I asked. Doug Leber was bent over, rummaging through a large black doctor’s satchel. It was very disorganized, and it was nearly five minutes before he found what he was looking for and spoke again.
“Our pretreatment is going to focus on the liver. You’ve already taken an amino acid which will get your blood out of its left spin. We need to clean up the blood so the liver can do its job.”
“Can a liver really regenerate?” I asked him.
“It can if it isn’t substantially damaged. In Linda’s case the liver will heal. It will just take some time. Most important is to get cavitation surgery on the left upper second and third molars— numbers fifteen and sixteen.”
“Where?” asked Linda.
“You need to see a dentist who is a member of the Academy of Biological Dentistry. I’ll give you some names. You need to do this within six weeks.” “We need to give you some adrenal supplements and B vitamins to give you a boost.”
At that moment activity seemed to pick up in the kitchen as Doug’s mother and wife tiptoed past the kitchen table to return dirty dishes. In the days before fancy clinics, when healers made house calls, this was, I supposed, how it was done.
“Here is some B-6, pantothenic acid, and some adrenal formula,” Doug continued. “I’m going to give you four doses of an amino acid. You’ll take two within a ten-minute span every other day. I’m giving you an anti-hepatitis medicine which you take one each day for five days, then skip for five days, and then repeat one a day for five days. Also, I’m giving you some remedies which will knock out the Epstein Barr and flush out the toxic metals. Wait a couple of days to start these and take them at 4:00 in the afternoon. I’m also going to make you a bottle of Lugol’s Iodine water.”
He went to the porch and came back with a large bottle of Crystal Geyser water, removed the cap, and from a small plastic vial, put about two drops into the bottle. He shook it and labeled it.
“I want you to drink eight glasses of pure water every day. Crystal Geyser is the best. This is a very important factor in good health. Tap water has parasites. Good water has quality-controlled PH and oxidation/reduction sensitivity. . .the ions dissolve in water.”
“We have a reverse osmosis system,” I told him. “That’s good.” “The filters need changing,” said Linda.
“Why don’t you drink bottled water for awhile,” he suggested. “Drink two ounces of Lugol’s water a day. Measure it out; don’t guess. This will get your thyroid going. Try and take a coffee enema once a week to help flush out your liver.”
“And move the bed,” said Linda.
“Move the bed,” nodded Doug. “I don’t have my printer so can’t give you a printout today, but I will mail it to you. I’ll also be sending five homeopathic remedies and two botanicals. Those are included in the fee. The capsules are extra.”
I had my checkbook out. “How much should I make this for then?” I asked.
“Seven hundred dollars,” replied Doug.
I wrote him a check while he wrote a receipt. He put the capsules in plastic zip-lock bags and labeled them. It was 9:30 P.M. We had been with him for five and a half hours! Doug had seen only two people that day. We had answers and remedies. We thanked him profusely. He acknowledged the thanks with modesty.
“Get that cavitation surgery as soon as possible,” he told us, handing me a piece of paper with names and phone numbers. “Be patient,” he said to Linda. “You’ll have some ups and downs, but you will get well.”
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