Bee venom therapy for MS
Who could have predicted my diagnosis of MS in early 2000? At 53 I was healthy and fit and joyous, ready to begin the next adventurous phase of my life.
My brain became jumbled and crowded with theories. I needed to blame this on something. I had recently been through the upheaval of a divorce. Could this emotional turmoil phase have been the culprit? Was it pesticides, the pollution from the power plant nearby, the additives in my body cream? Or possibly Lyme disease? My two Labs were diagnosed with Lyme at the same time, and I did notice a small rash on my back, which a young doctor had dismissed as nothing to worry about.
During the next few years I heard many stories of women who had also been diagnosed with MS: a young healthy runner-artist on my island, another young mother-designer in a neighboring town, and the wife of a furniture designer friend in Portland [Maine]. I was incredulous. I felt this was the designer illness of the 2000s, just as mitral valve prolapse had been during the 1980s. (I was diagnosed with MVP, as were two of my neighbors, during the mid-1980s—it has since vamoosed.)
I knew immediately that I would never take any drugs, as I was dubious of the illness anyway and felt totally uncomfortable introducing a serious manufactured drug-company product into my energetic living system. My body said no—even when another acquaintance told me that not taking the drugs was akin to driving without a seatbelt. For me, taking the alien drugs was the danger.
Margaret Lawrence, an artist friend, introduced me to Susan and Theo Cherbuliez, who had just moved to our area with their bees and their friendliness. Margaret thought that their work in apitherapy might be something to investigate. Theo and Susan are vital members of the AAS who began sharing their wisdom and experience of the bees with me, my family, and my friends.
Theo began stinging my feet and spine over a period of two years. Now, if necessary, I order a box of bees from Ferris Apiaries in Maryland. I take my mixture of royal jelly, pollen, and propolis three times a day.
During these past few years, the story of apitherapy and the bees has been my manifesto. I sing it across backyards and in coffee shops. The journey has been wondrous. I am healthier than ever. I have hope, energy, and curiosity about the future and am ready to spread the word of the healing power of the hive. All this is significantly different from the unnatural, pitiful, tragic, “woe is me” perspective that I first felt in the neurologist’s office seven years ago.
- Carol Bass
January 07, 2009