My personal oil protocol

I have been contacted about a dozen times this week, by new contacts.  Most looking for advice on what EO I personally use. So, I’d like to share my current protocol.   It is really fairly simple.  Four drops of the following in a vegi cap.

Ginger.  Easily my favorite oil!  Great for gut health and a healthy inflammatory response.

Bergamot.   A pleasant citrus oil that I use for mood.

Copaiba.  Works on the CB2 receptors to help support the immune system and a healthy inflammatory response.

I also diffuse juniper berry at bedtime for nightmares.

Essential oils have become topic of many debates on internal use.  Let me say that we use DoTERRA and I trust the science behind the company.  I do not know about the safety concerns of any other company or their products and can not offer advise on taking any other brand internally.


Some quotes will stick with me forever

I meet a man today, I won’t say his name for the sake of his privacy.  I guessed he was a veteran because of the person that referred him to us.  After talking for a brief while I found out he was a Vietnam Veteran and was struggling with some back pain.  He said that they got hit [in an explosion] while he was carrying an injured friend to safety, he was hurt but his friend was in a pretty bad situation.  He said that the VA does a great deal to help him with his mental health and side effects from agent orange, but he recently went to the VA for back pain and they are not able to help him.  I gave him and inquisitive look and he said something that struck me like a ton of bricks, it made me really understand that for every problem a veteran deals with there may be dozens more that go unreported and untreated.   The VA told him that they didn’t have any record of a back issue being reported, to which his response was, “my friends were bleeding out and dying all around me, I didn’t think it was a good use of resources for me to complain about my back hurting.”

As time goes by

The world is constantly changing.  In fact, change is the only thing that I have come to count on.  But, when you leave to a theatre of combat you miss all the change.  It is almost as if your world stands still.  While your children grow and develop, while your family builds a routine that no longer includes you.  While the newest iPhone goes to market.  While movies are released and music is created and businesses open.  You miss it all.  I left the day after my son’s 2nd birthday, 2 months after the birth of my daughter, 6 months after purchasing our first home.  I came home to a 3 year old son, and a 1 year old daughter that didn’t know me, and a wife that had developed a routine that didn’t involve me.  It was a very hard time for me.  I didn’t sleep well, actually I didn’t sleep at all.  Maybe once every 3 or 4 days, for a few hours at best.  I still don’t sleep well and have used multiple prescriptions to try to help, with little success.  DoTERRA Vetiver has a permanent home on my night stand to help with sleep.  It only took my children about a week to become afraid of me.  I was hard to live with.  Angry, crabby and filled with hate.  Often starring into nothing, physically present but mentally gone.  The VA called it an adjustment disorder at first.  Now, almost 3 years later they call it PTSD.

I injured my lower back and knee overseas.  Along with that came acute and chronic nerve issues and now a problem with my hip.  Along with all of that fun I was also diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, which the VA believes developed from an acute infection acquired in Afghanistan.  Thanks a lot Bin Laden.

Looking back on it now.  I can tell you that I was clearly depressed.  My outlook on life was very negative.  I remember having days where I could barely get out of bed and Melissa had to help me get dressed.  At times tears would pour down my face as I as sitting because I was in so much pain.  It is a horrible feeling to believe that you will never be able to play catch with your son, or be able to help your daughter learn how to do a handstand.  I was defeated.  I had given up.  The person I saw in the mirror was not me, rather a hollow shell of my former self.