Hello, this is Ellen White calling from the United Kingdom.
"Hello Ellen", I replied.
May I speak with the woman who treats energy fields, please?
"That's me," I said, wondering how she'd got my number when I'd done everything to keep it secret.
Might I have a few minutes to discuss my condition with you?
"Sure," I said, loving her politeness.
She went on to describe her case. She was an Alzheimer's Patient living in a round the clock care center. She had no living family and considered herself among the lucky few people who could afford a care facility like hers. The reason she was calling me was because, "I would like to know if you have ever treated an Alzheimer's girl and if so did you know her in person." My answer to both questions was No.
Ellen went on to say, "I am going to die very soon. Not because of Alzheimers but because I'm old and its time to go. Before I leave I want to tell you some things that might help you understand Alzheimers people. They are people you know."
I was thinking, "Of all the people in the world, why did she choose me? I live across the world from her, have never treated or met a single Alzheimers patient and the only reason I've even heard of it is because of the novel 'The Notebook'. I didn't even have a website or a visiting card back then." I said however,"Go ahead Ellen, I'm listening."
"What's that darling?" she said. I realized I'd have to speak a little clearer - perhaps my accent was difficult to understand. I repeatedly myself louder and clearer.
She replied, "Darling, don't forget to feed my cat, Rani. She's given me her whole life, that one." And then she hung up.
For a long while I couldn't decide on whether she'd been calling me in secret or had actually lost her memory suddenly in the middle of a conversation as can happen with Alzheimers patients (this knowledge courtesy of 'The Notebook' again). I even wondered if someone I knew was playing a prank on me.
A few months later Ellen called again.
"Hello, this is Ellen White. Do you remember me?"
"Yes," I jumped, "Hello Ellen, how are you?"
"I'm fine, dear, but I could be better."
"I'm so glad you called Ellen, I've been wondering about you."
"I'm just an old lady with Alzheimers and lots of money," she chuckled.
"The last time you called you said you wanted to share something with me about Alzheimers that might help others like yourself." I said.
"Actually, love," she said, "I meant to give you information about Alzheimers to help others like yourself."
She went on, "I'm old and dying but not of Alzheimers, I'm old. Old people die."
"Come on Ellen," I said, "No one really dies."
"They do," she insisted. "My pastor loved me. When he married his fiance instead of me, he died. My cat died. My parrots died."
I didn't know what to say to that. She continued, this time softly and relaxed.
"I want you to know that one day you will treat people with Alzheimers, and that will make me very happy. I want to tell you everything you need to know so that you're prepared."
Now we were in my territory. Learning.
"I cannot say how grateful I am, Ellen," I said, reaching for my notebook, the one I use to jot information about specific conditions down.
Over the next few minutes Ellen answered my questions, giving me the information I needed to study her energy field. Then she asked, "How long would it take for you to analyse my energy field? Can I stay on the telephone?"
"No," I replied, "it takes me hours sometimes and yours is very interesting. Perhaps I can send you a letter or email or call you back?"
She completely ignored my question and said, "I don't know if I have the time dear. But my energy field is all yours. I don't want you to treat me. I don't want to remember the things I have forgotten. I just want to tell everyone that I'm still Ellen,
that people forget things when they don't want to remember them, that no one has the right to make them remember again."
I said, "I know what you mean. I know that every condition of our existence has to be respected, especially if it is our choice."
"Yes," she said emphatically. "When you treat Alzheimers Patients, don't treat them to make them be who they were. They don't want to go back. They want to go forward."
"Go forward to where?" the words slipped out.
"Forward to peace, love," she said. "All you spring chickens believe is that peace and love come from details. They don't. I love the world more now than before. I like it. I like having strangers come meet me. Its exciting."
"Ellen," I said, "I can't help loving you."
She was silent for a moment and then she said, "When you write this down to show to people can you mention my name in full and in blue writing? I have always wanted to come up on the screens in blue."
"I will," I said.
"Remember," she said, "these little things are important."
I didn't say anything, and then she hung up.
I never heard from Ellen again, and back then I didn't have the caller id facility on my landline phone so I couldn't trace her number either.
She may not have wanted me to treat her, but she did heal me. Her soft voice and words - each more beautiful than the last - are in my heart. Her energy field analysis makes up most of what I know about Alzheimers patients' cases today and I am so grateful for those few minutes she spent with me. It has made such a difference to me.
|
Hello, this is Ellen White calling from the United Kingdom.
"Hello Ellen", I replied.
May I speak with the woman who treats energy fields, please?
"That's me," I said, wondering how she'd got my number when I'd done everything to keep it secret.
Might I have a few minutes to discuss my condition with you?
"Sure," I said, loving her politeness.
She went on to describe her case. She was an Alzheimer's Patient living in a round the clock care center. She had no living family and considered herself among the lucky few people who could afford a care facility like hers. The reason she was calling me was because, "I would like to know if you have ever treated an Alzheimer's girl and if so did you know her in person." My answer to both questions was No.
Ellen went on to say, "I am going to die very soon. Not because of Alzheimers but because I'm old and its time to go. Before I leave I want to tell you some things that might help you understand Alzheimers people. They are people you know."
I was thinking, "Of all the people in the world, why did she choose me? I live across the world from her, have never treated or met a single Alzheimers patient and the only reason I've even heard of it is because of the novel 'The Notebook'. I didn't even have a website or a visiting card back then." I said however,"Go ahead Ellen, I'm listening."
"What's that darling?" she said. I realized I'd have to speak a little clearer - perhaps my accent was difficult to understand. I repeatedly myself louder and clearer.
She replied, "Darling, don't forget to feed my cat, Rani. She's given me her whole life, that one." And then she hung up.
For a long while I couldn't decide on whether she'd been calling me in secret or had actually lost her memory suddenly in the middle of a conversation as can happen with Alzheimers patients (this knowledge courtesy of 'The Notebook' again). I even wondered if someone I knew was playing a prank on me.
A few months later Ellen called again.
"Hello, this is Ellen White. Do you remember me?"
"Yes," I jumped, "Hello Ellen, how are you?"
"I'm fine, dear, but I could be better."
"I'm so glad you called Ellen, I've been wondering about you."
"I'm just an old lady with Alzheimers and lots of money," she chuckled.
"The last time you called you said you wanted to share something with me about Alzheimers that might help others like yourself." I said.
"Actually, love," she said, "I meant to give you information about Alzheimers to help others like yourself."
She went on, "I'm old and dying but not of Alzheimers, I'm old. Old people die."
"Come on Ellen," I said, "No one really dies."
"They do," she insisted. "My pastor loved me. When he married his fiance instead of me, he died. My cat died. My parrots died."
I didn't know what to say to that. She continued, this time softly and relaxed.
"I want you to know that one day you will treat people with Alzheimers, and that will make me very happy. I want to tell you everything you need to know so that you're prepared."
Now we were in my territory. Learning.
"I cannot say how grateful I am, Ellen," I said, reaching for my notebook, the one I use to jot information about specific conditions down.
Over the next few minutes Ellen answered my questions, giving me the information I needed to study her energy field. Then she asked, "How long would it take for you to analyse my energy field? Can I stay on the telephone?"
"No," I replied, "it takes me hours sometimes and yours is very interesting. Perhaps I can send you a letter or email or call you back?"
She completely ignored my question and said, "I don't know if I have the time dear. But my energy field is all yours. I don't want you to treat me. I don't want to remember the things I have forgotten. I just want to tell everyone that I'm still Ellen,
that people forget things when they don't want to remember them, that no one has the right to make them remember again."
I said, "I know what you mean. I know that every condition of our existence has to be respected, especially if it is our choice."
"Yes," she said emphatically. "When you treat Alzheimers Patients, don't treat them to make them be who they were. They don't want to go back. They want to go forward."
"Go forward to where?" the words slipped out.
"Forward to peace, love," she said. "All you spring chickens believe is that peace and love come from details. They don't. I love the world more now than before. I like it. I like having strangers come meet me. Its exciting."
"Ellen," I said, "I can't help loving you."
She was silent for a moment and then she said, "When you write this down to show to people can you mention my name in full and in blue writing? I have always wanted to come up on the screens in blue."
"I will," I said.
"Remember," she said, "these little things are important."
I didn't say anything, and then she hung up.
I never heard from Ellen again, and back then I didn't have the caller id facility on my landline phone so I couldn't trace her number either.
She may not have wanted me to treat her, but she did heal me. Her soft voice and words - each more beautiful than the last - are in my heart. Her energy field analysis makes up most of what I know about Alzheimers patients' cases today and I am so grateful for those few minutes she spent with me. It has made such a difference to me.