A Healing Crisis
Written July 8, 2001
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It’s 7:00 am and I am finally resting comfortably after 3 shots of pain medication. Jonathan sits beside me holding my hand, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress. We are
in the emergency room at St. Luke’s Hospital in Kansas City. I chose this hospital because it was close to home and was the best hospital of the three near us. We know no one and
have no doctor. We are taking our chances hoping that our guides are helping us and that we are picking up the clues and following them correctly.
I am grateful for the relief. We arrived at 5:00 am after the 800 mgs of Ibuprofen I had been taking every 3 hours no longer worked. I was barely able to walk, the pain searing through my
abdomen knifing me with every breath. After 2 hours of agony and waiting, then blood tests and what seemed like endless questions from attendants filling out their forms, I am at peace...a
temporary respite from the pain. We have undergone several tests already but still we know no more than we did when we first arrived.
I look over at my husband, the confusion and fear is written all over his face. How did we end up here? Why did the pain not go away on the third day of my period as it usually
does? What’s wrong with me? Will we be assigned a good doctor? Will I need surgery? How will we pay for all of this since we have no insurance? On and on the
questions run through our minds yet the answers are hours away. Unbeknownst to us, we are only at the beginning of what will be a 9 hour ordeal in the emergency room followed by surgery the
following day and then 2 more days to recover. All in all it was a 4 day odyssey that would change our lives forever.
My beloved doses off to sleep. My mind wanders back over the years reviewing my motherhood experiences. Two full term babies (one vaginal with episiotomy, one cesarean), a miscarriage, two
abortions (one early term and one late term), a tubal pregnancy and now this. I’ve had every type of pregnancy experience a woman can have…and I wonder why? As I relive each
experience, the old shame, guilt, and bitterness envelops me once again. I wonder if I will ever be able to release these emotions…to find the value and transmute them.
Somehow I feel that the abdominal pain that I have known for the last 9 years and that has finally driven me to the emergency room this night is my punishment for my mistakes...for believing the wrong
man, for not knowing enough about conception to keep from getting pregnant, for not being strong enough to say no, for needing affection and attention so much that I gave myself away for the few
scraps that were thrown my way by each abusive man I attracted into my life. I tell myself there is a value in all of this; there is a value in being born into a family of five brothers who had
little use for me and a father who was emotionally not there. There is a reason to grow up alone is such a large family with parents who are fighting their own war and the only attention you
get is from the one who is using you to hurt the other one.
It’s 8:00 am and a nurse comes in to give me a jug of nasty tasting liquid to drink. He tells us it is used in a CAT scan. Since all the other tests gave us no answers this is the
next logical step in the discovery process. I must drink one cup of it every 15 minutes until all of it is consumed. I balk on the last cup refusing to drink it. Jonathan stands by
my side encouraging me. He tells me that I need to drink this so that the test will not be off. Holding my nose, I finally get it down. They are going to scan my abdomen to look for
appendicitis. My intuition tells me that this pain is not appendicitis but it’s no use telling the doctors. They must be thorough and run their tests.
10:30 comes around and a doctor walks into our little room carrying a clipboard with the results of the CAT scan. He is young but feels to us to be very competent. We are using our
intuition, looking for any clue that we are on the right track. Calmly he informed us that the scan has identified a large pelvic mass the size of an orange, and that this mass is what is most
likely causing my pain. He informs us that surgery is the most likely option then he leaves the room after informing us that a pelvic exam is next on the list.
Another hour goes by and a different doctor comes in to do the exam, a female this time. We take this as a good sign. She, too, seems competent even though she is relatively
young. I’ve been given another shot of pain medication to prepare me. Gently she does the exam and then informs us that I will need a hysterectomy with removal of both ovaries.
As the door closes behind her, my head drops back on the bed in shock as hot tears spring to my eyes. I can’t believe what I am hearing. I turn to look at Jonathan. He has
covered his face with his hands but I can see the tears in his eyes. My heart breaks for my beloved and for myself. This has all happened so fast. When I came in to the
emergency room, I thought the worst thing that could happen was that I would have a laparoscopy. I thought the pain was from scar tissue or adhesions that had formed after the tubal ligation I
had had when they removed the ectopic pregnancy from my right tube. I would have never guessed it was a fibroid tumor in my womb that may or may not be malignant. We are exhausted,
stressed out and emotionally crushed. Our world seems to be collapsing around in as we sit alone in the harsh light of our little room.
Minutes ticked by as we struggled to come to terms with our situation. When we could speak again, we decided we needed to reach out for emotional support. I had the phone number of a good
friend committed to memory so we called her, but all we got was an answering machine. Jonathan left a message. As he hung up the phone, we both experienced a feeling of abandonment and
total isolation in the 3D sense, yet in the same space there was the feeling multidimensionally that we were not alone at all…that the room was full of people unseen, watching over us and
sending us their love and energetic support.
Waiting, waiting, I have lost track of time. They have given me another shot of pain medication to stop the burning, knifing pain that has returned. This pain is relentless, my inner child
yelling at me in a rage to do something to bring this belief system of guilt and shame to an end. We dose on and off until I need to get up to use the bathroom. Jonathan helps me off the
bed, gently supporting me. When I return we decide that it is time for him to go find out what’s happening. We are waiting for the OB doctor to consult with an oncologist to
determine the next step. We look at the clock and realize it has been 90 minutes since the OB doctor left.
Jonathan left the room to find the doctor only to meet up with a wonderful lady named Sandy. She is a patient advocate whose job it is to run interference between the patients and the medical
staff. Jonathan waits patiently at the nurses’ station to catch someone’s attention. Sandy walks up and in her soothing, melodic voice asks him what it is he
needs. Jonathan explains our situation to her and says that he wants to know what is going on with the doctors.
I remain in the room staring at the ceiling trying not to think about what lies ahead. Jonathan returns with Sandy. After a brief explanation of our circumstances, Sandy takes over and
leaves to get an update from the doctors. A few minutes later she returns and tells us to our astonishment that we are waiting to be admitted upstairs. Apparently the OB doctor forgot to
come and tell us. That was when the full impact of my impending hysterectomy hit us. Up untill then there was still some hope that it would not have to happen. Sandy can see we are
distressed by the news. We had no idea that this step had already been decided. Then, like an angel she turns what up till now appears to be a very dismal and shocking situation into one of
hope and promise. She tells us of her hysterectomy and assures me that I will be much happier without my female organs. Within minutes I feel the light returning to brighten my inner
darkness as I listen to her words of encouragement.
Next she assesses our emotional and physical state, leaves and returns with warm blankets, which she places over me, saving one to wrap around Jonathan’s shoulders. We are both shivering due to
the cold temperature of the room. Next she leaves to get some food for Jonathan and then returns to take him to another room where he can eat and sleep awhile. She tells us that it will
be some time before we are admitted upstairs since the hospital is short on beds at the moment. After settling Jonathan she returns to dim the lights and help me settle down for a long needed
rest. The dark energy of the past hours has finally been shifted. I fall asleep thinking about Sandy and how she had come and changed our lives, leaving us with hope. What a
gift she had been, arriving when we needed her the most. I thanked Devin for sending her to us. At that moment I knew that we were being taken care of in a most loving way.
It’s 2:00 pm and Jonathan has returned looking better and a bit rested. I notice that the redness has left his eyes and his spirits seem higher. He takes my hand and tells me that
whatever happens, we will get through it together. I give a silent prayer of thanks that he is here with me. An attendant comes in to let us know that we will soon be taken
upstairs. Life seems a little brighter now that our emergency room ordeal is near an end.
We are taken on a long ride through what seems like a maze of corridors. Finally we stop in the hallway of a wing on the 4th floor. The nurses are talking to one another. They are confused and a bit agitated. It seems there has been a mix up. The bed I was supposed to have gotten had been taken just minutes before by another patient that had been wheeled in shortly ahead of me. There is no other bed available but the one in a private room. The head nurse tells the attendant to take me there. I am taken into a clean, quiet room next to the nurse’s station. It has a magnificent view of the park. Once again I realize I am being taken care of by our guides. I feel blessed to have this room to myself. After several minutes of nurses and attendants fusing around me, more pain medication is administered through the IV in my wrist and I am ready to drift into sleep again.
Jonathan stays a while and then goes home as we had agreed. That evening I awake to begin preparation for my two surgeries the following day, a colonoscopy in the morning followed by a
hysterectomy in the afternoon. More nasty tasting stuff to drink only this time it is a gallon instead of a quart. After throwing up the first 3 cups full, I end up pouring a quarter of
it in the bathroom sink. How empowered that made me feel! I get another quarter of it down and decide I have had enough. My bowels are clearly empty. I had taken two Turkey Rhubarb
capsules the night before I came to the hospital so in my mind, there was no need to drink the remainder of this colon cleanser. I go back to sleep determined to stand my ground with the nurses.
Morning arrives and I am ready for the next phase of this journey. I have been successful with the nurses and much to my suprise they inform the doctors that I have the cleanest colon they have
ever seen. Must have been that Turkey Rhubarb. I feel triumphant and I climb onto the gurney that will take me to my first surgery of the day. No more doing what doctors and nurses
say just because they are doctors and nurses. I have decided to use this hospital experience to practice taking my power back from these demigods.
I wake from the colonoscopy to the sound of the doctor telling me everything is okay. The tumor had not affected my colon. Back in my room I await the next surgery. I feel frightened
and lost again. My feelings of empowerment from the morning seemed to have evaporated. I long to talk to my mom, to hear her voice but she is many miles away and in ill health. I
curl up on my side and cry myself back to sleep.
I wake again but this time to the sound of Jonathan’s voice. He has arrived in time for the hysterectomy. I notice how relieved I am that he is there with me. My ability to put
on a good front has escaped me. I let him see the real me hoping that he will be strong enough for the both of us now. He bends over and kisses me. I look in his eyes and see that
the answer is yes. I am relieved. Finally, a man that I can count on in an emergency!
1:30 rolls around and they come to get me for the surgery. Jonathan accompanies me to the pre op room. He listens carefully as one doctor after another comes in to introduce him/herself
and informs me about his/her part in the operation and what it will entail. I repeatedly stress that I want them to save my ovaries if at all possible. I don’t want to go through
the suffering my mother did.
Finally they take me into the operating room. A nurse places a mask over my mouth and nose telling me to breath deeply and slowly. As the fog begins to cloud my mind I ask Devin and my
guides to guide the surgeon’s knife and that I will accept whatever the outcome may be. I put this operation and myself into their hands as the anesthetic overtakes me.
Once again I awake, this time in a different room. I hear the noise of machines and the woman beside me moaning in pain. I notice my own pain and realize with great fear that I cannot
breathe. I try to tell the nurses but they cannot hear me. I drift in and out struggling to keep my eyes open and focus my thoughts. The room is a swirl of colors one minute but
clear the next. I feel as if I am in a nightmare…sounds become distorted. I hear the labor of my frail efforts to breath. This time I speak louder, “I can’t
breathe!” I nurse hears me and comes to my side. “You are breathing” she says to me but I don’t feel that I am. What I am trying to say is that I can’t
breathe very deeply…not even half of a normal breath. Thoughts of being mummified fill my mind and my heart begins to beat erratically as I panic and struggle for breath. I lose
consciousness again, too tired to continue the fight.
I have no idea how long I have been in the recovery room. I have lost my sense of time. Slowly the haze begins to dissolve and I am partially coherent again. I hear the voice of
another attendant from behind me telling me that they are going to take me back to my room. Another journey down a maze of hallways with each bump sending pain shooting through my body. I
think to myself, “Hell can be no worse than this.” When I arrive back in my room, Jonathan is waiting for me. I tell him that I can’t breathe but there is nothing that he can
do. The nurse tells him that my breathing problem is due to the anesthesia in my lungs.
Once the nurses have gone and we are alone he tells me about the surgery. I recall only bits of pieces of the conversation. It wouldn’t be until the next day when the doctor arrives
to talk to me that the news that I have lost all my female organs sinks in. A few hours later Jonathan leaves for the night. He is tired but relieved that the surgery is over and I am going to
be okay. But for me this day and night are one and the same…a haze of pain and mental fog. I punch the button attached to my IV to receive another shot of morphine which I hope will
send me back into oblivion.
It’s 6:00 am and I am awake and coherent. It has been the night from hell. I am irritable and so very tired from being awakened every hour to receive more pain medication or have my
blood pressure checked. I’m ready to shoot the next nurse or attendant who enters the room to disturb me. Once again I give thanks for a private room.
The next hours are spent working to get the catheter removed and those crazy inflatable airbags taken off my legs so that I can get up and around. Soon a nurse arrives to help me take my first
walk. I am weak and dizzy the first time she stands me on my feet but I am determined to get out of this hospital as soon as I can so I force myself to walk as balanced as I can to the
Later in the morning the doctor arrives to check my incision and tell me about the operation. She explains why they felt the need to take both my ovaries stating that it was because the
pathologists found some unusual cells on the top of my uterus and since they couldn’t identify them and rule out cancer, they decided to play it safe and take the ovary they had intended to
leave in. She also tells me that they will not know if the tumor was malignant or not for another few days. Although I understand her reasoning, it doesn’t make me feel any better
about my future. All I can see in front of me is years battling a hormone imbalance and the effects it will have on me. I feel as though I am living my mother’s life all over again.
By the afternoon my spirits have returned to their normal sunny state. Jonathan arrives and tells me how he lost the crown off one of his molars while eating risotto. He asks me for the name of
my dentist. Amazingly he is able to get in that afternoon. When he returns he tells me how he talked to the receptionist and that she had also had a hysterectomy and gave him a referral to
a doctor who does natural hormone replacement therapy. Once again we see the footprint of our guide’s actions on our behalf. Not only has Dee explained the recovery process to
Jonathan, which makes him feel better but we now have a solution to the hormone replacement issue that has so concerned me. I see a way around the years of struggle that my mother went through
and intuitively I know I will be okay.
The remainder of the day is spent sleeping. Only the sound of the phone ringing with calls from friends and family, the delivery of flowers or the arrival of a doctor interrupt the blessed
silence. I keep the blinds closed on my beautiful view, focusing all my energy on recovery.
At 5:00 pm the following day (Thursday) Jonathan arrives to take me home. I emerge into the bright afternoon sunlight feeling triumphant and happy. My 9 years of pain is at an end and
though the price was high and I feel a great loss around it, I feel it was worth it. I have no regrets about this one.
It’s 7:00 pm on Sunday, July 08, 2001. I sit in my rocking chair as I type this. I think about the many gifts and blessings that have come out of this ordeal. I feel it is good
to write them down. Through all of this I have come to see what a wonderful partner I have in my husband and that I must have been successful in changing my partnership pattern to be able to
draw him into my life. I learned that I have a man in my life who can cry with me, while at the same time being strong for me. What a rare gift that is.
I see what wonderful friends I have in those who are part of our Nibiruan family. I was very surprised at the amount of cards, letters, emails, calls and flowers I received once people were
informed about what had happened. I had spent the last several years afraid to open my heart completely for fear that it would backfire again and I would be harmed as had happened in past
lives. Our family showed me that that was all in the past and would not be repeated this time. Now I feel the warmth and closeness to them that I have always desired. By being
willing to ask for and receive healing energy from others, I have learned that there is support out there for me if only I am willing to be open to receiving it.
Opening up and being willing to really step out there into the public arena is part of my purpose for being here I believe. I feel this in the very depths of my being and it has frightened me
for many years. I have known for some time that staying secluded in my own little corner of the world would only be allowed for a period of time and that at some point I would have to change
course and come out from hiding. But I have resisted, I have stayed secluded too long I believe, and this resistance has created many problems for me. Now, because of all the support I
have received through this healing crisis, I feel that I can be safe when exposing myself so I am much more willing to travel and speak than before. So this is another blessing that I feel has
come out of this crisis.
I learned that when I live on faith things work out for the best and I am taken care of. The fact that we had no medical insurance having given it up years ago and a fear-based practice did not
keep us from getting excellent medical care and even a private room in a top-notch hospital. And unbeknownst to us at the time, we had chosen a teaching hospital where those without insurance
are placed in the care of residents who are overseen by excellent teaching physicians. And since we were placed in the physician educational program we were eligible for financial assistance,
which will leave us with only a portion of the total bill to pay. Finding this out substantially increased my level of trust in following spiritual guidance and my ability to follow the signs.
I came to see that the tumors (yes we found out later that there were several of them) were the physical manifestation of all my guilt and shame over the decisions I made around my motherhood
experiences. And once I had released the guilt, which occurred just two days before I went to the hospital, my soul allowed me to release the physical manifestation as well. I believe that
the 9 days of relentless pain were my Inner Child telling me that she was ready to release this physical stuff, and that it was no longer needed. What I first perceived as a failure to clear my
emotional garbage turned out to be simply the final step in clearing it from my physical form. Had I not transmuted the guilt, I don’t think the pain would have continued in such a way as
to drive me to take action and get to the hospital. I believe it would have stopped and I would have gone on for many more months or years enduring the monthly return of it.
The weird cells on my uterus remain a mystery. When I went to have the staples removed from my abdomen I was told only that they were not cancerous. Even with further questioning I
couldn’t get any more information. Whether the pathologists figured them out or just let it drop is unknown. I suppose that if I am to know then I will at some point in the
future. So for now I am fine with the answer. I just want peace in my life for a while. Please, no more big lessons to go through and figure out! I need a breather.
I feel I have been somehow changed by this experience. I feel more connected to earth, to 3D and feel a real gratitude to 3D medicine. I have learned that even though we do our
multidimensional clearing, there is still a place for 3D medicine in all of it. For a long time I felt that I was to move completely away from 3D medicine and rely only on alternative and
spiritual healing but now I am rethinking that. After all part of multidimensional is 3D, isn’t it? So why try to remove the 3D portion of it? Isn’t that what I had been
trying to do? If we are ever going to create a bridge we must continue to include 3D as part of it. I think that is a piece of what I was to learn from all of this.
Perhaps I could have discovered a way to remove the tumors that bloated and distorted my uterus and abdomen metaphysically or with alternative therapies but I don’t feel that was to be my path
this time. I have always known that I came to be bridge between the higher realms and 3D and now I see that this healing crisis gave me yet another experience in which to learn how to do
Perhaps I went too fast in my emotional clearing. I have been told many times to slow down because my body could not keep up the pace. Perhaps if I had gone slower I would not have created
this disease in my uterus. Perhaps I tried to clear it all too quickly which brought on this disease. Based on medical records, those tumors did not begin to grow until shortly after my
walk-in. So once again, the need to create a bridge and walk slowly across it instead of running, giving the body time to keep pace has become very clear to me.
On the other hand, having experienced every form of motherhood is a part of what I was to do when it comes to creating templates for the consciousness grid of earth. Surely there must be a reason
for me to have experienced all these forms of conception and the various outcomes. Maybe it’s an archetypal template that I am helping to create and with the release of the guilt for each
choice/outcome, I provide a path for other women to use to release their guilt too. Maybe it’s both of these, the bridge and the template.
And perhaps there are other gifts to come out of all this. Only time will tell. For now I focus on the ones I am aware of, grateful that I am on this planet and a part of all the
magnificent changes taking place. With my loving man by my side, I feel ready to tackle whatever tomorrow may bring.
The Nibiruan Council
Jelaila Starr, author of We are the Nibiruans is an internationally known channel, teacher, and counselor. Through her lectures, workshops, and articles, Jelaila's message of compassion has touched the hearts of people around the world inspiring hope and understanding while providing solutions to some of today’s most pressing challenges.
As a psychic/intuitive counselor, Jelaila works with individuals to assist them with emotional clearing, healing relationships, and DNA Recoding. Jelaila's unique
approach enables her clients to clearly discover who they are, what they came to do, and how to achieve it.