Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 815 by Angharad

I entered a large bedroom, the centre of which was dominated by two single beds. In the one nearest the door lay a man, I had to look twice to recognise him as the one who’d been running a meeting with a minister and two bankers. Now he looked much older with a grey pallor which didn’t bode well, his lips had a blue-grey tinge to them as did his nose. Okay, it was November, but it wasn’t cold yet. This man was seriously ill. Under his nose was a green plastic tube, with inserts for his nostrils, it was attached to a large tank of oxygen. His breathing was laboured and I felt my task was verging on hopeless.

“Hello, Sir George, it’s Cathy just come up to see how you are. I heard you’d been taken ill.” I watched his eyes, and although closed, I could tell he was hearing me–how much he was processing–was anyone’s guess. However, I’d come here to help and judging by the way his wife had relaxed when I touched her, I still had some sort of effect on people.

“I think I can help you to feel better, so in a moment, you’ll feel me touch you. I want you to concentrate on that touch and what I say to you when I say it. Don’t worry, I’ll remind you and guide you as we go along. The one thing you should try and remember if you can, is that you are going to get better and function as well as you did before. So just hold that in mind as we proceed. I’m just bringing up a chair for me to sit on, now you’ll feel me hold your hand. Here we go.”

I seated myself and picked up his quite large mitt in mine. It constantly surprised me how large men’s hands are compared to mine. His hand felt cold, as if his body was dying from the periphery inwards–given that he was suffering from acute heart failure, it wasn’t surprising as his body tried desperately not to die.

As I held his hand in both of mine, I visualised a light shining down from somewhere above me, entering my body through the crown chakra and passing through my hands and into his. The colour of the light was unimportant, but I suspected from previous reports that it would be blue or white or a combination of both. It was a big if, but it presumed that something was happening or going to. Like I said, a big if.

I’ve reported before when the energy or power, however you want to call it, has happened, it hasn’t always done what I thought I wanted to happen. Whilst, I’m not so naive that I would say I never wanted anyone to die whom I tried to help, it sometimes helped them do so in some way. This could be what happened today, if anything happened at all. It could be, after my big build up courtesy of Stella, nothing happened–which might teach her to keep her large cakehole buttoned, or it might not. Stella was as unpredictable as my healing skills.

I felt that I didn’t have any skills other than acting as some form of catalyst for whatever happened to happen. I didn’t think about channelling or conduits, or the G word. I tried not to even consider whether it was a spiritual or purely a natural phenomenon. I was inclined towards the latter, but I didn’t want to dwell on this as it would distract me from helping Sir George in whatever way I could.

“Sir George, you might feel a coolness or tingling coming from your hand or arm–it’s okay, just let whatever is happening there spread gently around your whole body. It will take a little while, so I’ll stay quiet for the moment, except to say, that what I am doing is helping you, nothing I do will harm or hurt you–and have done this before, so I know it’s safe. Oh you may form an impression of a colour being around you, like a coloured light–that’s not unusual and is fine. I’ll be quiet now.”

I concentrated on pulling down the energy or light and plugging it into him though his hand. I could sense–although given what his wife had said, he had massive damage to his heart. It felt as if the energy was flowing straight up his left arm only to be barred by his heart–like some sort of obstruction–a clot or maybe dying heart muscle? I tried to visualise the light–yeah it was easier to see it as light–moving around his chest and entering his heart from the right side, both sides being worked on at the same time–like two teams of rescuers working on either side of a barrier to reach the injured in the middle of the mess.

I kept pouring in the light, sucking it down from wherever it originated, through me and into Sir George. I kept saying to myself, over and over again like a mantra, the light is healing anything it meets and restoring things to a healthy condition. I said it out loud a few times for Sir George to get the idea of what I was doing–or should I say, trying to do.

As is usual in these things, after a while I get so locked into the process I almost trance–insofar as being unaware of time or space or anything else, except the light and the progress it was making. Today’s was difficult and I felt a bit of fear creeping into my head, in the form of doubt. I had to actively think past that and imagine I could see him up and moving about normally. It’s important not to think negatives or mention them–you just go with positives, stressing that someone is going to get better rather than not die.

I felt myself completely enclosed in a ball of pure white light, as if anyone looking at me would have been blinded by it, it felt so bright, yet it was wrapping me inside itself and whatever else was happening seemed on a different level, for this moment and it probably only was a moment, I felt to be somewhere special–I was enraptured, I knew everything and nothing, I felt everything and nothing except the moment and the intensity of the light. I knew I could trust whatever was happening and that I shouldn’t try to do anything but relax into the moment and the light. I was floating, bathed in a sea of light–there was nothing else–only the light. It was timeless.

Whatever it was I felt eventually faded. It may have been a nanosecond or half an hour. I felt strange–elated yet relaxed, as if whatever had been necessary–had happened. As I came back to my body–yes, it felt as if I wasn’t in it and was returning to it–I became aware of the hand both of mine were holding. It felt warmer and relaxed–so something could be happening. I opened my eyes and kneeling the other side of the bed, her eyes closed as in prayer, was Lady Hilary. A complication I hadn’t anticipated and it concerned me a little. However, she hadn’t actually stopped me, so I continued.

I now needed to speak to my patient–this could be tricky. “Sir George, I want you now to feel the light moving around your body, like it was entering through your lungs and being pumped about your body like oxygen is when you breathe, carried around by the circulation. Feel this light–this energy–entering into your bloodstream and moving all over your body–I want you to feel it bathing every cell, reaching every nook and cranny, taking away any darkness that’s there and healing any damage which could be there. Feel it percolating through your body and feel yourself growing stronger and stronger as it happens–feel yourself coming back to us as you normally are, fit and strong and healthy.”

I felt no interruption from Lady Hilary, so despite being told not to touch her husband, she was allowing me to continue. I tried to focus some light on her–she would need help to cope with the trauma she’d experienced since all this started, it wasn’t going to be easy.

I allowed myself to lapse back into my little trance and once again I was engulfed in a light, this time a rose pink one–that would have surprised me if I was analysing my process, but instead I was going with the flow–if the light wanted or needed to be rose pink–it could be rose pink, I didn’t care or need to, I trusted it and I hoped it trusted me.

I felt the energy gently increase, like one drop at a time and suddenly I was back in the intense white light–it felt like I was sitting in the middle of a sun, only one with no heat. It felt so bright that it shone through my eyelids and entered my body through my eyes–a massive photon stream drilling itself into me. I could do nothing but be there, floating in this enormous burst of light, like a supernova was happening around me. I can’t describe it–but for an instant I felt a surge of joy fill my whole being–like a psychic super orgasm–it consumed my whole being–then it was gone and I was left in the darkness.

I opened my eyes and it was dark. I glanced at the clock, it was after seven–I’d been there since before noon–I was tired and very hungry. I was still holding the hand of Sir George, it felt warm and when I touched his face, the skin felt warm and dry–so far so good. I listened to his breathing, he was still wearing the oxygen, but his respiration sounded good, as if he was sleeping, slow and regular. I heard another breather in the room and on glancing behind me, saw Lady Hilary, fast asleep on top of her bed.

“I’m going now, Sir George, you will sleep and wake normally tomorrow morning feeling much much better. Things are going to be alright. I’m going now but you will feel the light continues to stay with you, helping your body to relax and finish repairing itself. Enjoy your sleep and wake refreshed in the morning.” I patted his hand and left the sleeping couple to rest.

“Well?” asked Stella as I found my way to the dining room, they were all tucking into a curry–not what I fancied at all.

“I hope it’s worked.”

“What do you mean, hope?”

“Nothing is certain, Stella except you know what and there’s the rub.”

“Bloody hell, Lady Macbeth strikes again,” she said and Tom and Simon snorted.

“I think it’s Hamlet,” I argued.

“Oh I see, ‘cos Greta Garbo could do Hamlet, Cathy Watts has to try it.”

“I vant a tuna salad,” I said in my best Swedish accent and even Stella cracked up at that one.