Green Drink Redux

One of the staple drinks of my adult life is Green Drink. It is a pineapple based blender drink with parsley, spirulina and a touch of hunny. It has been going through revisions lately, as I can’t make the arduous walk to and from Safeway for their lovely organic parsley, so I improvise, which always brings a tint of excitement and sometimes bitter disappointment. I do mean bitter in the flavor way, like when i put Nasturtiums in the drink, though it can be emotionally challenging as well ; )

Today’s parsley is not parsley, but cilantro, from the garden – with a touch of ginger, then the usual pineapple and hunny; a dash of salt – because what is life without salt? – and vegan gelatin for fingernails, flax seed meal for large fluffy poops, and hulled hemp seeds for a bit of oiliness and protein. Zip it around a few times in the blender and there you have it…

… a meal in a glass. After a few hours in the fridge, it bulks up into a thick malt-style drink that easily replaces any dairy you may still believe yourself attached to.

I found spirulina tablets so now I don’t even make the drink at all. For future reference it will be called Beige Drink. With enough Hunny, anything tastes good.


Relief is A Gene Test Away!

L-Methylfolate is my Savior! Because a Genius, known as my doctor, Kamara Dodd, tested me for the MTHFR mutation and vitamin B12 deficiency and Ding Ding, I was a Winner! Now, a B12 shot is on the menu once a week. My feet, formerly imbedded in primeval tar, are freed to fly. The weight loss improves flight as well. Yes a few more pounds have drifted away as well. In two years my weight has gone from 199 to 167 pounds. At 5’7″ I will settle at 155. At my age, a bit of padding is a good thing. Looking forward to that “inner thigh clearance.” I miss that most of all because of the chafing while wearing a dress.

Between MTHFR and B12 and actually reducing my Armour Thyroid dose from 180MG to 120MG, normalcy abounds! Finally, after years of Abusive Doctors, there exists, in the system, a real DOCTOR. She is a Woman. Just saying. (Mea Culpa-Female Preference). After all, that Old Crone Doc last year, whoa, what a mean old lady she was!

“No you can’t have Armour thyroid! What justifies that? What do you know? I am the doctor! Stop talking about yourself! Stop it!” I did not stop and she put up her hand to my face, as in…“Talk to the hand!” Unbelievable! So I stood up to her and fired her right on the spot, then the funniest thing happened! She fired me back. Well, was I to stand for another dose of rude old beeatch from her? Absolutely not. I fired her again.

That was a rush, after so many years, count them… age 45 when the thyroid surgery happened until age 68 when an Empathic and Scientific woman figured me out in 6 months, all the while putting up with my rage and fear.

So here’s to “feelin’ groovy”!

Awesome Thyroid Site!


Apologies for my delinquent bloggings. I am juggling too many oranges and apples as is normal for my lot. That is – Mutable Mutable Mutable energies everywhere in my freaking chart!

Check this out ASAP is you are a Thyroid Cripple, like me!


I am feeling okay. That is a huge disclosure. It’s like saying that the sharp stick in my eye has pulled out a bit and now my eye is simply slowly leaking eye-juice instead of gushing life force.

Mo betta!

Right now I am getting the word out for my ebook publication, “GOD GETS LAID”, so I must budget my time between my many interests and ills. Whilst I get my poop in a group, I want you to know about the web site that has helped me more than anything.


This woman has researched like a mole digging to China. She has grouped the poop on Thyroid issues. Go see her if you have any reservations about your thyroid meds and your symptoms. I will check in asap.

… is up and running. The Blog section will be following along soon. Stay tuned for health news for all Living Beings. I love you Gyns. (Guys comes from a feminine root word, “gyn” meaning female organs and such! Just ignore the “u”!)

T3 Adventure

The doc put me on 60 MG of Armour Tyroid. It is not enough. I don’t feel up to speed. The blood test says it’s enough. Sooo. Today I am starting a new protocol. I cut my T3 pill into four pieces. That makes each piece equal to about 6 mcg. I plan to supplement the Armour with a dab of T3.


My Doc Called Me!

It was so weird. The phone rang.

“Hello.” No answer. “Hello,” I repeated loudly. Then,

“This is Kamara.” Who was this little girl calling me? I can’t figure it out. Then,

“Oh, my doctor, Kamara Dodd.” Is this too good to be true? I must be dreaming. She called me for the second time since I saw her ten days ago to tell me that my RT3 is high. My new doctor with the small girl voice is the perfect combination of scientist and shaman. I count myself lucky, because even though it has taken eighteen months to find her, I could not find anyone like her in Tucson for twenty years.

See how different it looks when your perspective widens?

The Good News


OMG, I am so happy to have this beautiful being in my life.

I feel like the cat who swallowed the canary or the chimp who finally stole a popsicle from a toddler. The good news is that I have a new doctor who understands integrative medicine. She wears blue jeans, is 40-something and lived in Hawaii! Who could ask for anything more? She ordered all the right thyroid tests and is setting me up with the very best back surgeon near Portland, (“The only one I would recommend to anyone.”)

She’s got grit and no ego. She’s gonna put me back on track. She’s okay with pharmaceuticals, but when I told her that my goal is to remove them all from the “diet,” she was a-Okay, ready and willing to help me in the manner of my choosing.

Pain-wise, the spine is bringing me down, head and shoulders; back and legs, but it looks like in due time, my youthful pain-free existence is possible, at least for the next few years, the most important years, yet to come!


Sequential Fasting

What is fasting? Does it mean starvation? Some days I eat rice and beans; and other days I only eat oranges. The ice cream fasting one of my favorites, as I am sure you can attest.

You can overlap the fast days. When you give up two items at once that is double fasting. Do not starve!!! That is counterinterintuive to the max. It’s really bad for you. Eating a diet rich in gently used food will ease the pain of your poverty.

This is simpler than you think. Last week I ran out of butter. I haven’t eaten butter in seven days. Avocados are .88 so I eat them instead. Stock up on your basics, rice and beans, canned goods and roots. When you run out of the “extras” – do without for a week or a month, until it goes on sale, which is the sure way to know that it’s in season.

Carnivores fast frequently. If you are one, you should take a few days off from meat and eat low on the food chain. Do not let the protein freaks, freak you out. We get plenty of protein in Modernia.

The Macrobiotic State of Mind

State of Mind is the best way to go with the seasonal flow. I venture to say that the popularity of chefs cooking delicious, nutritious meals in season is aligned with the Macrobiotic. My best advice is to be your own lab rat. Test various foods by eating an “elimination” protocol. Over time you will find your personal diet, as I explained in The Tao of Chow, years ago, when I an 100 other people knew about gluten intolerance. We were besmirchified by supercilious waiters, and disrespectful boyfriends. But no more!

Go ahead and be what you know you are through your personal diet. No one else can tell you how you feel. That is your secret to keep. Remember, when you run out of candy, stop eating candy for a few days. The same goes for dairy products. Dairy products, don’t get me started or I will post the PETA film where the worker beats a cow with an iron bar, at the dairy farm.

Fighting For My Life


I am cornered. The dogs have my location. Teeth bared, if only they had been socialized as puppies. They wouldn’t do this to a living being if they had been handled with love and care when young, but hunting dogs are left outside in a pen to fend for themselves until the training starts. They learn to chase a smell. The smell of another creature and the fear it gives off from its glands. I am excreting fear today as I feel myself dying on the floor while the cure is dangling above, barely out of reach. Like the murderous wife who taunts her cardiac challenged husband withholding those precious life-giving white pills, the medical profession is killing me and it feels intentional.

Two months ago I got rid of pharmaceutical meds that were making my life a nightmare. I was lost in a haze of pain meds and ineffective thyroid medication. I decided to fight for myself and I bravely removed the supposed offenders, replacing only one, the T4 thyroid, with Natural Dessicated Thyroid from New Zealand, which contains all four thyroid hormones plus calcitonin.

I am sitting here in tears. Why? Why is a person who is taking 40MG per day of Duloxetine/Cymbalta, which is a powerful addictive mood drug, Crying? I should not be shedding a tear. I should be just FINE. But I am not. So why?¬†Every swallow I feel the lumps growing. Only a month ago I couldn’t feel them at all. They were disappearing but I couldn’t prove it. It was just my experience. My worthless experience. My feminine experience. My own throat. My own swallows. My tears. Waaaah! Call the Waaambulance!!!

Enough sorrow! Onward, through the FROG!!!

Because I have thyroid issues that are not being address. Those assholes are hurting me and I want it to stop. If they are hurting me, then they are hurting many others. I call for a class action suit!! The American Poor Against the Overpriced and Ineffective Healthcareless Association. The wealthy don’t care because they can afford it. The middle class cares but they have learned from the American Healthcareless Association that it’s the Poor’s fault. So they help to elect the Poor Blamers Association of Greedy Politicians who like slaves of old must step n fetch it or die.

It’s the docs who are clueless. Their beliefs tell them life comes from books, chars and numbers with carrots <>. The are not allowed to listen to patients because patients are helpless victims. Does this come from being on the poor list? Do the wealthy suffer from my issues? I doubt it.

Why do the clueless docs hurt us? “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” Right? They wear blinders so wide they can only see 10 miles ahead where the Pharmaceutical companies are waving them in, “C’mon back, at’s right, little to the left, to the right, march pretty.” Or something like that.

The Drug companies are fully aware of their sins. They are culpable. They are evil. Drug companies hurt us for money. Really? But haven’t we already come to understand how money is worthless paper? I thought we knew this. Yah, Youtube, baby.

I was diagnosed crazy from a few temper tantrums that I have over the years, usually induced from Catch 22 situations that I could not stand for; and from a waning thyroid situation, for which I was not aware until I was 45 years old. Everyone knows that thyroid can cause mental illness in the form of depression. I am not some quack or crank who wanted “hey the drugs are good in here man.” I am not that guy.

That’s enough for today.