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al d squitieri,sr

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Cured in Spite of Modern Medicine
By al d squitieri,sr
Last edited: Saturday, October 08, 2011
Posted: Thursday, June 09, 2005



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Recent articles by
al d squitieri,sr

• When 'Pay TV' was commercial-free
• Church Members Should Keep Leadership in Proper Perspective
• Pod: From Shunned Leper to Black Sheep
• Who Took Christ Out Of Xmas?
• For Everything There Is A Season
           >> View all 6
This story (and articles) about Polymyositis being cured by Homeopathy, has appeared in Natural Health Magazine, Homeopathy Today, Dana's Literary Journal (online) Enableonline.com and American Homeopathy Magazine.
All under different titles and formats. No part of this story or article(s) shall be reproduced without the written consent of the author.


"Cured in Spite of Modern Medicine"

By Al D. Squitieri, Sr.

       I was severely disabled by a disease that disintegrates muscle. I had almost given up, due to a half dozen doctors claiming documented proof that Polymyositis, an autoimmune disease, was incurable. Miraculously, through the leading of The Great Physician, I found Canadian Homeopathy. It proved U.S. doctors’ prognoses wrong.

      After thirty-five years of plumbing and heating work, I believed I was feeling the effects. I'd been lifting water heaters, bathtubs, and furnaces since age twenty, back in New York City's tenements. Suddenly, I was having trouble bending my knees, squatting under sinks, and crawl spaces became impossible. I realized something was wrong while taking a short cut off the back porch of a mobile home we were servicing. I was unable to lift myself out of two feet of snow. I was confused as to why I was losing strength in my thigh muscles at 54, a relatively young age in my trade.

      Upon discussing the mounting difficulties with my legs, my family started nagging at me to see a doctor - of all things! Given my industrial strength stubbornness, they worked hard at convincing me to get a check-up. Finally, one of my daughters, an R.N., demanded I go to the nearby emergency room.

      The E.R. doctor returned with the diagnosis attained from my blood test. Ceatinine Phospho Kinase is a muscle enzyme, and its increased level in blood would indicate disintegration of muscle- the higher the reading, the greater the destruction. The upper limit of normal is 226. My CPK level was 17,000. He said I had an immune problem.

      The name given to the autoimmune disease is Polymyositis- the Greek “Poly” meaning many, “myositis” inflammation of muscle. He warned me to see my doctor right away, because it was a progressive disease. If untreated, it could put me in a wheelchair permanently. It was believed to be irreversible, or “incurable”.

      The next day, we made an appointment at our primary care clinic. Thus began my five year battle with Polymyositis, and a life of increasing disability. I was once a strong, healthy, man who never took an aspirin, or went to a doctor. I was a disabled person now, seeing life from the other side of the coin. Unless you are or have been physically disabled, you don't know how this society of people suffers beyond the actual condition. Whether in a wheelchair, using a cane or crutch, we are people. Blind, deaf, or unable to walk, we still have feelings. We hurt, cry and laugh. We are familiar with anger and frustration; and depression can be a daily thing. The new terminology is a cop-out. By calling us "physically challenged", one avoids reality. Challenge is a daily part of our lives. We are disabled- unable to do what able-bodied people take for granted.

      Before my illness worsened, I managed to travel with the help of my family. I took my trusty built-up toilet seat everywhere. Due to lack of facilities for the disabled, it was an on-going battle almost everywhere we went. If you dared ask a clerk at a "convenience" store about their misnomer, you were looked at as having two heads. If we found an accessible restroom, it was never clean enough for use, being "only for those handicapped people”– as if being disabled made you less than human.

      Trips out of the house became rare. I could no longer get in and out of cars. Higher vans were accessible, since I could get a hand-up climbing onto the seat, whereas "sitting down" took someone else's total assistance. The same problem affected dining out. The chairs in my case were embarrassingly low. Because my thigh muscles were useless, someone had to pull me up onto my feet. Armless chairs were even more of a burden. I insisted it would be less of a burden if I stayed home, where large chair cushions were standard equipment, as was my toilet seat. Sitting on a sofa was no longer feasible, since it caused back and muscle strain on whomever was called upon to help move me.

      Are we asking too much, wanting ramps, proper door handles, or useable doors to get into these places of business? Would it be impossible to provide larger tables, aisles and toilet areas to accommodate wheelchairs? How about handrails installed near clean, built-up toilets, and lower self-serve shelves? No, it's a doable request, compared to the frustration and hardship of being disabled. The Americans with Disabilities Act offers help and tax credits to those willing to remove obstacles to people who are disabled.

      I had managed to keep my sense of humor through the physical and mental pain, while leaning on my prayers and those of family and friends. It was that strength of mind and spirit that sustained me until God sent answer to prayer. He sent a cure through Canadian Homeopathy.

      There are many forms of healing. Sometimes it’s enough just facing the fact that a disability may be permanent, and then going on to overcome that disappointment, by using and enjoying the life God has planned for you. Living victoriously with a disability allows one to comfort others in similar situations, by showing understanding and compassion, and by lending a helping hand. Helping other persons manage their limited lives, can be a blessing in itself. Try it. Challenge God to use you, just as you are.

      There is hope when one doesn't give up, and one understands all things are possible to those who believe. The key is surviving day by day by staying strong in mind and spirit. To those fortunate ones enjoying good health, and full ability, count it a blessing. I was not born disabled, but became one of "them", and I found myself asking for a fair shake. Ponder this the next time you look down on a disabled person, or feel annoyed by their inconvenient presence: but for the Grace of God, it could be you being "challenged".

 

Al D. Squitieri,Sr has written an autobiography entitled: Broken Glass And All, which gives full detail of his victory over Polymyositis. It is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iuniverse.com, or ordered at any bookstore by title or ISBN # 0-595-17206-7  Or adsword.windstream.net, 315 598-3305

 

 

 

Web Site adswordwright.com
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Reviewed by cynthia howard (Reader) 12/28/2009
i too have polymyositis, i am 23 and have had it since aug 08. i woke up with horrrrible pain in my shoulder, the dr said i must have over extended it. a week and a half later i was completely immobile and crippled. i am excited to have something to read by someone else who has it. and i gotta say i need lots of help :( but anyways i am grateful for his book and this.
Reviewed by Cryssa C 4/2/2009
We have a daughter with spina bifida. She has been in a wheelchair since she was two years old. It never ceases to amaze me how many ways people with disabilities are excluded in some form or another...little ways, such as a teacher asking everyone to stand up for the Pledge of Allegiance...etc... narrow aisles in classrooms, restaurants, etc... miles of stairs... Do you know that in many states if a hotel is three or fewer stories, they are not required to have an elevator?? And...in those same hotels, they fill up from the bottom up. I am always appalled when we have to spend literally hours searching for a hotel that can accommodate our daughter's wheelchair needs.
But...enough of my rant. Informative write & very insightful.
Cryssa
Reviewed by John Domino 3/5/2009
I agree!

Yours in Christ,

John Michael Domino
Reviewed by Robert Harrison 12/12/2006
M J, Who knows why we are given these disabilities, why are you as you are, why have I had Restless Leg Syndrome for the past twenty years. Why? They are challenges my friend, mayby not to help us but certainly to help others. We are teachers, we teach compassion, humility. patience and understanding. So my friend let us teach. It is such a short life, lets you and I enjopy it.
Reviewed by m j hollingshead 6/14/2005
interesting read

Books by
al d squitieri,sr



How to Solder Copper Pipe Like a Pro..

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Signed copy!




The Inner Workings of a Septic Tank System

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Signed copy!




Funny Side Up - The Book

Buy Options
Signed copy!
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, more..




broken glass and all

Buy Options
Signed copy!
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, more..




Half Bath in Your Basement

Buy Options
Signed copy!


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