Tag: Menieres disease

  • Cranio Sacral Therapist and Student Newsletter 39

    April 4 – 2009

    Questions and comments for this issue:

    + Special report from Mary Hegarty in Cape Town on autism.
    + Any results with tinnitus?
    + Treating children on Ritalin.
    + Working with the sphenoid.

    Hello,
    Apparently there are as many creatures on your
    body as there are people on Earth. Feel free to
    use that one at your next dinner party. Here is
    the video to back it up.
    I wanted to call it,
    ‘Your Micro-organisms and You.’ but the makers
    weren’t that keen.

    If you are interested in developing ‘Virtuoso Touch’
    have a read of Jesse Arana’s article on palpation.
    He is a big fan of John Upledger. If that doesn’t
    put you off too much he has some interesting
    perspectives and observations.

    In fact it was Jesse who let me know about Casa BESU
    in Portabelo, Panama. This is an initiative by 4 cranio
    sacral therapists to bring cranio sacral treatment and
    training to the local community in Portabelo. It is a
    great project and fits right in with my vision for
    Open Source Cranio.

    And while we’re on the subject of inspiring people,
    get your tissues ready and have a look at this video of
    Nick Vujicic
    who faces obstacles I can’t even imagine
    every day of his life. His message is great,
    ‘It’s not how you start, it’s how you finish.’

    Stanford University has launched a video series from
    7 of its faculty members in the fields of neuroscience,
    bioengineering, brain imaging and psychology.
    I haven’t had a chance to look at them all yet but
    the ones I have seen are interesting.

    My Masterclass DVD series is coming along nicely.
    I have put a 10 minute video compilation of extracts
    from it on this page.
    You can also sign up for a Review Edition or an advance
    copy there too.

    Before we get into the mailbag here is a special report
    from Mary Hegarty on work she was doing with a boy
    diagnosed with autism in Cape Town.

    ***SPECIAL REPORT FROM MARY HEGARTY IN CAPE TOWN***

    Alpha School Case Report: The Boy with the Pencil
    August 2007

    The week ends with a bang on Friday as we enter the
    Alpha School for Learners with Autism! Noise abounds,
    footsteps echo off high ceilings and stairwells; pots
    and pans clang and clatter in the kitchen; raised voices
    reverberate greetings and admonitions, songs and laughter,
    tears and tantrums.

    Among the 65 days students, who are predominantly boys
    between the ages of 5 and 18, most (85%) come from
    disadvantaged homes. What all have in common is autism.
    The spectrum is pretty wide. Some can language, read,
    and count; others do not speak. Some have a
    ‘high functioning’ label, while others need help
    with basics, even the toilet.

    Our CST outreach program focuses on children under 12.
    Teachers and their aides are a tremendous resource,
    generously sharing information about what happens in
    the classroom and on the playground when we are not there.

    This is R’s story, ‘a lethargic boy with a dislike of
    gross motor activity,’ as described in a 2005 psych
    report. Back then he was often anxious and tearful
    on the school bus, becoming sullen upon arriving at
    school. He might scream for up to 20 minutes at a
    stretch twice a day. He would hit himself during
    tantrums on the floor.

    At home, bedtime was problematic. R would often lay
    awake for three hours before falling asleep at 11pm.
    He could dress and undress and use the toilet. He
    was not fond of sharing. He was able to use scissors
    and a pencil. He would examine objects obsessively.
    I met R in November 2005, when he was 9 years old,
    and began working with him in the classroom. While
    his teacher read a story, I supported R’s right kidney.

    He would not allow contact with two hands. After the
    story R wanted to go home, though when I asked
    permission he said I could come back to see him.
    Soon after the 2006 school year began, R’s teacher
    said that his tantrums had stopped and he was
    showing a marked improvement.

    I met with his parents in February and explained CST
    to them. They were keen for R to continue in the
    program. By this time, R was allowing more contact
    for longer periods during CST sessions. I could hold
    his liver and kidney areas with no fuss, though he
    continued to be less enthusiastic about cranial
    contact when I tried to hold his frontal bone,
    sphenoid and parietals.

    Early in March 2006, R came to school very charged.
    That day he refused treatment, saying ‘GO AWAY!
    Not today!’ Not to be deterred, I sat beside him
    briefly, offering verbal support without physical
    contact. I promised to return in a week’s time.

    The next few days would bring a devastating loss to
    R and his family. On the evening of R’s 10th birthday
    his dad was struck by a taxi and killed instantly
    while riding his bike home from work.

    The following Friday, R did not want me or CST, but
    his teacher insisted. A classmate supportively held
    R’s hand and accompanied us to the OT room. There R
    leaned against me and stared blankly at the colourful
    posters hanging on the wall. Moving onto a big red
    physio ball, I gathered him into my lap, rocking
    gently. My hands made a sandwich of his mid-thoracic
    spine and his heart/solar plexus.

    After 20 minutes, we joined his classmates on the
    playground. He sank onto the picnic bench, leaned
    against me and cried. Another 20 minutes passed
    and R gazed skyward, lifted his arms and became very
    agitated. We walked back to the classroom, where he
    began to settle.

    We enjoyed a couple of good sessions before the
    winter holidays, but by the time Term 3 began,
    R’s tantrums had begun again. Concerned, his
    classroom teacher, the school psychologist and
    I paid a home visit to the humble cinderblock
    cottage bordering the airport, where we listened
    for two hours to his mom’s non-stop story. It was
    clear that the entire family was in crisis.
    I was just a volunteer practitioner working with
    one family member. That would have to be enough.
    Since that home visit, I created a routine when
    working with R. I announce my arrival at school
    to R and ask his permission to return in a while.

    For the next year and a half, on good days I would
    sit beside R and watch him draw (he’s becoming
    quite the artist!). If I’m lucky he allows contact
    somewhere on his back for a brief period, and in
    rare circumstances on the cranial vault. I ask
    about his family. On a not-so-good day, R tells me
    to go away! On those days I sit beside him without
    touching… but I DO NOT GO AWAY!!!

    When R’s class was invited to join in an art
    program at a nearby school, R refused to participate,
    even though he loves to draw. In his collapsed world,
    venturing into unknown waters is too threatening.

    On a rainy Friday in August 2007, I arrived on time
    to see R’s classmates filing into the media room to
    watch a video. R had stayed behind in the classroom
    to draw on his own. His teacher said R did not sleep
    the night before. I pulled up a chair and remarked
    that he must be exhausted. It was just the two of us,
    the room was quiet. R wore a track suit made with
    slippery fabric, and I decided to try massaging his
    back, neck, shoulders and arms. No protest. For the
    next 35 minutes, bent over his desk, R surrendered to
    cranio sacral therapy… cranium, spine, sacrum.
    At one point he relaxed the grip on his best friend,
    the pencil, melting into the moment. The silence
    was exquisite. When I left I whispered a promise to
    return next week. I’ll be there!

    The following is a poem I wrote this year inspired by R…

    *Kwansaba: Curious Boy with the Pencil
    Curious Boy grips the pencil too tight
    his silent friend during dark feral nights
    these days nights last all day long
    taxi smashed bicycle… dada’s dead and gone
    guns shoot outside, mummy’s on her knees
    pencil draws blue sky, happy birds &bees
    bad lines rubbed out before anybody sees

    Mary Hegarty
    24 January 2009

    *KwanSaba is a cross-cultural poetic form dedicated
    to Kwanzaa. Each poem addresses one of the seven
    principles of Kwanzaa: Umoja (unity); Kujichagulia
    (self-determination); Ujima (collective responsibility);
    Ujamaa (cooperative economics); Nia (purpose);
    Kuumba (creativity); and Imani (faith), and consists
    of seven lines of seven words each. Every word used
    contains no more than seven letters.

    MY COMMENTS:

    Great report Mary. As always I am so impressed
    with the work you and your fellow therapists are
    doing in South Africa. Well done.

    ***FORUM QUESTION***

    Has anyone had any long term success treating
    Tinnitus? I treated a long term sufferer and it
    was gone within 20 minutes but came back that
    afternoon, two further sessions have shown no relief.
    Karen
    Australia

    MY COMMENTS:

    Hello Karen,
    I have had good success treating tinnitus and its
    big brother menieres disease. Here is a case history
    of a woman I treated with menieres in Brisbane in 1997.

    Not all cases of tinnitus will respond to cranio
    sacral work but I have found that it is easy enough
    to identify these cases in the initial assessment.

    A common thing I have found in people with tinnitus
    is their membrane systems are very tight. They often
    feel to me like their membrane system is a half size
    too small for their body.

    This can be throughout the whole membrane system or
    just in specific parts of it.

    Why this causes the tinnitus has to do with the
    sensitivity of the ear drums to vibration. Let me
    explain. If you were standing in the corner of a
    room whispering and I was standing in the opposite
    corner trying to listen, the 3 little bones in my
    ear – ossicles – that connect to my eardrum would be
    moving a couple of microns.

    Remember a sheet of writing paper is 100 microns
    thick so a movement of a couple of microns is tiny.

    When a membrane system is very tight it can feel
    like an over-tightened guitar string that is
    reverberating.
    This minute vibration is what causes the occicles
    to vibrate minutely and this tiny movement is what
    causes the noise – tinnitus.

    I have found that as the membrane system begins
    to ease the tinnitus diminishes.

    Because you got a positive result the first time
    you treated the person it means the tinnitus is
    being caused by restrictions in the person’s
    system. I suggest you go through your case
    history notes to see what you worked on in that
    first session.

    Something you did will have caused the symptoms
    to diminish. It is possibly something small you
    didn’t register as being part of the primary
    lesion. It may not fit your idea of what is wrong.

    For example, you may have done an ear pull
    in the first session and felt a good release. In the
    subsequent 2 treatments you may have done ear pulls
    also.
    What you may have forgotten is that you did
    some work on the sacrum in that initial session
    but because there was an improvement in symptoms
    and you got such a significant release with the
    ear pull, you may have neglected the sacrum work.

    Of course I’m not saying that is what happened.
    I am offering it as a possibility.

    ***QUESTION***

    Hi John,
    I recently treated a teenager with ADHD who has been
    on Ritalin since about age 6. While I’ve treated kids
    with variations on the condition before, this is the
    first time I’ve come across a system influenced by
    Ritalin. It felt to me like a massive dose of caffeine,
    but it seemed to reverberate outside as well as inside
    the system, which is a new experience for me. It felt
    like treating two systems at once. Any comments or
    experiences with Ritalin to report?
    Keep up the great work.
    Joseph McGuire
    Ireland

    MY COMMENTS:

    Hello Joseph,
    I’ve had quite a bit of experience with kids on
    Ritalin and the many other drugs that are prescribed
    for ‘difficult’ kids. Here is a case history of
    one such child I treated in Brisbane in 2004.

    Ritalin has a particularly strong effect on the
    system because it is, well, a really strong drug.
    If it was administered intravenously it would have
    the same ‘hit’ as cocaine.

    That’s not just folksy hearsay, Ritalin actually
    has the same pharmacological profile as cocaine.

    So when you make contact with a system that has been
    distorted with Ritalin for a long time you can feel
    all sorts of strange resonances, counter currents,
    compensations, rhythm echos and the sort of feeling
    you were describing.

    The way to work with it is the same as working
    with any drug. You treat as much as you can see
    through the haze the drug causes in the person’s
    system.
    When the symptoms improve and under the guidance
    of the prescribing Doctor, the medication is reduced.

    With less medication, more of the restriciton
    pattern will reveal itself. You continue treatment-
    symptoms improve – medication is further reduced
    and so on.
    Eventually there is no medication and no symptoms.

    Happy days.

    If you want to read more about the effects of
    Ritalin there is a good little article reproduced
    from ‘The Observer’ on the South African Institute
    of Cranial Studies website here.

    ***QUESTION***

    Dear John!
    I hope you don’t mind me asking you a question,
    concerning cranio-sacral. I just had a young female
    patient here, for cranio, she had a spine-operation
    6 months ago. And as I tried the lateral strain, the
    whole structures became somewhat swirly and blurry…
    and I had no idea what to do – haven’t felt this before
    (ok, some swirls are ok, but this was totally blurry…
    it felt as if the whole head swam in my hands)… so I
    just tried to hold on, until it got a bit calmer.
    Have you ever experienced something like this?
    What is your opinion, what to do in a case like this?

    Lots of greetings,
    Iva
    Croatia

    MY COMMENTS:

    Hello Iva,
    I am happy to answer your questions and I’m glad to
    see cranio sacral is flourishing in Croatia.

    Based on what you have written about trying the
    lateral strain, I am going to assume you were working
    with the woman’s sphenoid when this ‘blurry-ness’
    happened.

    This could be for a number of reasons. Firstly
    you were working with the sphenoid. William Sutherland,
    the grand daddy of our work, was fascinated with
    the sphenoid and considered it to be the ‘master cog’
    in one of his his mechanical models of cranial bone
    motion.

    I can understand why he was so into it as I have
    found the sphenoid to have a very strong energetic
    signature and can have a significant effect on the
    whole cranium and the rest of the body.

    The first time I experienced this I was working
    someone in a standard kind of treatment situation.
    Quiet room, eyes closed. We were about half way
    through the session. I had been at the person’s
    head for about 10 minutes and focusing on the
    sphenoid for about 5.

    Suddenly it felt like the sphenoid just lit up.
    The superior surface reminded me of a console on a
    space ship or something like that, with colored
    flashing lights turning on and off in sequence.

    I had to open my eyes to check the person’s head
    wasn’t glowing. It wasn’t. They were lying with
    their eyes closed, deeply relaxed – they may have
    even been asleep.

    Inside their head everything was gang busters.
    It felt like there was a brass band going off
    in there.
    As I observed the ‘lights’ on the sphenoid I
    began to get the feeling that there was an order
    and a pattern to the way they were flashing
    and moving.
    Them it began to dawn on me that there was a
    progression to what was happening almost like some
    kind of program running.

    It went on like this for about 5 minutes and
    then as abruptly as it started, it just stopped.
    All the lights went out and the sphenoid settled
    back into a very smooth and solid rhythm.

    When the person returned the following week they
    reported a significant improvement in their
    symptoms.

    I have had similar kinds of experiences with
    lots of different peoples sphenoids since.

    Being a science fiction fan it’s no surprise
    that my brain translated what I was feeling in that
    person’s sphenoid in terms of space ship consoles
    and flashing lights.
    In your case, it sounds like, your brain
    translated what you were feeling as ‘blurry-ness’
    and that swimming feeling in your hands.

    The significant thing is that something important
    was happening in the woman’s system. Over time
    you may find that you experience the same kind of
    thing with more people.

    In my experience bodies are capable of the most
    amazing and from our perspective, shocking, things.
    I have been treating people for 15 years and I am
    still coming across new responses.

    The responses may be new but the feeling of being
    taken by surprise is the same. Over time I have
    learned to become familiar with that feeling of
    being shocked and surprised by a new response.
    From what you have written it sounds like you
    are on the way to doing that too.

    You said you held on until it ‘got a bit calmer’
    I suggest you held on until YOU got a bit calmer.
    Because that is what I have found works best in
    dealing with new responses, not getting pulled
    into them.
    If you can get a bit of distance from what is
    happening you can see that the persons body is
    taking advantage of your support and is getting
    on with it. It just happens to be in a way that
    you haven’t seen before.

    Lastly I would wonder how the spinal surgery fits
    into all this? Was it involved in the sphenoid
    resettling you described? Was trauma from the
    surgery working itself out and you were feeling this
    from the sphenoid or was the sphenoid involved more
    directly?
    I have come accross a few cases of trauma arising
    from the positions people were put in or rough
    handling during surgery that had nothing to do
    with the actual surgery itself.

    So that’s it for this issue.

    Till the next time.

    Your Mate,

    John D.