I supported myself, buying the things I needed—food, clothing, housing—by selling contraband clothing from Honduras on the sidewalks, and cleaning products to local stores. All of this during a time when the military would seize products and food that people were carrying.
I was very lucky to not have ever had my products seized and I was able to save enough money to support myself during the five years I would spend at university so that I could focus all of my energy on that effort.
Finally, I graduated from the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de Nicaragua in the city of León (UNAN León) at the age of 27, in the year 1990. I completed my internship in 1991, and my obligatory social service work—a mandatory component of obtaining a medical degree—in Nicaragua from 1992 to 1993.
I then continued my work as a doctor in the Ministry of Health of Nicaragua. I had finally achieved the success I had dreamed of for so long! But, I only worked for eight short years before disaster struck.
After a long day at work, I was walking and slipped on the icy road, falling hard and injuring my back. I didn’t know it at the time, but one of my vertebrae had shifted. Day by day, the pain in my back grew worse until it was unbearable. One day I could not even sit up or get out of bed.
Over the course of the next five years, four surgeries and many attempts at therapy and various treatments, the pain only got progressively worse. I was suffering from nerve damage caused by bone fragments left over from my first two surgeries, and the following two surgeries—one to clean up the mess, and one to fuse my spine with steel rods—did not help.
By this point, I was immobile, bedridden. Everything hurt. Even my skin hurt from the slightest touch. I was utterly miserable, and it looked like I would be immobilized for the rest of my life. I lived in this miserable state for nearly a DECADE!
I was missing out on precious moments of my son’s childhood and a wonderful life with my husband. I felt my life slipping away, as water slips between your fingers. My sense of self, draining away, fading physically, mentally, and emotionally. I fell into a state of deep depression and suffering. It was no way to live—and certainly not the life I had envisioned for myself.
Even through all of this, deep down, something inside was telling me not to give up. My resolve to recover deepened, and slowly things began to change for the better.
I felt obligated to imagine, create, and invent my own medicine to recover. I found within myself the remedy to my pain and sickness—and that’s what I describe in detail in my book, The Three Pillars of Self-Healing. I call them the pillars because they are what supported me on my path to healing.
For fourteen regrettable, agonizing years I was reduced to not more than a shell of a person with petty thoughts, self-destructive desires, and a broken heart. But today, thanks to what I discovered in the depths of my despair, my heart overflows with gratitude and faith. I want to share with you what I found, so that if you are suffering, you may heal yourself just as I did.
What will you gain from
The Three Pillars of Self-Healing?