October 2009

Towards the end of 2001 I had been flying commuter aircraft part-time in addition to looking after our lifestyle block, a small orchard with a few cattle.  At age 67-plus, the medics were getting concerned about my blood pressure and required me to undergo a “myocardial perfusion scan.”

I had always enjoyed a pretty slow heart rate but about this time it started dropping back to the ridiculous rate of 32 beats/min. By March 2002 I had to see a cardiologist. He did a cardiograph and announced I had complete heart blockage and asked whether I had anyone to take care of my vehicle because he wanted me to go straight to Auckland Hospital to have a pacemaker fitted. My immediate thoughts were to give my power away to such a device. But If I did, I would have little or no chance of ever correcting the problem myself. Of course I tried to make my refusal as polite as possible. I was told how irresponsible it was for me to consider driving home to Whangarei, New Zealand, in this condition. I had been flying just two or three weeks before that, so I paid for the most expensive cardiograph of my life and then drove home 160 kilometers.

They explained to me that the electrical signals were not telling the heart how fast to beat. I had to admit  that I was getting puffed just walking the 130-ft rise in about 300 meters from the house to the top paddock, and my usual 2-mile run had deteriorated to short runs with walks in between.

My next step was to take Jim Strauss’ heart drops for about a year. Meanwhile, at nearly every event I attended I made a card for Fieldwork^® with a red heart and inside it a triangle with P on the first line, 60 on the second line, and 120/60 on the bottom line. I repeated this right up to the 2008 Follow-Up. Since I was introduced to the Neighborhood Walk^®, one of my items on my List has been “My heart rate has always been about 60 and my blood pressure low.” Until early this year I had only partial success. Pulse was in the low  forties and 50 on rare occasions. I was still getting puffed going up hills. At my 75-year driver’s license medical in mid May, my pulse was a slightly surprising 48 while lying completely relaxed. 

Then it happened!  I woke up on July 27 with a pulse that kept perfect time with the clock ticking. A month later it’s still a regular 60, and I can walk up hills while doing the Neighborhood Walk^® without getting short of breath. This healing took over seven years and illustrates what Ramtha has always tried to tell us: Don’t doubt yourself and don’t ever give up!

Best regards,

Ken