Others tend to distrust this type of healing work, and I don't blame them. There is nothing to see, no physical mending of body parts, no medical tests to be run that confirm healing has taken place. This is healing work made visible only by words and descriptions of souls disappearing into the light of their new destination. How do others know what I see and hear souls say is real? They don't.

What's it like to put words on the screen at half the speed I'm used to? Laborious is the word that comes to mind, although my brain also seems to be working at half speed as well. To write a blog, you need to plan your time around fatigue, pain management, doctor's visits, and reduced mobility for all the tasks involved, like getting dressed, unscrewing pill bottles, and the mayonnaise lid that's always screwed on too tightly.

It was January 2026. For six weeks, I suffered with icepick headaches, a sore jaw, fatigue, and a feeling that I was revisiting my autoimmune disease from 2017. It felt the same–lack of appetite, the feeling I was sick, rapid weight loss–but I couldn't account for a cough, my very sore neck, and those headaches that felt like ice picks were targeting my head in sharp jabs every few minutes.