# 359 Friday, August 17, 2007 - INCURABLY ILL?FOR JUST ONE DAY On a day not long ago, I had a headache. Please remember this monumental piece of information; it is important to the story. Now. There used to be a show called ?Queen for a Day?, in which people would compete to see who had the most miserable life. Three women would tell their stories, the terrible things that were happening to them, and at the end the host would wave a magic wand, triumphant music would swell, and the winner would get a washing machine, and a little crown, and maybe a free backrub. It wasn?t a lot, but it was real, and it was relief: it was a day of happiness. But what if we could provide the opposite situation? What if we could give the world?s ?deciders? one day of misery?one day when they could became incurably ill? It would be done by magic, of course. Imagine if, right before they took office, all the Congressional folks, Presidents, corporation heads, etc., would have to spend 24 hours in a terrible condition?for example, let?s pick one I know a little something about-- paralysis. For twenty-four hours, they would be paralyzed. There would no TV, no escape, so they would fully confront the reality. Because it is magic, they would believe it was forever. There are no visitors, except a grouchy nurse of one?s own gender coming in to catheterize them, six times a day, and one special visit to lift them off the bed and plop them on the toilet chair for the bowel movement-- with the assistance of a plastic glove. They would experience the condition to the full. If they wanted to turn over in the bed, they must wait till someone came and helped them. If they wanted to breathe, a machine must be turned on. If they wanted to wear clothes, someone must dress them. And if they wanted to get out of bed, they would be at the mercy of someone exhausted and overworked and with too many other chores to do. They would hear the washing machine going all the time, to get an idea of the extra work their condition meant to others. In the night they lie awake, immobile, waiting for the dawn. They catch a few smatterings of slumber, and a beautiful dream of walking? And blink awake, to grim reality. They would not know their situation was temporary. They are allowed no hope. It is explained to them that cure is theoretically possible, with embryonic stem cells and Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer, but that certain politicians do not approve of such things, and so they must remain paralyzed. For 24 hours the nightmare continues. And on the 25th hour? But first, I must tell you about my important headache. It was right before Chi practice at the lake, and I was sitting at the concrete picnic bench beside the patch of bare ground among the trees, and one of my Chinese friends came up. Her name is Chia Yu, and she is about my age, and her English is roughly as good as my Mandarin. She knows I am trying to learn Chinese, so she talks at me sometimes, and I almost never understand. But that is not an unusual situation for me, and I nod my head and smile, and occasionally repeat the sounds, and it is a happy time. But today, a couple words occurred to me, and I said to her, ?Woh to-tung?, which meant, I hoped, ?I have a headache?. And it was true. I did have an actual legitimate headache. She looked at me, reached for her purse, and whipped out a little bottle of green pills which I hope were the Chinese equivalent of Advil. It worked! I had actually communicated, I thought. But then Chia Yu took her right hand and gripped her own left wrist. She said something, repeated it twice, slowly, distinctly. I had no clue. Another friend came along (whose name I have forgotten, sorry), who speaks both languages, and I asked her to translate. ?She says, your blood pressure is wrong,? my second friend said?and then added something on her own, ?take off your shoe.? So?I took off my shoe. Second friend took my stocking?ed foot, made a pincer out of her thumb and forefinger? and sharply squeezed my big toe, in a scraping short motion. The headache went away instantly, like turning off a light. I was still dizzy and light-headed, but the pain was gone. It just wasn?t there anymore. Acupressure, somebody told me. In a tiny way, I had just experienced the miracle of cure. Such joy should be available to all. On the 25th hour, of course, we would make the leaders well of their incurable condition; no one deserves to suffer endlessly-- not even those whose ignorance or stubbornness condemns others to a lifetime of misery. Don Reed
www.stemcellbattles.com
