Remedies Found to Fight Muscular Dystrophy
By Linda Caputi
It was January 1996. The need to know had finally out-weighed my fear of knowing. As I sat in the neurologist’s office waiting to be seen, I reviewed how I had arrived at this point. I was 48 years old, with symptoms that had begun when I was 30. Needless to say, I had certainly taken my time in making an appointment. So even though my father, brother, and uncle were doctors and I was a registered nurse, doctors were always an avenue of last resort for me. My philosophy regarding them was “use only in an emergency.” But there was no denying it anymore; something was wrong. Perhaps part of it had been denial, but the gradual progressive onset of symptoms had made it easy to dismiss them.
*When my hand couldn’t release an object it had grasped (myotonia – temporary rigidity after muscular contraction), I explained it as nerve damage from working hard on our old house.
*When I could no longer lap swim for an hour or more, it was from keeping up with two children and the stronger chlorine in the pool.
*When the grocery bags seemed to be getting heavier, it was because I needed to do some weight training.
*When my eye couldn’t open (ptosis – drooping of an eyelid or part) sometime after sleep or meditation, it was because I was so deeply relaxed.
*When it was easy to bend down but nearly impossible to get up, it was from age.
But when it reached the point where I couldn’t walk very far without getting out of breath and my legs locked trying to get out of a chair, I realized I had to have some kind of neurological disorder. I knew little of neurology – just enough to know that any label – and a prognosis that went along with that label given “it” by a physician – was not something I looked forward to.
But here I was in the neurologist’s office, waiting for the verdict. Without any great fanfare, “it” came as myotonic muscular dystrophy (MD), which was later officially updated to myotonic dystrophy.
The neurologist explained it wasn’t just a children’s illness – as in “Jerry’s Kids” – but a slow, continuous deterioration of functions that could go on for decades. How slowly or swiftly it happened was an individual process – with no remissions, as in multiple sclerosis, to hope for. Other than medication to alleviate some of the myotonic symptoms (which I declined), there was nothing that could be done.
The doctor said to schedule my next appointment in six months, and I went home to try to come to terms with the diagnosis.
It was difficult. A part of me couldn’t fathom that I’d never bike ride, swim, or take long walks in the park again.
Intellectually, however, I dealt with it by approaching things from the practical standpoint. The stairs to my bedroom were getting difficult to maneuver, so a move downstairs was a consideration. The illness had to be explained to my children (18 and 24 years old), so I calmly sat with them and answered any questions they had, but in an optimistic manner. I asked them to pitch in more if I was doing less. They agreed.
I even discussed the possibility of divorce with my husband, concerned that my condition would eventually ruin us both financially. But he seemed to be in denial, and any attempt at practical conversation regarding the illness went nowhere. Emotionally, his attitude was strangely comforting because it allowed me to either slip into denial myself or remember, “I am more than my body!”
Six months passed without much of a difference at home, although I switched to plastic plates and cups, which were so much lighter and easier to hold than china and glass. I did notice on a few frightening occasions, however, that I was choking when I tried to swallow.
When it was time for my next appointment with the neurologist and I slowly sat down across from him, he asked, “Have the symptoms become any worse?” Pause. It was like one of those intensified moments in life where time almost stands still. It finally sank in. I realized he expected me to be getting worse. Nausea washed over me.
“No,” I lied. “I’m about the same.” He repeated some neuromuscular testing and asked me to schedule another appointment in six months. I knew, however, that unless it was “an emergency,” I wouldn’t be returning.
Still in shock, I went home until once more I lost myself in the daily routine and busyness of family life.
There was also a mental fog and a lethargy that had come with the illness – more so as it progressed. It took concentrated effort to complete tasks or explain a thought. As time passed, I had begun not even to try.
The Association for Research and Enlightenment (A.R.E.) is just three short blocks from my home. I’ve been a member off and on since 1985 and had joined a Search for God study group when I lived in Brooklyn, New York. Even after moving to Virginia Beach in 1986, three of us “charter members” continued meeting by conference calling once a week, although in time we moved on to other studies.
In other words, I was very familiar with the readings and remedies Edgar Cayce had given for various physical conditions. But it hadn’t occurred to me to research muscular dystrophy. Resignation, acceptance, or the increasing mental fog had definitely set in somewhere along the line – very atypical of me, an outspoken, opinionated, take-charge type of New Yorker with Jewish blood flowing in my veins.
Thank God for Karen Davis, a dear and wise friend who gently but insistently told me there were Cayce readings on MD that I could try. She said part of it involved a wet-cell battery that Cayce gave directions for constructing. Surprisingly, I now found myself struggling with the possibility of having hope again, just as I had struggled with the neurologist’s lack of it. But hope springs eternal, even through the fog, fear of failure, and exhaustion.
Karen then suggested I speak to Jeanette Thomas at the Edgar Cayce Foundation, who was extremely knowledgeable about practically anything pertaining to the readings. Thank God for Jeanette. When I explained my situation, she invited me to her office or offered to come to my home. Two hours later, sitting with me at her desk Jeanette laid out a graph she had created and an assortment of readings Cayce had given to different individuals diagnosed with MD or with symptoms similar to it. They varied in content, but most involved the use of the wet cell battery.
Jeanette had one in her office and showed me in a general way how it was used. Maybe sensing my confusion as well as my reticence at the idea of working with something electrical, she explained that the wet-cell generated less current than a flashlight battery. In fact, most people using the device are unable to feel any electrical sensation whatsoever. Again, she kindly offered to come to my home in order to set one up if I needed help.
Theoretically, anyone can make his or her own wet-cell battery from the instructions given by Cayce, but most people purchase one already made. I looked into three different models, including the one constructed by Bruce Baar that Jeanette demonstrated in her office and is for sale in the A.R.E. Bookstore. I purchased the model made by Bruce Baar (Baar Products can ship the wet-cell and necessary ingredients: 800-269-2502 or 610-873-4591) because it was easy to use.
With Jeanette’s encouragement I went to the A.R.E. Library and checked out the Circulating Files (research reports compiled from selected readings on a topic) on muscular dystrophy and read them. I then went to the readings index files to copy down all the numbers for each individual’s reading. As my research continued, I became very involved and more and more hopeful.
Discovering a reading given to a woman in her 50s, with symptoms similar to mine, I decided to follow the instructions given to her by Cayce for the wet-cell usage. The reading suggested placing the wet-cell’s copper disc on two different spinal vertebrae on alternating days and using two different solutions for 30 minutes each, one only to be used each day. During the time spent with the discs attached to the body, the individual was to remain in a peaceful, meditative state, keeping a receptive mental attitude.
Then with the help of my chiropractor, who marked the specific vertebrae’s locations on my back; and my husband, who sawed wooden sticks precisely measured from floor to vertebrae points, so that I would always be able to find the correct points myself; I was ready to begin using the wet-cell.
However, the readings stated that before implementing the physical remedies, the proper spiritual and mental attitude needed to be cultivated. Specific passages from the Bible were given and were to be read, contemplated, and sometimes even memorized. I interpreted those passages to mean choose whose will you will follow – yours or God’s. I have learned it’s not a sacrifice to choose God’s will (when I can “hear” it), as I used to believe. It’s what makes me happy.
People caring for the individual are also told they need to hold the right attitude of love and expectancy. Consistency and persistency are key words used over and over since it could possibly take years to see improvement. But I was thankful to hear from people who stuck with the readings’ suggestions that they could see results in six months.
As I read and did my spiritual homework, I also inquired at the Cayce/Reilly School of Massotherapy to see if there might be one or two students who would come to my home for the 30 minute spinal massage I would need on a regular basis. This is a necessary part of the approximately two-hour daily routine when using the wet-cell battery on the spine. The energy needs to be distributed by massage along the spine and down and out to the extremities in a circular manner. Three students or former students were available and dependable. All of them were special angels in my life.
Cayce’s readings also covered dietary recommendations, which for me were relatively easy to incorporate into my life. But be forewarned; alcohol consumption (or the formation of it in the body by the overgrowth of Candida yeast and the presence of sugar) and the wet cell are not compatible. Regular eliminations, spinal adjustments, affirmations, and karma were also frequently mentioned.
The karma aspect was the least helpful to me. I could hardly remember what I had for breakfast, much less recall events from 10 lifetimes before. But I think karma is less punishment from God than self-imposed suffering. We judge, condemn, and crucify ourselves for the “sins” we committed that we believe are unpardonable. Yet God, I feel, would only say to each and every one of us, “this is my beloved son/daughter in whom I am well pleased.” Why else would God through Cayce allow these remedies to be given for the “incurable” ills we struggle with, if not to help us get down from the cross?
With everything attended to, I finally began my daily routine with the wet-cell and the other recommendations. This would have been impossible without a journal or notebook just to keep track of the chemical solutions in the jars, times used, and the need for battery changing. I also found it extremely helpful to record dreams, events, thoughts, and symptoms I was experiencing. It’ so easy to forget, especially when functioning in a fog, and become discouraged if unable to see improvements which can take place sough gradually in any case.
I remember when I wrote down my first dream in the journal a week after starting the Baar Battery. This small event was an important milestone since I hadn’t been able to recall a dream for the past year, even though dreams had been an important part of my life, thanks to Mark Thurston’s conference on dream interpretation 10 years previously.
As for some other symptoms, within one month the mental fog began to clear. Within two months the choking episodes subsided and I was able to walk a bit farther without tiring. In fact, Jeanette reminded me recently that the first thing I said to her after being on the Baar wet cell for a short time was, “I can breathe again!”
In general I found that the last symptoms I had developed were the first ones to leave.
It’s been a year and a half now since I began with the Cayce remedies. I’d love to say it’s been smooth sailing but, it hasn’t. I didn’t have the “sleeping prophet” to give me an individualized reading, just trial and error and occasional guidance, from within and without, that I wish had been dearer and more consistent. But in spite of everything, I’d estimate I’m about 70 percent improved. I don’t tell people I have MD; I say that I was diagnosed with it. Say what you will, there’s a distinction.
Maybe I should have waited to write this until I could say I was 100 percent cured, but being from New York and always in a rush, I couldn’t wait any longer to share my experience in case it could help someone in the meantime. Thank God for Edgar Cayce.
About The Author:
Linda Caputi, a retired registered nurse, is on staff at the A.R.E. Library, and has been involved with the Cayce material for the last 30 years. She has researched, compiled, and updated many of the circulating files on both medical and non-medical topics, and is the author of the book, Epilepsy – Jody’s Journey: An Inspiring True Story of Healing with the Edgar Cayce Remedies. She is available for private consultations on Cayce and alternative remedies. Contact information; firstname.lastname@example.org