I always get the question “Why are you so passionate about natural and alternative medicine?” and “How is it that you have so much practical knowledge about these things?”
Those questions are never easy for me to answer in a politically correct and socially correct way. It was never my choice, and I didn’t grow up dreaming to be a doctor or an advocate for personal responsibility and natural health. I did, however, grow up believing that we, as beings, should be solution oriented, rather than problem oriented… and I’ve always understood that necessity is the mother of invention. I also learned to believe that “giving up” is synonymous with death, be it a dream, an idea, or even a life.
And I never give up.
Life, I learned, should be as it is until there is not one more breath left to take: Living. I learned to define living in terms of love, light and this-very-moment-now, and no matter how often I fell short of my high ideals, these ideas became my compass, and I slowly learned how to be able to stand still in the center of the storms… and storms, there have been many!
For those who have read my book, some of the stories shared give a glimpse of amazing people forced to live life on life’s terms when life’s terms haven’t been very kind… and have triumphed. But there are many stories that have remained untold.
This is one of those stories: How I discovered the power of oligodynamic silver.
The birth of one’s child should be a joyous occasion. And for my son Nicholas, still tucked comfortably away in his mother’s warm inner embrace, life must have been comfortable, indeed! His mother and I were nervous, but her pregnancy had gone very well. I’m a very firm believer in a mother’s rights (after all, it’s her body, not mine), and she elected to do a standard western hospital birth.
When she was finally admitted into the hospital to give birth, we had no reason to suspect that anything would go wrong. After long hours of labor had passed, the medical staff concluded that a C-section was required due to the increasing levels of distress of the baby. A C-section was not what I had in mind, but my son’s mother trusted the medical doctors.
A few short hours later I was standing in the operating room holding my newborn son. I was probably more terrified than overjoyed, but I was greatly relieved that everything had gone well. My son was perfectly healthy, and his mother came through the operation with no problems.
They rushed us out of the hospital, and we were home in three days. I had to get back to work, so Nicholas’ mother stayed home to begin to learn the pitfalls of parenting.
Two days later she elected to go back to the hospital with complaints of abdominal pain. The distracted medical doctors hardly gave the c-section wound a glance, and told her that the pain was normal; they prescribed her some ibuprofen and sent her home. I mentioned that prescription strength ibuprofen was very hard on the liver, but didn’t object when she took it; nobody likes to see loved ones in pain.
Two days later she was back in the hospital, and again was sent home.
The next day she spiked a serious fever, and was back in the emergency room, being seen by a medical student. The medical student examined her, and if I remember correctly was going to recommend Tylenol for the fever–and send her home. I was just getting ready to open my mouth and start screaming at him when a well aged doctor happened to glance in as he was walking by.
He walked into the room, tapped her abdomen twice, and turned white. In a soft yet lethally insistent voice, he said: “Get this woman prepped for surgery.”
The next few days were a blur. I was a stranger in a strange town, far away from home. We had wanted to explore New Mexico, so we had moved to Albuqerque, and we knew very few people. I immediately had to quit my job to take care of my son, and spent the first week focusing on learning how to be a single parent.
I also had to work on acquiring some healing clay, as we had brought very little with us (or this wouldn’t have happened to begin with). Busy trying to figure out how to survive, I trusted the medical professionals to do their jobs.
The doctor who so coincidentally happened to wander through the emergency room at the exact right moment was an infectious disease specialist, and he took on her case. He informed me that she had a hospital strain, antibiotic resistant triple infection that had become a flesh-eating disease.
I will say he was a very competent medical doctor. However, that didn’t make him any less powerless than I was to deal with this infection that was literally eating this young woman from the inside out. Day after day, the surgeon would have to go in and cut out the dead and dying soft tissue. They would have to clear an entire floor of the hospital because nobody could (nor should anyone have to) tolerate the soul wrenching screams issued from her as they sliced and diced her.
No antibiotics worked, and she ran a 103-105 degree fever that they could not break.
I quickly learned by about day seven that the hospital staff was in over their heads. I started researching and emailing universities, research institutes, anyone whom I thought could offer some insight.
They all ignored me.
Finally, I acquired some therapeutic clay. However, her condition was too critical to be moved, and there was no way I could bring therapeutic clay into the hospital. I considered potent herbs, but she had not been able to stomach anything but ice chips; they had to feed her intravenously, and she was more unconscious than conscious. I could hardly bear to look her in the eyes when she was awake; the pain and suffering was more than any human should have to endure… and I was powerless to do anything at all.
I spent two or three days fighting with the doctors. I wanted them to try hyperbaric oxygen, and they refused, citing not enough research had been done. They amped up the “gorilla three” antibiotics. They fed her ice chips. Day after day they cut a larger and larger hole deep into her abdomen.
At about day 20 I started getting desperate. I could tell by the energy of all of the hospital staff, that nobody expected her to live. The doctor stopped all antibiotics, as the only thing they were doing was starting to knock out her organs.
One of those nights, I’m not sure which one… I was reading articles on infectious disease, and I stumbled upon an article by a man named Peter Lindemman. The article was interesting, well-balanced, and well written. I had read a lot of hype articles written by people I knew didn’t know what they were talking about, but there was something about Lindemman that kept me reading.
If I had stumbled upon any other article on colloidal silver, I most likely would have dismissed it without a second thought. His article moved me from a place of desperation to a place of creativity. I thought to myself: “Wow, a 5-10 PPM silver solution was almost just plain distilled water… she can tolerate ice chips, I bet she could tolerate CS.”
The biggest problem I faced was a lack of knowledge and a lack of money. I managed to pay the rent and the bills, but had about twenty-five to thirty dollars left to my name. I had food and supplies for Nicholas, but no food for myself.
I chose to purchase four nine volt batteries, and found a jewelry supplier that just happened to carry 99.99% silver wire. By the time I got done buying the supplies I needed, I only had pocket change left.
I didn’t just blindly trust the words of Peter. I began researching what others had to say about the medicinal properties of silver, and what I found made me nervous. Silver had a bad reputation, and I found so much fear mongering and nay saying. Forums were ripe with loud “knowledgeable” individuals speaking with such a fervor, that if I wasn’t already an accomplished researcher, I may have been scared off. However, contempt prior to investigation is something that clearly labels an individual a fool, and I didn’t find one single loud or quiet voice that had any research to show that it didn’t…or even shouldn’t…be an effective agent.
Never-the-less, I almost cringed when I took my first sip of my home-brew silver. I took another. Then another. I drank a cup. Then two. Then I made and drank a 16 ounce bottle. I did this for three days, and I when I didn’t turn blue or keel over… I began to relax. As an energetically sensitive individual, I felt that my body really had no problem with it at all. I realized after studying the EPA’s document that if too much silver built up in my system, I risked changing the color of my skin. I crunched the numbers, and realized that I would likely never have the need to consume enough silver to risk the “dreaded” Argyria condition, and if I DID, then a change to skin tone would likely be the least of my worries.
I was finally ready to hatch my plan. I waited until 11:00 pm, when all of the hospital staff would be lazy and uninterested in anything. I had special permission to visit off hours, and I planned to use it to my advantage.
I hid a sixteen ounce bottle of CS under my shirt, and walked through the hospital to the room where my son’s mother was lying unconscious. Nobody gave me a second look. I set the bottle down on a table, and waited for her to awake.
It wasn’t long before she was semi-conscious. In a low voice, I tried to explain to her what I wanted to do, but it was clear that she didn’t understand me. Finally, I just picked up the bottle, took a drink myself, then poured some into her mouth. She dutifully swallowed, and I kept this up until about half was gone, and she had drifted off into sleep.
I went home, still scheming. I came up with a secondary plan. If the silver didn’t work through the stomach, then perhaps it would work better directly into the blood stream. I figured with some creativity, I could spike her TP bag (the IV feeding bag) without anyone noticing, but I’d have to figure out a way to get some syringes first.
It turns out, that was not necessary.
I returned to the hospital the next morning. I was greeted by the morning nurse.
“Good morning, Jason! You won’t believe this, but after running a 103-105 temperature for nearly 30 days, her fever broke this morning! Just like that, for no reason!”
She was still fast asleep, and had been since last night.
Five days later, I was able to take her out of that soulless, dark, haunted building they call a hospital. During her final days at the hospital, she drank about eight ounces of CS daily. The infection disappeared and she began to heal. However, the hole in her abdomen was giant enough to fit a football in. The MD’s had to do two skin grafts: One to hold her organs in place in her abdomen, and one to cover the gaping abdominal wound. They took most of the skin off of her thighs to do it.
Finally at home, I set off to make certain the wound actually healed this time. At first, she didn’t want anything to do with the clay, as she was still severely traumatized and scared. But the pain got to her, and she quickly discovered that clay poultices over her abdominal wound greatly diminished the pain, making the healing process tolerable.
The home healthcare nurses would come and dress the wound with their torturous chemicals, then leave. I would undress the wound, and redress it with a clay silver formulation, then redress it the next day before they came again.
One day, the home healthcare people walked through the door with what looked very similar to a pair of pliers. They told me this is how they removed the barbaric staples used to hold the skin on her legs in place. They set about like construction workers to rip and tear the staples out until my son’s mother’s screaming was so loud that I fired them.
I used clay to gently pull the sixty or seventy staples out. The tissue would simply just open up, and the staples fell out. The process took about three days… three painless days.
The plastic surgeons responsible to reconstruct her abdomen were shocked at how quickly the abdomen healed. They had to move her reconstructive surgery up by ***six months*** due to the speed of healing.
We never told the doctors, the nurses, or the plastic surgeons how we healed the wound, and the medical staff at the hospital considers the miraculous cessation of the flesh eating bacterial infection one of those amazing miracles with no explanation.
She recovered completely, aside from a devastated metabolism and slightly compromised immune system… from all of the drugs they felt they had to give her at the hospital.
After that time, I spent two years dedicated to researching oligodynamics. I eventually learned that we were very lucky that she hadn’t had any food in her stomach for weeks. The stomach had quit producing hydrochloric acid, which made the adsorption of the silver ions in the stomach that much more effective. Had she been producing HCL, the only way to have gotten such a marked benefit from the silver would have been via IV or by using a nebulizer.
I have never again blindly trusted a doctor, and I don’t even like going into a hospital under any circumstances. Until you hear someone scream so horribly that YOU wish you could put them out of their misery, you just don’t know the soulessness and lack of true humanity and understanding that can (not that it is that way always) take place in such an environment. I do. I don’t wish that experience upon anyone!
Since that time, I’ve learned volumes on silver production, products, usage, etc. I’ve assisted hundreds of individuals beat infections through various strategies involving common sense, natural and alternative medicine… and usually ***after*** the allopathic medical profession had given up.
Silver is not a cure-all, but it is a very powerful and–when made and used properly– effective aid in tissue reparation and as an anti-pathogenic substance. Be wise: Learn to use it and to understand it, for one never knows when one day life is joyous, and the next day, you might need something far more powerful than the ignorance and prejudice surrounding your–or a loved one’s– fight for survival.
Look at reviews for colloidal silver generators before purchasing one.
New to Colloidal Silver – An introduction to silver as used as a medicinal substance.
A Closer Look, by Dr. Peter Lindemann – The original article I found in 1998, first published in “Borders”, Second Quarter, 1997. It’s interesting to note, however, that since 1998, the production process has been improved dramatically.
Further Ideas and Thoughts
A Recent study shows that “colloidal silver” greatly increases the efficacy of antibiotics (perhaps because the silver is actually doing much of the work): Read this fascinating Dr. Mercola article on bacteria and phages: http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2013/07/03/antibiotics-colloidal-silver.aspx