I was relieved. At least it wasn't Ebola. It was "just a bug, right?"
I suspected monkey meat. I had recently read Hot Zone, a book on the Ebola virus in which the index patient has contact with a simian. I had tasted medium-rare monkey with a nearly extinct tribe known as the Senoi Temiar. In addition to fever, I also detected a fresh and mysterious lump, the size of an organic free-farm egg, under my armpit.
I was called in to see a doctor after a blood test. She didn't raise her eyes to greet me. Her index finger told me to "hold a sec." She read through a report, picked up a telephone, and pressed a short dial.
"We have a code nine three… " she said, and placed the phone back into the cradle.
The good news was that I was lucky to have come to the hospital to get checked, because judging by my blood values, I would have lived about three days without treatment.
The bad news was that the bug that was hijacking my bloodstream had no identity. I had to be treated with antibiotics immediately, but she wasn't sure which one, yet.
Before she had a chance to respond, two big dudes in white overalls pushed through the door. I'd seen them earlier in the hallway wrestling one patient into what seemed to be a straitjacket. I wondered if they were part time bikers. One of them told me to lie down on a stretcher.
My brain swerved to Paranoia Drive. While they pushed me through an underground hallway, chatting about their weekend plans, and ignoring my queries about our final destination, I gained my first real appreciation for microbial lifeforms.
We're divided down to the particle. A sum total of 100 trillion micro-organisms fool us with singularity. Hundreds of thousands of microbial species exchange and trade nutrients, chemicals, information, and energy to keep the mother ship ticking. It's a balance you don't want to disrupt — although due to the standard toxic load that comes with modern living, it's probably too late.
I was on antibiotics in the jungle and then quit, two or three pills early. My resistance was already down from lack of sleep and travel. From a microbial perspective, I'd carpet-bombed a civilization, and left the fittest Spartans to evolve.
The survivors had to fight off a Rommel barrage of intravenous antibiotics in the hospital. I lost 24 pounds in three days. My tongue and throat blew up with boils- from an allergic reaction to the antibiotics. My mother didn't recognize me.
I read Breakfast Of Champions in record time, trying to escape from my predicament.
A doctor walked in and discovered a despondent blow fish. He took a brief look at me, whispered to the nurse, and left. She leaned over and said that there was one more experimental drug on the way.
"This is the one," she said and tapped my shoulder.
I shared the ward with an 89-year-old, classic era cinematographer. Kaarle also had an infection. He'd been under the dripper for two days. He joked that we had about the same lifespan left. He also explained how to use three hours to frame a perfect shot. The camera had to be bolted to the floor. He even mentioned the size of the steel bolts. That was on a Sunday; on Tuesday he was dead.
Two days after Kaarle's departure, I was still under the dripper, with the new experimental antibiotic going frontal against the "300" – the last frontier of super Spartans. As the temperature in my brain increased, a liquid blue metal flooded my dreams. I flowed through a red haze, leaving a wake of dead, frosty blood cells behind. I was the liquid version of Mr. Freeze, personifying the poison in my veins.
I woke up to a pain in my wrist where the needle had been inserted. It felt like an icicle that was about to crack. They'd been pumping this stuff into me, err, for how long? I was delirious. I sensed someone was in the room and mumbled that she was "a bad witch." Whoever was in the room responded very calmly and said that the dropper was warm.
A moment later, she disconnected the needle.
A day later, she gave me blueberry yogurt.
I walked out of the hospital as if nothing ever happened. And nothing ever would.
It's Time To Wage Peace. One Drop Is Enough To Start The Détente.
I repeated the mistake a decade later. This time I opened the gateway to a gang of parasites from an underground Voodoo cavern in Haiti. To shoot the ritual – a first for a white man – I stood in feces, blood, and entrails, a bacteriological Shangri-La. And I was taking Zipro as a countermeasure. Big mistake.
By the time I was back in the U.S., I started losing weight again, quick. Ten pounds in a week. Cedars Sinai concluded that two of the three parasites were unidentifiable. A natural doctor identified two more unidentifiable visitors. Cedars prescribed more antibiotics. The natural doctor meanwhile told me to give up sugar, do a herbal parasite cleanse, and under no circumstance touch antibiotics.
If you're newbie to parasites, you'll most likely end up going with antibiotics. Since I'd already made that mistake twice, I went for the herbs. Pumpkin seeds, wormwood, propolis, trace minerals, garlic, cloves, neem, thyme, marshmallow root, cinchona, and what looked like Chinese crackers. I dropped two-thirds of my menu and bar items. I went all the way to a neighboring galaxy, with an Amazonian medicine, thinking it would disenfranchise me from the critters.
What I was really doing, however, was closing the door on them temporarily. If you fail your body (with bad nutrition, for example) or your mind (with stress, for example), you create an opening for them. Sometimes, if your immune system is on the edge, all it takes is a full moon to turn the handle.
Parasites play on a higher level than bacteria do, judging from their ability to mess with our biosphere. They have influence over not just our biological, but also our mental domain. They're present in most humans, although only a minority of us are aware of them.
The load factor on our immune system increases with the presence of parasites. Their trigger systems are delicate. They can tip over a weak resistance and then take over. You will certainly sense them, but never in exactly the same way. It's like dealing with conniving shape-shifters, who have the ability to mess with both your gut and your neurotransmitters (read: behavior).
It gets weirder. The timing with the full moon is no joke. Parasitic symptoms often begin two or three days before the lunar disc is complete. The manifestation is individual. In pronounced cases you may experience fever, hallucinations, and/or intermittent vomiting. Whatever the symptoms, they are usually exacerbated between sunset and sunrise. Some full moons you may feel nothing, which is even more insidious (they're probably regrouping).
Parasitic influence on our body and mind should be the subject of serious scientific study, but it's not. Humans play host to hundreds of identified species that can infect the brain, the digestive system, the lungs, liver, muscles and joints, the throat, blood, skin, and the eyes. We don't know anything about the majority, the unidentified ones, except that they range from microscopic to several feet long like the tapeworm. We also know almost nothing about their modus operandi.
We do know, however, that they are difficult to kill.
About a year later I took a vacation in Ibiza and broke all the rules. Only the folks who've visited Ibiza know how many ways there are to mess up your biology. Once I returned, my gut went haywire. It was a hard relapse, complete with hallucinations and vomiting. I saw slithery creatures in my bed transform into human-shaped larvae. The creatures would fade in and out of periphery as long as the full moon hung over the horizon. I experienced mood shifts that caused me to burn several relationships. My energy levels went down to 10 percent.
It was my third warning not to contend with smart bugs.
Parasites are our most resistant intruders. Once you're prone to them, managing them becomes part of your lifestyle. They will mess you up, unless you clean up. Then they will try to mess you up anyway. Figuring out a lifestyle and a nutrient regimen that successfully contains parasites can take years. Unless you get lucky.
I got lucky, by accident. A jellyfish sting led me to try our natural, silver-based lotion. It took out a painful swelling in a matter of minutes, which got me curious about what else it could do.
Over the next year, colloidal silver helped me wipe out a throat infection, a flu, a hand that I burned in a stove, two food poisonings, and an infected thumbnail.
Despite its potency, there is very little information you can get about colloidal silver through mainstream channels. Mostly natural doctors and regular users attest to its healing power (NASA is one exception, having recently chosen colloidal silver as the staple antimicrobial on ISIS space station). Dr. Rima Laibow, director of the Natural Solutions Foundation, lists over 638 exotic and common bugs, including common flu and the not-so-common flesh-eating MRSA superbugs that silver wipes out in lab conditions.
Users often claim that "they never get sick" when they drink colloidal silver. It may sound like a holistic myth, but it is exactly what happens. When it comes to bug control no modern medicine or natural herb can compete with the power of pure colloidal silver. No Middle Age spells are necessary. Although commonly relegated to quack status by modern medicine, silver works with a powerful, natural principle. It disables the base, *(substrate), from which bacteria propagate, thereby inhibiting pathogenic microbes from warring up. And unlike antibiotics, it doesn't mess up your immune system.
Parasites reproduce by laying eggs that carry an oxygen-metabolizing enzyme. The eggs cannot hatch when there is a sufficient amount of silver in the surrounding area.
My next parasite relapse occurred even though I was on a clean diet and life regimen. All it took was a sufficient amount of stress and lack of sleep. As soon as I felt the symptoms, I took 8 ounces of Silver Healer colloidal per day for the first three days, then continued with 4 ounces per day for about a week. Doing this cut down my recuperation time from an average of 2-3 weeks to four days. Overall, cyclical recurrence was cut down from every 3-6 months to minimum every two years.
Silver is not a miracle panacea, however. It tips the balance in your favor if you take care of yourself with healthy nutrition, hydration,sunshine, and rest. For nutrition, the most important thing is to avoid sugar in all its forms, dairy products, processed foods and alcohol. For exercise, high intensity, short workouts tend to blast the alien visitors better than slow marathon runs. One can kill bugs with silver, but when it comes to parasites, a lifestyle change is usually a necessary companion.
The only challenge with colloidal silver is that it flushes out of your system with urine and sweat. It's only reactive for as long as it attaches to the infected cell walls. To experience a full healing effect, you have to be a regular user, and in case of acute infections, drink a considerable amount.
The only superior alternative to colloidal silver is chelated silver oxide, a pated formulation that will be known as Silver Excelsior. Silver Excelsior is the power of chelated silver oxide compressed into 4000ppm (parts per million) serum. With zero-toxicity, there is no risk of overdose if you need a stronger formulation to zap bugs. Eight drops of Silver Excelsior yield's 8oz of 100ppm chelated silver. That's eight times more powerful than the regular colloidal silver you pay $40 for. It's enough to disable a full moon parasitic D-Day. Or wipe out a stomach bug or food poisoning in 30 seconds flat.
Chelation solves the issue of bioavailability, which is inherent in colloidal silver, by attaching a silver molecule to protein molecules. The organic coupling helps the silver molecules tie into the infected areas, instead of flushing out too quickly. Chelation increases bioavailability from a few seconds to an hour or more, increasing the healing potential by a factor of 100-200.
Silver has been a powerful healer for people in the know (traditionally, royals and the wealthy elite) for millennia. Today, it deserves wide-scale adoption as an actual, functional defense against the threat of antimicrobial resistance.
In April 2016, an entirely new generation of Spartans was identified in a 49-year old Pennsylvania woman. Modern doctors warn that the first pan-resistant superbug heralds the end of antibiotics and the beginning of a global antibiotic resistant epidemic.
The doomsday projections are based on the belief that antibiotics are our last line of defense against smart bugs, when in fact the opposite is true. We raised a generation of microbial jihadists by waging an unnatural war against them.
Jan Wellmann is co-founder of HoneyColony, an independent investigative journalist and entrepreneur focusing on alternative health & energy. Follow him at @janwe or his blog.