The Chronic Miasmas
by José Miguel Mullen
The chronic miasmas are the forsaken children of Homeopathy. Either they are roundly ignored or they are mentioned only in passing in many texts and treatises. Yet, the chronic miasmas are, directly or indirectly, the mother lode of all diseases currently known and still to be known by Humanity. Here I am going to describe Psora, the first of the three classic chronic miasmas originally studied and described by Dr. Hahnemann. I am then going to describe the other two, Sycosis and Syphilis. These chronic miasmas are like the three successive stops or stations in the downward path toward self-annihilation. After that I will also describe the chronic miasmas Tuberculinism and Cancerinism, that configure the profile of patients prone to fall ill with tuberculosis and malignant solid tumors, respectively.
The majestic harmony of the Universe is maintained through order and balance. All creatures are part of the Universe. When in balance, Whole Human Beings partake of Universal harmony and thrive and develop within it. Balanced Human Beings are aware that they, as well as every other creature, participate of this Harmony as part of the Universal Whole. There is a sense of profound joy and fulfillment in identifying with the Universe and its magnificent Harmony. Universal energy vitalizes and fortifies well-balanced Whole Human Beings, and this strength allows them to love, grow and identify with the Universe in all of its manifestations.
Not only that. Participation allows Whole Human Beings to radiate this cosmic harmony into Nature’s chaos. Consequently, Nature becomes more harmonious. Nature does not harm—cannot harm—well balanced Whole Human Beings. Harmony and aggression are antonyms and they simply cannot coexist with each other. Harmony breeds health and health breeds harmony. Or, in other words, overall balance begets health and health leads each individual toward overall balance. Until, once our part in this magnus opus has been concluded, we surrender to Nature the body She temporarily granted us to bring Her a bit closer to cosmic harmony.
Loss of balance is the main characteristic of Psora. Psoric patients become so many discordant notes in the Symphony of the Universe due to their loss of balance. They feel cut off from the Whole and left aside, forsaken and unprotected. They consequently assume that they are vulnerable. The keyword in Psora is vulnerability. Psoric patients feel vulnerable because they become hostages of Nature. All that Nature has to offer is its chaos. One of the characteristics of Nature’s chaos is the survival of the strongest; that is, of the most successful predators. Being hostages of Nature, psorics have no way of protecting themselves against the combined ravages of chaos and predators. Psorics feel extremely fearful and vulnerable and desperately search for some form of security and protection, no matter the cost. Even if this spurious protection means the destruction of whole ecosystems—even if it means the elimination of other Human Beings. Due to their identification with the chaos that surround them, psorics consider this dog-eat-dog way of living as normal, and endeavor to find some ways to somehow control it and thus successfully survive. Most Philosophical Schools, as well as the Whole body of Allopathic Medicine and militarism have stemmed from this Psoric awareness of vulnerability. There is very little psorics can safely trust in this Earth. Their very bodies become time bombs. Awareness of vulnerability strengthens enslavement to chaos and begets suffering. This subjugation, in turn, makes psorics still more acutely aware of how vulnerable they are—a vicious cycle. To boot, psorics’ soon develop an inner chaos and turmoil that are but the mirror image of the chaos and turmoil that surround them.
Psorics know that they have no choice but to abide by Nature’s whims. At the same time, they are profoundly aware that there is something very wrong in this scenario. Deep inside, psorics feel they deserve at least some modicum of peace and fulfillment, that they shouldn’t be hostages, and that Nature should not really be a cruel master to be feared. The happiness they seek in the midst of chaos is elusive, yet frequently appears to be so close at hand, even attainable sometimes. As when one feels great, or falls in love, or experiences health or is young, or has a child, or succeeds in one’s career, or becomes one with a beautiful spring sunset. But then, for psorics, happiness is what a mirage is for travelers dying of thirst in the desert. It soon vanishes. Suffering strikes immediately after those brief moments of bliss, usually out of the blue. Again psorics feel crushed by the weight of their yoke as they realize still again how vulnerable and defenseless they actually are, how little control they have over themselves and their fate and how much they are at the mercy of Nature, its chaos and its whims. It is then that they let out their cry of rebellion. A cry that eventually becomes drowned in impotent anger and frustration, as psorics understand that fulfillment has eluded them again. That they are nothing but shadows that stagger in a valley of tears where meaninglessness suffering, disease, heartbreak and untimely death are rampant and out of control—while constantly knowing, deep inside, that they deserve a different and vastly better fate.
This profound yearning for what psorics deserve as Human Beings is found at the root of many beliefs, fables and legends as old as Humanity. All the way from the existence of a Heaven after death to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; from the awareness of Paradise lost to the moral in the fable of the ugly duckling. There is perfect joy out there, somewhere; there is peace and happiness that rightfully belong to everybody. Yet, and aside from a few fleeting moments, joy is always beyond the psorics’ reach, alas! The emotional and physical costs of Psora are appalling. Emotionally, it gives rise to confusion, double guessing and self-doubt. And also an overwhelming and all consuming feeling of anxiety, frustration and distrust. Distrust, in turn, breeds isolation, because it effectively thwarts the psorics' need to reach out to other Human Beings. Physically, the imbalance brought about by Psora produces most acute and chronic disease-syndromes. Acute, when they are the consequence of sudden imbalance brought about by Nature or by the patient’s inner chaos. In chronic patients, on the other hand, disease-syndromes arise, directly or indirectly, from their chronic and progressive imbalance. Constant suffering and uncertainty, together with yearning for happiness and inability to grasp it, make psorics imagine that they are probably being punished for some wrong deed. Such can be the only conceivable explanation for the lifetime of misery and hopelessness they are forced to endure. Perhaps they, or else some forebear, may have committed some unspeakable crime that justifies their suffering. Whatever that transgression may have been, psorics feel they have to atone for it. Sometimes I wonder if this is where the myth of the Original Sin sprung from, for it is encountered in the myths and legends of most peoples, from the most primitive to the most evolved. Guilt, in psorics, is the consequence of feeling as if they must have committed some crime they know they have not committed, but that nevertheless have to atone for. The imbalance of psoric patients, like everything else in Nature, is always progressive.
It is this quality of progressiveness what makes psorics more and more vulnerable to every conceivable disease, whether acute or chronic, as time goes by and inexorably impels them toward an untimely death. Also due to their progressive imbalance, psoric patients are not able to successfully terminate any disease. Each illness leaves them weaker, more intoxicated and more imbalanced—and also better prepared to welcome the next, and usually more severe, disease-syndrome.
Dr. Hahnemann called Psora “the Hydra of the thousand heads, that grows one thousand heads for each that has been chopped off.” Each head corresponds to each individual disease-syndrome suffered by the patient, and each decapitation to each Allopathic cure. The meaning of Dr. Hahnemann’s metaphor is that myriad new disease-syndromes will appear every time a disease-syndrome has been successfully “cured” in a psoric patient by Allopathic means. This is so because every successful Allopathic “cure” does nothing to correct the psorics’ subjacent chronic and progressive imbalance, which is the real cause of every disease-syndrome. To boot, each of these cures usually replaces the patient’s disease by the one produced by the side effects and toxicity of Allopathic treatments. Both factors make the patient more vulnerable to the onslaught of the next disease. Health, for psorics, is only a short interval of wellness between two bouts of disease.
In his Treatise of chronic diseases, Dr. Hahnemann divides Psora into Latent—or dormant—and Manifest. Patients can harbor latent Psora for many years. At this stage, psorics are asymptomatic and rarely afflicted by disease-syndromes. Patients suffering from Manifest Psora, on the other hand, sustain every form of acute and chronic disease-syndrome known and still to be known by Humanity, with the exception of illnesses arising from the chronic miasmas Sycosis and Syphilis, that will be described next. Dr. Hahnemann describes a long list of manifestations of latent psora in his Treatise of chronic diseases. And, in the Chapter devoted to Psora, he describes the factors that can transform latent psora into manifest. These factors are usually the consequences of improper treatments, of leading an amoral life and of severe emotional and/or physical traumas and stresses. Dr. Hahnemann affirms that, in many people, Latent Psora is slumbering within, ready to become Manifest. He illustrates this assertion with many examples. In every instance, Latent Psora becomes manifest in the form of some serious disease or another—that, if inadequately treated, will inevitably give rise to another serious disease, and then to still another and another, all the way unto the unfortunate patient's untimely death.
Elimination of Psora will bring the patient back to health, and through health into balance and harmony. Its worsening will make the psoric patient slide into Sycosis. This can happen very easily. All the psoric has to do is to throw a mantle of glittering arrogance over the heap of his or her Psora. The keyword of Psora is vulnerability. That of Sycosis is aggrandizement.
Sycotics believe that they are truly remarkable, that they have bona fide, authentic greatness and that they are practically invulnerable. This feeling of self-aggrandizement, brought about by arrogance and accepted by the patient as real, breeds a very heady sensation of power and strength. Sycosics will attempt to control the environment, as well as those who surround them. This is as close as they can get to their imagined grandeur. Usually, there is neither vulnerability nor anxiety in sycosics. There may be some mistrust, but it generally doesn’t bother them. They feel in control of it all. Sycotics feels quite smug and secure—and powerful. The irony here is that sycotics don’t know that the stuffing of their illusory greatness and power is actually their Psora. Sycotics don’t recognize this fact because they have carefully concealed their Psora underneath a glittering mantle of arrogance and self-importance. All Sycotics see, therefore, is how big, wonderful and powerful they are— while conveniently ignoring what their spurious greatness is really made of.
Sycotics are organized. Everything has to be carefully planned and on the go. People and events must become predictable. A very important source of uncertainty and ultimately of insecurity is thus eliminated. Predictability increases the sycotics’ smugness. Sycotics are typically found at meetings, around Executive Board tables or in other such-like scenarios of importance. Impeccable poised and alert, receiving tough problems and delivering their answers with gusto, ease, aplomb and éclat. They have an aura of self-confidence. They like to lead and to command. They also tend to be very competitive and ambitious.
They are not particularly eclectic when it comes to choosing the means they will use in order to reach the top of the heap. Sycotics are wonderfully clear-minded and organized in matters set outside and around them. Yet, they appear to be totally incapable of grasping whatever may be going on inside themselves or within the people the are closer to. For instance, their families will usually well provided for, although the sycotics’ capacity to relate to family members is generally superficial and limited, lest care and solicitousness may make them aware of their vulnerability and thus also of their Psora. Their bodies (and let us not forget that our bodies are our most obedient servants) will also react in a sycotic fashion, that is, abnormally increasing or enlarging. Benign growths, such as warts and the like, will start to appear. Blood cholesterol may also start to go up—with blood pressure readings often dovetailing. Their lively mantle of arrogance becomes frazzled here and there after, life roughens sycotics up a bit. This is when they start to catch glimpses of the Psora writhing underneath. And sycotics don’t like that sight a bit. These glimpses bring about the first chills of insecurity and vulnerability, as they see where their power and strength actually stem from. Sycotics usually become workaholics at this stage—anything in order to run away from the terrifying awareness that they can indeed be as vulnerable as every[psoric]body else. They may start living at a frantic pace, and so run away from themselves and self-awareness. Soon they start needing stimulants, alcohol and the like, that they will consume in larger and larger quantities. At this stage, stress begins to increase by leaps and bounds, as well as the sycosics’ inability to deal with it. Stress must be ignored at all costs, though. It is a manifestation of weakness, and therefore of Psora. Sycotics will disregard their bodies’ calls of distress, as they overlook anything that may be construed as weakness.
Eventually, those calls of distress will evolve into a coronary attack or something similar. Which will mean a monumental scare followed by being forced to lie down in the anonymous twilight of the cardiac unit of some hospital, where sycotics will find themselves lonely and melancholy amongst tubes and beeping fluorescent screens, as white- or green-clad shadows silently speed about. Against such a background, many sycotics have no choice but to accept themselves as they are, and finally make peace with their Psora. From Sycosis, patients may progress toward health through Psora, or else descend into Syphilis. The latter is the last easy step down in the patient's progression towards complete self-destruction
The keyword here is ulcer; that is, the festering sore that remains after the sycosic’s mantle of arrogance is blown away, together with the Psora that fills it. A second keyword for the syphilitic miasma would be destruction—ultimately, nothingness. This chronic miasma, if left untreated, ends up destroying the Whole patient. The first thing that vanishes, or is sucked into nothingness if you wish, is the fine system of checks and balances that allows us to live and interact with others and with Nature. We all make blunders. But in a syphilitic, the progressive derangement brought about by the extinction of checks and balances will cause blunders to become more frequent and serious as time goes by. Some of those blunders will be clearly asocial and/or harmful, yet the syphilitic is bound to experience genuine surprise at how society reacts at his behavior. Al Capone, when brought to trial, is recorded as having said “But all I did was to make people happy!" He was reportedly suffering of advanced clinical syphilis at that time. Another thing that soon disappears is the dam that separates our unconscious and conscious minds. As a result, the powerful and embroiled currents of the unconscious flush into the syphilitic’s conscious mind. These currents subvert, disorganize, overthrow and wash away any semblance of coherent ideas and feelings. Consequently, the syphilitic feels desperately frightened and confused. This is particularly at night. The dark, quiet hours when folk rest peacefully are the ones that make the syphilitic suffer the most. There will be no slumber for him or her, no peace at night. No distraction will suffice to lure the syphilitic’s mind away from the roaring chaos alternatively skulking and howling within. The syphilitic will go out and look for noise and entertainment, and so attempt to run away from his or her inner horror. Nightclubs, cabarets and drug alleys are full of syphilitics wanting to drown their inner turmoil and bewilderment. There are syphilitics, though; who will seek refuge in work or any suchlike similar constructive activity, who will say their best time to work is at night. They feel fine at night and can think more clearly—but only as long as they are busy. Their capacity to work is at its peak during the night hours. These patients are unable to rest at night. They choose work instead of noise or drugs to run away from night’s stillness. Doctors should suspect the syphilitic miasma when a patient states that his or her best time to work is at night. By the same token, patients who feel worse at night—or infants who cry and cry all night long—may also be victims of this miasma.
Syphilitics will drug themselves. Sycotics and psorics also do. But psorics drug themselves to anesthetize their anxiety and vulnerability. Sycosics, in turn, will drug themselves to develop a sharper mind, and so deal more successfully with their problems—or else in search of a spurious buttress for their flagging self-aggrandizement. Syphilitics, on the other hand, will abuse drugs in order to gain access to some kind of ephemeral paradise, away from their constant inner swirls of horror—and also as a means to slowly continue destroying themselves. The syphilitic’s self-esteem, like everything else, is in a constant and frantic roller coaster, a gross exaggeration of the ups and downs experienced by psorics and sycotics. Syphilitics will go from feeling omnipotent one moment to imagine they are the scum of the Earth the next.
Eventually, as self-destruction advances, syphilitics may become fixed in one of the two extremes.
Some will delude themselves into believing that they are Napoleon Bonaparte or some other suchlike exalted historical figure, while others may congeal their minds in an extreme self-debasement and -recrimination—and eventually end up committing suicide. Frustration, that occasional and inevitable side effect of interacting with others and with Nature, becomes unbearable for syphilitics. They have as much control of their frustrations as 3-year-old, perhaps less. This state of affairs can lead to fury and fury to violence impossible to control, due to the syphilitic’s lack of checks and balances. There is an impulsive desire/fear of violence and destructiveness that can be triggered by many factors and circumstances. There is a need of hurting themselves and/or others when things don’t go the syphilitics’ way, or else when whatever they may want does not materialize immediately. The consequences of uncontrolled fury and violence can be devastating. Once fury subsides it may bring about a guilt so crushing, and a self-recrimination so brutal, that the patient may well end up killing him or herself on impulse. With this crushing guilt comes awareness of vulnerability. This awareness is infinitely more severe and devastating than that experienced by psorics. In psorics, vulnerability is related to themselves and also to their surroundings; that is, towards elements readily perceivable by the patient.
In syphilitics, instead, vulnerability is the consequence of confronting and helplessly being attracted into nothingness. Nothingness, in turn, is the content of the ulcer that constantly grows, attracts and devours the patient in the same fashion that an astronomical black hole sucks in and devours whole universes.
Humans are totally incapable of even contemplating Nothingness, let alone dealing with it. Syphilitics will attempt to run away from Nothingness, and to project their vulnerability onto surroundings that have substance and existence. They will consequently become extremely frightened and suspicious of everything and everybody, for they will consider their surroundings as a real threat to their existence—like the nothingness they are incapable to face but that nevertheless surrounds and fascinates them. Suspiciousness and distrust will urge syphilitics to destroy whatever they consider as threatening for their survival. The destruction summoned by their suspiciousness unleashes yet another wave of self-destructive nausea, recrimination and guilt—and also an even greater awareness of vulnerability as syphilitics see how easy it is to destroy someone, and therefore how easy it also is to be destroyed themselves. As the syphilitic miasma progresses, memory starts to wane and with it, the awareness of the syphilitic personal identity. The physical organism also shows evidence of this self-destructive process, which seems to have a perverse predilection for the most important and vital organs of the patient. The heart, brain and/or main arteries slowly erode until decay becomes incompatible with mental sanity or with life. At this stage the syphilitic may well die suddenly, or may end up in a mental institution. Or in a Hospital for chronic incurable diseases, or in prison, a death chamber, or an early grave.
The keywords for the Tubercular miasm are restlessness and changeability. As well as their logical consequence, irritability. Tuberculinics are whimsical because, even though they are aware of what they don’t want, they have no idea about what they actually want and need. Nevertheless, tuberculinics are constantly in search of that elusive something they don’t know what it is, but that they somehow know will make them happy. Thus their restlessness, dissatisfaction, capriciousness, changeable moods, constant desires to move and travel, and to change everything and everybody around. Also their episodes of irritability, politely concealed in adults but explosive in children. Tuberculinic children may have long and terrible temper tantrums, as the child lets him or herself fall down on the floor and bang his or her head against it, howling like a banshee and driving everybody around up the walls. These temper tantrums, and the chronic irritability that underlay them, bring about a poor appraisal of reality that continues throughout the tuberculinics’ lives. In children, and aside from the tantrums, their irritability often leads to restlessness. A short attention span may also be present, since these children will often loose interest as soon as they realize that the happiness they seek is not in what they are studying or doing. All of which leads, in turn, to a slowing down of the process of maturation. Irritability and changeability bring about confusion. Which helps explain the tuberculinic’s poor mood after awakening and having to face the day that lies ahead. Irritability and changeability could also be the reason for their pale and haunted features early in the morning.
Music—orderly, harmonious and rhythmical—has a markedly soothing effect in tuberculinic patients. This could be due to the fact that music constitutes an interval of relaxation in their irritable, incessant and constantly thwarted search of happiness. Adult tuberculinics feel compelled to travel. They try to live in different places. Perhaps somewhere, somehow, they will find the contentment that constantly eludes them. If they can’t travel, then they will change, arrange and re-arrange their clothes and the furniture of their abode—anything to alter what they have, anything to make things appear novel and different. The tuberculinic patient has a weak chest, that typically attracts diseases like a magnet—and that, also like a magnet, finds it hard to let them go. These disease-syndromes frequently start in the upper respiratory tract (throat, ears, nose, etc.), generally more than one per winter; and usually end up in pneumonia, pneumonitis or bronchitis, that the tuberculinic may drag for weeks or months, and that may end up becoming chronic. Tuberculinic patients have also a tendency to suffer intermittent fevers, and to feel weak and tired all the time. They may sweat excessively, particularly at night in bed. They often have a delicate constitution and an aura of helplessness, which elicits in others a desire to protect them, particularly if the tuberculinics are children.
The complexion may be pale or waxy in Caucasian tuberculinics. They may have fair hair, circles under their eyes, long lashes and little hair on the tail of their eyebrows. Children tend to have lanugo or fine hair on their backs. Tuberculinics can be very passionate, mercurial and romantic, and are particularly susceptible to catch tuberculosis. The tuberculinic miasma and its offspring, the disease-syndrome tuberculosis, had their heyday in late 19th Century, during the so-called belle époque . At that time to be weak, pale and anemic was stylish in European social, cultural and artistic circles. Women would daily consume large quantities of vinegar with the purpose of destroying their red blood cells and thus appear weak, sickly and anemic. One cut above being pale and anemic was to actually become a tubercular patient. It was considered a most chic and romantic thing. Those unfortunate enough to be healthy would stain their handkerchiefs with red ink. When in company, they would discreetly cough and politely bring the handkerchiefs to their mouths—making certain that the red ink stains were clearly visible. Frédéric Chopin, the famous 19th Century pianist and composer, is the archetypal tuberculinic.
The keyword for Cancerinism is clinging. When we're little, we are dimly aware of our individuality as being part of our parents. As we grow up, we displace our center of gravity from parents and suchlike figures into ourselves. Cancerinics are powerless to bring about such a shift. This inability causes them to cling to someone or something throughout their lives. Cancerinics desperately cling to their job or to their spouses or children, or to their parents, or pets, money, status or position. Or to jewels or valuables, to a house, ranch or some other kind or property. Even to power. Take Neville Chamberlain, for instance. He became Prime Minister of Great Britain in 1937. He was deceived by Hitler, in their 1938 Munich meeting, into believing that there would be “peace in our time”. After Hitler unleashed WW II, Chamberlain was forced to resign in May 1940. He died of cancer six months later, November 9, 1940 (Data obtained from several bibliographical sources. Among them, William Manchester’s “The last lion, 1932-1940”. Little, Brown and Co., Ed. Boston, 1988. Page 513). And Chamberlain was not, by far, the only politician or statesman to develop a malignant solid tumor after power was yanked off his or her grasp.
The above are the main elements cancerinics cling to. They are the only things capable of providing sense and meaning to their lives. The center of gravity of cancerinics, then, never quite shifts to themselves as they grow up into adulthood; rather, it remains on their parents or else is transferred to other things and/or people cancerinics need to attach to. For cancerinics, then, outside things and/or people, precious to them, have more value than the cancerinics themselves. Those things and/or people are the only elements that give sense and meaning to the cancerinics’ lives—in absolute terms. It is either that or nothing. Cancerinics love others more than they love themselves, but only insofar as those others—or those objects or situations—give sense and meaning to their lives. Cancerinics will go to any extreme in order to maintain a status quo of clinging and dependency. Nothing will be allowed to threaten the bond of dependency lest it may be strained, damaged and even perhaps—Goodness forbid!—destroyed. This attitude usually makes the cancerinic very rigid and averse to change.
Cancerinics will go to any extreme, will grovel, will even stunt their own self-development, in order to retain and/or appease the object of their dependency. Which is the reason why cancerinics tend to be so meek, to never complain and to perpetually swallow their anger and their sadness. And all cancerinics ask in return for this abject devotion is the certainty that their subjugation will last forever. This extreme self-debasement sours cancerinics, and makes them feel ensnared. Such a situation of progressive and suffocating entrapment creates a dilemma between remaining dependent and breaking free. The latter leads to fear of forsakenness and its twin byproducts, sadness and resentment. The very hint of forsakenness, in turn, leads to panic and again into dependence. The vicious circle is: dependency/clinging - entrapment - desire for freedom - forsakenness - panic - dependency/clinging again, fostering guilt and confusion. Plus the need to atone, through physical suffering and/or punishment, for the terrible sin of wishing to break free, to become self-reliant. This concatenation of feelings, added to envy towards those who don’t need to cling, provoke still more conflict. It makes the cancerinic impatient and angry. In turn, impatience and anger seriously interfere with the niceness indispensable to be accepted into dependency (“What will the person I so desperately cling to say if he or she learns that I’m angry?” or “Will the object or situation I so desperately need to cling to be taken away/snatched from my grasp if I’m angry?”, followed by the terrifying “What if he or she rejects or forsakes me?” or “What if the object or situation I so desperately need is not mine any more?”) It is small wonder that cancerinics negate any vestige of anger and irritability, and bury those feelings into some dark recess, deep inside. No matter how deeply buried and supposedly forgotten, however, these negative emotions will bear heavily, and quietly grow and gnaw in their secluded abode.
Every once in a while, those hidden feelings will hurl a devastating hint of their existence, which the cancerinic will rapidly repress. In time, anger, impatience and their satellite feelings will seep into, and poison, the entire cancerinic’s life. Cancerinics will carefully avoid every opportunity to enjoy themselves. There is always the lingering possibility that mirth may distract cancerinics from their immediate and constantly reinforced submissiveness to the object so dear to them, and/or from the cancerinic’s quest for security. There is also the possibility that joy may vex fate or bring about bad luck. Again here, the main thing is not to rock the boat. And so cancerinics will go through life dutybound, displaying with pride a stoic smile and a stiff upper lip; finding in their exquisite secret suffering one of their very few satisfactions.
Consider, within this context, a 42 years old extremely rigid cancerinic male suffering from gastric leiomyosarcoma I saw only twice (Leios, smooth, myo, muscle, sarcos, flesh, and oma, tumor. A malignant tumor of non-epithelial tissues; in this instance, a very malignant solid tumor of the stomach muscle wall, quite resistant to every form of treatment). Among other things, he told me he loved to ski, but that he had given it up several years ago, when he married. He was still in good enough shape to re-start skiing if he wanted. Ever since his marriage, though, he had devoted himself, with ferocious single-mindedness, to the sole purpose of providing for his family by means of overworking. I asked him if anybody in his family objected to his skiing. Nobody did. I encouraged him to continue his Allopathic treatment, referred him to a counselor and started Homeopathy and imaging. Both the counselor and I encouraged him to start skiing again. Both of us failed. Our permissiveness, plus the absence of suffering of the Homeopathic/psychological treatment so confused this man that he quitted after the second visit. He went back into continuing Chemotherapy treatment alone. I never saw nor heard about him again.
When Fate mandates that the cancerinics’ patiently braided bond of submission/dependence is to be severed, or when there is even a hint that such a thing may happen, cancerinics become overwhelmed by a sudden uncontrollable surge of shock and panic. The terrible feelings of anger, resentment, sadness, envy, guilt and their satellites, so carefully hidden and repressed that by now are almost totally forgotten, burst forth in all their formidable ripeness. The subsequent stress is unendurable. Some 6 months to 2 years afterwards cancerinics will likely develop a clinically detectable solid malignant tumor somewhere. Allopathic Doctors believe that malignant solid tumors cause the imbalance suffered by cancer patients. Homeopathic Physicians consider that the malignant solid tumor appears as the consequence of activation of the patients’ chronic cancerinic miasma—or, to put it differently, that a malignant tumor appears at the time when the cancerinic patient’s latent cancerinism becomes manifest.
Another feature I have almost invariably found in cancerinics is their inability to adequately react to bacterial infections and the like. How many times have I heard, from the surviving spouse of a cancer patient “You know, Doctor, my husband/wife was always so healthy! This horrible thing came as such a shock to everybody. He or she was never sick, not even one day in his/her life, before being stricken with cancer!” This inability to react when bacteria, fungi or viruses trespass into the patient makes dreadful sense within the context of the cancerinic miasma. Cancerinics will nip in the bud any form of rejection towards other persons, objects or circumstances—even bacteria and viruses—no matter how dangerous. Their immune system, like everything else in the cancerinic’s Wholeness, needs to be meek and nice to outsiders and to please, in order to be accepted and become able to cling. And so cancerinics will accept viruses, bacteria, etc. with their characteristic submissiveness - gratitude - resentment. Consequently, cancerinics will never feel sick because to feel sick is the reaction of the patient’s immune system to any foreign form of invasion. The cancerinic’s immune system is forbidden to recognize pathogenic microorganisms as dangerous, and to fight against them. Like everything else in a cancerinic’s life, bacteria and the like need to be pleased. Therefore, when pathogenic microorganism intrude there will be no reaction of any kind. It is generally accepted that some cells may eventually mutate and become malignant in all of us at some time or another. These cells are recognized as abnormal, and quietly destroyed and disposed of. The cancerinic’s stifled immune system won’t recognize malignant cells as perilous, either.
Those cells will therefore have carte blanche to grow at will, and eventually to metastasize and kill the patient.
These chapters have been taken from Jose Mullens book "Understanding Homeopathy and Integrative Medicine").
José Miguel Mullen graduated from the Medical School of the University of Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Dr. Mullen is licensed as a Medical Doctor and as a Homeopathic Physician in the State of Connecticut. In the State of Arizona, Dr. Mullen is licensed as a Homeopathic Physician or MD (H). In 1987 he came to America with his family.
He is currently devoted full-time to the practice of Homeopathy in Colchester, Connecticut. Dr, Mullen is also Adjunct Faculty of the Desert School of Classical Homeopathy, Phoenix, AZ.