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Because of the breast milk and colon…

My lack of postings over the past couple of weeks can only be blamed on breast milk and colons.

True story.

Okay, kind of true.

Actually, not entirely true and if it wasn’t for breast milk and colons I’d probably be a little happier in the relief department than I stand at currently.

See, here’s the thing: I have been busting ass over the past year to complete yet another academic, yet very emotional-spiritual, feat…to become a Chartered Herbalist.

Yesterday? I wrote my final exam.

Sat my Go, Go SpazzyAss on the couch for two weeks solid trying to not only osmosify (totally a word) a plethora of physiological knowledge, but its application in the bigger picture of using Nature’s desire to resist and eliminate disease tissue states.

Yesterday, I got to answer a question about a colon. And breast milk.

(O.O) <————bug-eyed look of #WTF?

And a whole lotta Latin names I was disappointed in myself for not knowing off the top of my head like how I knew how the circulatory system works or how to treat Rheumatoid Arthritis (I swear…it’s like the exam knew me….) or the symptoms of kidney inflammation (Dude, seriously…do I know you?).

Nonetheless…I am DONE.

I have overcome a ballistically INSANE year of events and of goings on…and I studied all throughout.

I fookin’ DID IT.


Once my final grade is received, I will get to put letters after my name. All cool-like ‘n shit. Awesomeness, personified. 😀

It also means that I’ve given myself a whole new arena of hope…a chance to explore and discover complimentary and alternate therapies to try to heal my ailing, pain-riddled body and keep the anti-epileptics and the anti-malarials away.

Because? Dude, those aren’t “side effects”…you aren’t supposed to be taking them for a condition you don’t have! For some, they’re life-changing.

For me, they augment my kidney damage and pose a greater risk for heart attack.

December 22, 2012: Myocardial infarction.

Merry Yule to you, too, asshat.

It means I’ve not only given myself a whole new arena of hope…but that I took on the challenge of taking ownership of my health to a WHOLE new level.

Bat-shit crazy, right here.

And you know what?

I believe.

I believe in the power of “life.”


It means that I’m not afraid of going out to find it my damn self, no matter the sacrifice of time, brain cells or friggin’ Latin names the likes of which would probably scare small children if told altogether in a story.

I want to live, goddamn it, and I will sure as shit do everything within my capacity that at my end of days, people…nay…my children…will know that I “did” do the best that I could with what I’d been given.

True story.

Science meets herbalism meets Lupus Chick.
Science meets herbalism meets Chronic Badass.








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