candy says…

August 29, 2012

between reading too many articles on the upcoming elections and deepening my ass-groove in the couch cushion, i’ve been getting progressively more depressed. the daily doses of antibiotics have my stomach laid out. i don’t really want to leave the house, owed to fears i’m sure you can imagine. i’m feeling weak, sleeping a lot during the day, and at night, i’m a sweaty mess, tossing and turning in the dark. i feel withdrawn and distant.

today, i’m holding off on my morning infusion. i just want a little bit more time to not feel so feverish or sick to my stomach, a few more moments to feel like there are possibilities in my day beyond letting the dogs out and watching television. this is only my fourth day of this particular treatment, but without any breaks between treatment days, it feels like so much longer.

sunday, the first day of the 3-a-day antibiotic infusions, was an unforeseen hell. in description, it wasn’t so dissimilar to how i’ve been reacting to the abx infusions, but it was as if the volume had been turned up to the max. my muscles were searing from the shivering/convulsing, so much so that i was wailing, desperately hoping that my body would stop moving to give my abdominal muscles, my back and my thighs a break. that break didn’t come for at least an hour after the pleading began. reduced to a heaving pile of complaints, i eeked out angry declarations to my partner that i really was cold, in spite of my normal temperatures. when it dawned on me that if my body wasn’t cold, but it was my mind that was orchestrating that illusion, i started trying to meditate. this task, which i’ve tried before, proves to be unusually difficult when you’re alternating holding your breath and panting miserably. unable to follow my breath, i had to repeat aloud “you’re not cold. you’re not cold. just stop moving. you’re not cold.” this only got my body so far until i started to feel a creeping fever. i ran hot at 102.5 for another few hours. my breaking fever left me lying in a puddled labyrinth of sheets that i was too weak to disentangle myself from.

that was the only time that this particular drug combination hit me that hard. even though i think that sometimes my writing reads as if i’m always dramatically ill, that’s not the reality. what generally happens is that when i either start a new treatment or resume a treatment after having had a break, my reaction is super intense. the treatment days following that first one are less reactive. even though i write about having good days, i think sometimes we, as readers, only take away the most shocking aspects of a story. i know that i’m guilty of doing that, sensationalizing my own experiences. the reality is that i have a lot of painful days. i have a lot of difficult days. i have melancholic days where i’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, be it now or later. i have decent days where i’m able to perform ordinary day-to-day tasks and i have good days where i almost forget that i’m sick at all.

i’m getting closer to having my central venous catheter removed- the end of iv antibiotics for me. i know that i’m getting better, but i’m also realizing that this isn’t the end of the road. i’m having some emotionally difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that i still have a long way to go. when i had my line placed in march, i focused on late fall, the removal of the line, for when i’d be able to resume life where i left off at 18-years-old. psychologically, i needed that false finish line. almost seven months later, i’m letting the knowledge that i have to keep trudging this road sink in. i guess that’s probably the root of my slow growing depression. i want this to be over and it’s not. in japanese we have a phrase, “shikatta ga nai.” it means something to the effect of “it cannot be helped,” and though it sounds a bit fatalistic, it isn’t. it’s an affirmation of any reality, good, bad and in between. that’s where i’m living right now, in a state of knowing that this is just the way it is. and sometimes knowing where you are and where you will be in the immediate future brings a bit of heartache. by next week, i’ll be on a break and welcoming a different mental space. i can take a twinge of heartache. if i can’t, i’ll just try to follow my breath to find my way out of my head.


all by myself.

August 25, 2012

i’m on my own tonight, the last night of my current regiment, and i had to make some battle preparations, just in case. i’ve determined that i’m ready for whatever is going to come next.

over the past two months, i’ve been able to chart a clear pattern to my most recent reactions to the last few cycles of antibiotic infusions. the episode begins just before the bag finishes or just a couple minutes after it’s done. it starts with a slight chill, like the a/c is on just a few degrees too cool. i have somewhere between five and fifteen minutes before the really intense cold hits me. at that point, i start to shiver, sometimes uncontrollably and occasionally pretty violently. my lips turn blue. the blood in my hands and toes recedes. my body acts as if i’m stuck in my car in a minnesota parking lot in february, waiting for someone to rescue me (that happened. it took an hour for someone to come jump my car and it took four days for feeling to return to my fingers). psychologically, i actually feel like i’m waiting to be rescued from freezing temperatures. i continuously ask whomever is around me if they are cold. if so, how cold is it? what’s the temperature? can they look it up? it’s hard for my mind to understand that this severe drop in temperature is only affecting me. generally, my body temperature is in the range of normal while this is all going down, which only confuses me even more. there have been plenty of instances where i’ve run a high fever while feeling like i’ve been left in the arctic circle. but i’ve never had a low-grade fever while experiencing this. my skin feels windburned and hypersensitive. this is a central pain problem, but it worsens with the iv abx.

i tend to have many small seizures, most of which affect the right side of my body. my legs, back and hips stay in perpetual motion. i rub my feet together while pushing and pulling my knees up to my chest. i take clonzepam, a benzodiazepine that, among other uses, can be utilized as an anti-seizure, anticonvulsant and muscle relaxant. it’s often prescribed to treat “restless leg syndrome,” which is a part of what i’m experiencing. its sedative properties help facilitate sleep. without it, i flop around whining, wishing i could just go the f*ck to sleep. it’s generally better if i take the clonzepam before all of this begins, but because i’m incredibly cautious about the amount and frequency of the narcotics i take, i probably don’t utilize preventative medications as much as i should. i tend to wait until it’s so bad that i have to take it as a rescue medication.

i have trouble focusing my eyes. my speech becomes slowed, slurred, or i stutter. it’s difficult for me to get my thoughts past my lips. i end up repeating myself over and over, stuck in a loop that i realize i’m in, but don’t know how to get out of. sometimes my hearing will go out in one ear (the right side, usually), but it comes back after a minute or so. there are stabbing pains in my inner ears that don’t last more than ten seconds, but sear like an icepick. while all of this is happening, i don’t seem to notice that my entire body hurts. from head to toe, muscle to bone, i feel like tenderized meat. even so, i can’t stop wriggling around, trying to practice self-massage on muscles i can hardly help, like my gluteal muscles. it’d be more useful if i could stretch them out, but my body is beyond that kind of self-help by this point. all i can do is poke at things that hurt.

sometimes i have headaches or migraines during this, but more often, i just have shooting pains that rocket through my brain, my eyes and ears. my teeth and jaw ache incredibly. parts of my body i wouldn’t otherwise notice, twinge and rapid fire sos signals to my brain. after a couple of hours, when the meds have really settled in, the episode ends with me collapsing into bed. i sleep for a few hours and then, no matter what time of day or night, i wake up for an hour or two. i go back to bed and when i wake in the morning, i feel like i went surfing the night before or like i was stuffed into a rock tumbler, a creepy attempt at polishing this dirty gem up.

five minutes ago, i finished the second of two antibiotic infusions. already, i’ve put on cashmere pants, wool socks, a heavy batwing sweater i can wrap myself in. i have the heating blanket and a thermometer on deck, a few glasses of lemon water, some coconut water and other “rescue” medications i might need if this progresses. the last iv antibiotic is the tygacil, notorious for causing naseau and vomiting, so i did take some anti-nausea meds beforehand. they’re holding my stomach at bay, but combined with flagyl, an antibiotic, amebicide, and antiprotozoal drug, the gates aren’t heavily fortified. while i recognize its importance, i hate flagyl. i texted my sweet nurse about the sticker that someone at the clinic has on their door that reads: i ❤ flagyl. she responded, “that person is a motherf*cker.” i laughed out loud. i wished she could’ve been sitting on the couch with me instead of all the way across the country. i find myself wishing that a lot. while i don’t necessarily want anyone around me while i’m running to the bathroom (for any number of reasons) or sleeping through the week, i often wish that i had someone to just laugh this all off with. in person. not over the phone. not via text. face-to-face, real laughter about my audible huffing (instead of verbally complaining) or the distinct possibility that i could crap the bed. now that shit, horrifying as it may be, would be hilarious, so long as i had someone here to cosign the hilarity. “you’ll never guess what i did last night…” in this scenario, my partner doesn’t count because, well, he’s not here tonight. though i do think, as a disgusting icebreaker, it would serve wonderfully to help us forget how painful the last few hours were.

my filter is clearly gone. i’m writing about shitting the bed. ack! serious digression. my pain is worse and the shakes are starting. the heating blanket is now on. i’ve got to get off this computer and get moving on the rest of my protocol. after all, this is what i planned for.

you wake up with kelly clarkson’s “since you’ve been gone” floating around your brain. that shit is bad all on it’s own. your head hurts and your body is mad stiff from the infusions you finished a little after midnight. your seasonal allergies have returned and you’ve got to grab a box of kleenex. you find your feet, slip them through a pair of sweats you were wearing last night and head through the house to let the dogs out. you got up too late. one of them has leaked a no. 1 on the floor. no matter, you can clean that up after you take them outside and feed them, but first you sit on the couch with one of them. then you wonder why your pants are wet. did something spill on the couch? nope. you bend over to sniff your own freaking pants and discover that it’s cat piss. so you back track through the house that you wish you had the energy to keep clean and to the spot where you picked up last night’s pants. lo and behold, you’d grabbed them right off of the heating blanket… which is also a pee drenched nightmare. good morning to day four of your 6th treatment cycle. somedays, no matter how rough your body feels, your environment can trump that by being even worse. universe, can we be really clear about what this means, because i’m confused? is this another opportunity push me to let go of my high standards (aka ocd) by existing in such a dirt pile that i have no choice but to succumb to it? or is this your way of saying, “push through your feelings of shittiness and exhaustion and clean your disgusting house?” i don’t know what the message is here. all i know is that i took a shower last night and within nine hours, my leg was coated in one of the most caustic chemicals of all animal warfare- cat pee.

okay, so, that all aside, my life really is piling up before my eyes and i’m both not asking for anyone to lend a hand (“hey, can you drive 60 miles so that i can be super embarrassed about the condemned state of my living room? then maybe after i stop apologizing, you can help me clean? there are two types of animal urine for you to choose from. do you have a preference?”) or creating a manageable system to handle it. i haven’t even made it to the grocery store since i got home. last night, i ate some french bread and chocolate pudding and then sat in the shower throwing it up. why? because i can’t actually eat either of those things. aside from my weekly delivery of organic, raw, blueprint cleanse juices, i’ve been sitting on my couch nibbling mixed nuts and dried fruits. i’m not camping, am i? am i camping in my own house? i mean, i practice “leave no trace” camping and my nasty footprints are all over this place. this can’t be camping. this is just gross.

i’m not the only person in this kind of treatment that’s living in a once great space that’s been converted to a hell hole. i know i’m not. this is one of the concessions that i knew i was going to have to make. when i returned from my adventures and my doctor’s appointment, i jumped right into the next round. i didn’t even have the time to put away all my gear and clothes from my trip. i’m tripping over things that go in the basement, that live in tupperware containers labelled with their names on it, that fall into a system i’ve spent two decades developing. my system has fallen to the wayside, just another thing that i can’t seem to maintain while i’m under the thumb of heavy medications. anyway… i may have used this forum to complain and whine. okay, i did use it for that, but now i’ve got to go find a way to get out from under my trash pile.

it’s after two am. i can’t sleep like this, my heart thundering in my chest and my ribs feeling vulnerably brittle. i feel as if i were to take too deep a breath, i would split my sternum and divide my upper body into separate halves. that’s this particular moment. in the minutes preceding these, i thought that i might suffocate if i didn’t get my socks, the unplugged heating blanket, the sheets and quilt off of me. i threw them to the floor in a grunting panic. how did i get bundled up like a christmas ornament in january? because i was freezing, my lips blue, my fingers wax bean white, my muscles rearing up and refusing to stay still. after infusing iv antiobiotics, i slipped in that all too familiar chill, my eyes twitched and my speech emerged halted, like someone who, after a few hours, had been found in the walk-in freezer at work. we took my temperature and determined it was okay to add in some heat to the scenario. my partner doled out “rescue” medications and listened first to my endless complaining (“i’m cold. i’m cold. i’m so, so cold.”) and then to my meltdown/lash out.

frustrated by my inability to express myself with words, body language, anything that might be telling, i felt as if he should be able to intuit what was happening and how to help. he should be telepathic. he should be psychic. at the very least he should have employed a jedi mind trick, crawled into my mess of a mind and extracted my needs and wants. well, he fell short. he’s no phan thi bich hang, a vietnamese telepath, but then who is? i just wanted help sitting up in bed so i could take a painkiller, but god forbid i actually let the words “help me” slip from tongue to lips. instead, i kept sliding my elbows up and down the bed, knowing that i didn’t have the strength to sit up, but stubbornly continuing to try. when he finally asked if i needed help (mind you, i had just given him a  lecture on not trying to rescue me when i’m struggling), i had already hit the silent treatment phase. i shut him out for a minute, apologized, said i’d practice asking for help, whined some more about my pain and then tried to go to sleep. see opening paragraph for how that sleep went.

my two week break from my treatments came to an end this morning. by the time i was able to get most of my new prescriptions in, it was closer to mid-afternoon. due to the intensity and the short duration of this treatment cycle, i can’t afford to miss a beat or any of the drugs included in this plan. i didn’t get my last medication for this non-stop, two week round until 9:45 pm. one of the pharmacists keeps complaining that she can’t read the scripts and that i should tell my doctor to write more clearly. ha! and i’ve come to discover that i am not the only one she has muttered this to. both my partner and infusion nurse got an earful from her regarding penmanship. is dr. j’s handwriting really the worst she’s ever seen? really? anyway, i took all the new oral meds throughout the day and then hit the iv antibiotics at night. i first infused meropenem (one i’ve used before) and followed up with tygacil (the latest and last of my iv antibiotic trials, which means i’ve now consumed all the meds on the menu, at least once).  tygacil is an antibiotic used to treat bacteria living inside the body. i was warned that it can and does cause vomiting and nausea for most patients, so that was the result i was expecting. instead, i felt nauseated most of the day and after doing the infusions, i went into that herxing mode i’ve been hitting lately. i’ve come to realize that the reactions i have the first time don’t necessarily mean that i’ll have the same results the next day. the only thing i can count on is not being able to count on anything. reassuring, isn’t it? but if i’ve learned anything, i’ve also learned to roll with the punches. what’s that old japanese proverb? fall seven times, stand up eight? by now, i’m way past eight. i’ve been brought to my knees time after time but i manage to find my feet.

for the last couple of doctor’s visits, i’ve come away thinking that we were killing biofilm. i remember dr. j telling me that in every cycle, we’d be hammering and chipping away at the lyme disease, but we’d target other tick-borne illnesses in varied bursts. this time, he was quite specific, informing me that this drug cocktail was created to open it [biofilm] up and then quickly “zip it closed,” killing everything that’s released into the bloodstream. it was my understanding that this biofilm is composed of, not just lyme spirochetes, but also of babesia protozoa and bartonella parasites. it’s a living, growing colony comprised of all the great invaders and, most likely, a number of infectors that i don’t even know that i have. my body is like a clown car for infections. because the immune system cannot penetrate the biofilm, the bacteria are dormant. yeast and protozoa react and are released into the body where they can be killed.

in addition to this first week’s iv antibiotics (mentioned above), i’ll add in an extra dose of meropenem on sunday and start infusing iv cipro on sunday. my medications and dosages change on a daily basis, which is complicated to track. i’ve been totally overwhelmed by the schedule. the rainbow of highlighted drugs and indecipherable shifts in frequency and dose made me want to collapse on the spot or run away. now that my nurse has cleared it all up for me, i’m in the know. i’ve added dapsone in combination with pyrimethamine, a duo that’s used to treat malaria (say hi and bye, babesiosis!).  i am also taking high, high doses of artemisinin, a naturally sourced anti-malarial. we’re using leucovorin, a drug often used to treat cancer patients. it functions by protecting healthy cells (particularly in bone marrow) while still allowing the medications to penetrate the cells. also on the bench are flagyl and diflucan, just waiting to come into play on thursday and friday. since i do pulsed treatments, short, intense bursts of drugs separated by time off, i’m used to having at least the weekend. this time, i am going full-force. i’ll be infusing abx every day next week, also a first for me.

these two weeks scare me. i’m already having some flaring of psychological aspects of these diseases. my fuse is short. i’m intermittently weeping. i’m anxious for no reason and stressed out about things that are way beyond my control. i’m having a bit of a hard time. some of this, a lot of this, is probably due to the fact that i’ve been gone since august 3rd and i didn’t get home until the 18th. i drove over 2,000 miles, 1,100 of those with no airconditioning in 90+ heat. have i mentioned we need a new(er) car? that stresses me out too! with company here last night, today was my first day at the house by myself in weeks. it shouldn’t be surprising that my mental adjustments aren’t lining up the way i’d like them to. by the end of writing this, my stomach is lurching and i have the feeling i’ll be bent over a bucket in a few minutes. i guess that whole nausea/vomiting warning was right. no matter, i have one day down and thirteen to go. however bruised, broken, bloodied and battered my spirit and body are, i can always stand up. one. more. time.

i should be loading up my car, jumping in the shower and then applying a new dressing to my port-a-cath. however, i’ve been (or tried to be) devoted to having share day a few times a week. i feel compelled to say that i’m taking my first two-week holiday from all the drugs that attack the parasitic assholes that live in my body. i am not one of these assholes. i can’t be. i’m not a parasite.

with way too much stuff, i’m going to sail off into the sun to go to the michigan womyn’s music festival, a wonderous place i’ve been working at since the late 90’s. it feels overwhelming to get ready, to ready everything i’ll need for two weeks and to pack the unbelievable quantity of medical supplies i’ll need to survive that time. i’m anticipating doing a dressing change everyday. do you know just how bulky all that is? then i’ve got a box of lactated ringer’s and all items necessary to facilitate using that, like a cane and iv tubing. oh, and i can’t forget the endless bottles of pills and trays of carefully doled out meds. i feel bad for the women working for the Disabled Access Resource Team (dart). luckily, they’re going to do the heavy lifting and get it all to my tent. i’m so grateful for all the resources available to me while in the woods. and the best part of it all is that i’m going to have my sweet nurse next-door to me the whole time (best part being her, not just her exquisite nursing skills).

okay, so i’m scared. there’s a lot to consider, to monitor, to feel as i’m not able to pull my weight in the ways that i have in the past. i’m worried about the drive and the fact that i go straight from there to dr. j’s office. i don’t have time on either side to rest. but i’m also really, really excited to go, to teach, to listen, to laugh, to love, to give support and feel supported, to be a part of a city built by women, if only for one week a year.

and with that, i’ve got to go!

i’ll see you in a couple of weeks, at which point i will respond to emails and comments. thanks for reading this. really, i have so much gratitude for you.




+Please be very careful about detoxing. You don’t want to go to quickly, shocking your system and making your symptoms unbearable. The following suggestions are the detox protocol I’ve developed for myself. There’s no particular order to them. Also, for the first time ever, I’ve used capitalization. I’ll have you know, that’s only because I wrote this for a workshop I am teaching on Lyme and other tick-borne illnesses.

 1)     WATER!! Add fresh lemon to your water. Drink more water than you ever have before.

 2)     Drink green tea. It’s an antioxidant that will help move toxins out while supporting health body functions by reducing damage caused by free radicals. If you’re a coffee drinker, you might consider making the switch.

 3)     Take Epsom salt baths (using lukewarm water….). It is suggested that you drink lots of room temperature water (a full gallon is the recommendation). The bath will help to draw the toxins out of your body. The drinking water helps to open your pores, creating osmosis, so you can excrete more of the toxic burden (dead spirochetes and protozoa).

 4)     If you have access to an infrared sauna, spend short periods of time in it. Fifteen to twenty minutes should do the job. Some spas have these. Check to see if any in your area do.

 5)     Take chlorella!! Dr. Mercola’s website offers a three pack of organic, responsibly harvested chlorella. Mercola also offers three packs of spirulina, which supports the body and is, in general, really good for you. Pretty much all types of sea vegetables and seaweed are healthy detoxification foods.

 6)     Eat apple pectin. You can cut an apple and let it rest until the surface browns or purchase dried apple rings from your health food stores bulk section.

 7)     Try skin brushing before you shower. Brush in a circular motion. This can be a bit painful, especially if you’re having central pain (pain that affects your skin, how you perceive touch, etc.). Just go easy at first. Your skin will get used to it. We excrete toxins through our skin (our largest organ). Brushing helps to remove the dead skin cells, removing toxins so that your body does not reabsorb them.

8)     Shower! Finish your morning shower by alternating between water temperatures as hot and cold as you can stand. The technique increases circulation, which in turn flushes the lymphatic system.

 9)     Take footbaths with Epsom salts. You can also add hydrogen peroxide to the water. Due to decreased or poor circulation in the legs and feet, dead spirochetes tend to pool there. The foot bath helps draw them out. After the bath, scrub your feet to get all dead skin off.

 10)   Take a product like the Allergy Research Group’s GastroCleanse. This contains psyllium husks, small amounts of charcoal, apple pectin and probiotics- all ingredients that cleanse the body. This is available It isn’t very expensive, about $8 a bottle. Do not use the recommended dose if you are treating your tick-borne illness. A cleanse at that point may be too hard on your system. I take 2 capsules two times a day. If my herxheimer-reaction (the body’s response to the release of toxins into the bloodstream, also known as a healing crisis) is not too bad, I add a couple more capsules to my daily intake.

 11)   Charcoal, which is a very potent detoxifier, can be used in small doses for extreme herxing (abbreviation of jarisch-herxheimer reaction).

 12)   Eat lots and lots of organic greens and veggies. While taking intravenous and oral antibiotics, I’ve found that the roughage can be too hard on my stomach, so I juice vegetables every morning.

13)   Eat lots of fiber. The majority of unwanted substances in the body are excreted through bowel movements. You can use something like a fiber powder that you mix with water or just eat grains like amaranth and quinoa (which are super foods and really good for you anyway).

14)   Try to eliminate sugar, gluten and dairy from your diet. This is a hard step, I know. These are/ can be inflammatory and any inflammation will impede the healing process.

 15)   Manage your pain the best that you can. The more pain you’re in, the harder your body has to work to heal itself.

16)   REST!! Restorative sleep is, perhaps, the best thing that you can do for your body. While undergoing heavy detoxification of the body, you might find yourself more tired than usual. Listen to your body and lie down, take it easy and don’t push yourself.

 17)   If your body will allow it, exercise. Being active stimulates your system, causes you to sweat which moves waste out of your body. Be sure to rinse off or shower after so the toxins don’t get reabsorbed.

 18)   Sit out in the sun for a little while. This helps to relax muscles, gives you the vital vitamin D you need and aids in circulation. There are number of benefits from sunbathing for short periods of time

19)  Infuse lactated ringer’s solution if you have a picc or a port.



+this in not a list that i developed. i stole it from some health magazine or something. writing faux pas- not giving credit where credit is due.

1. Fruits: Fruits are high in liquid-content, helping the body wash out toxins. They are also very easy to digest and are high in antioxidants, nutrients, fiber and important vitamins.

 2. Green Foods: Fill your refrigerator with blue green algae, barley, wheatgrass, kale, spinach, spirulina, alfalfa, chard, arugula or other organic leafy greens. These plants will help give a chlorophyll-boost to your digestive tract. Chlorophyll rids the body of harmful environmental toxins from smog, heavy metals, herbicides, cleaning products and pesticides. They also aid the liver in detoxification.

 3. Lemons, Oranges, and Limes: Citrus fruit aids the body in flushing out toxins and jump-starts the digestive tract with enzymatic processes. Lemon juice aids the liver in its cleansing processes. To increase detoxification, start each morning with a warm glass of lemon water.Remember, vitamin C is one of the best detox vitamins around, as it transforms toxins into digestible material. Eat vitamin c foods often to help get more of these benefits.

 4. Garlic: This pungent little bulb is one of the best detoxing foods out there. It helps stimulate the liver into producing detoxification enzymes that help filter toxic residues from the digestive system. I recommend adding sliced or cooked garlic to a suitable dish, as this will help aid any detox diet.

 5. Broccoli Sprouts: Extremely high in antioxidants, the ability for broccoli sprouts to stimulate the detoxification enzymes in the digestive tract is unparalleled. The sprouts are actually more effective than the fully-grown vegetable.

 6. Green Tea: Packed full of antioxidants, green tea washes toxins from the system via its liquid content, but also contains a special type of antioxidant called catechins, which are known to increase liver function.

 7. Mung Beans: The mighty mung bean has been used by Ayurvedic doctors for thousands of years. It is incredibly easy to digest, and absorbs toxic residue on the sides of the intestinal walls.

 8. Raw Vegetables: Best for juicing or eaten raw: Onions, carrots, artichokes, asparagus, broccoli, cabbage, kale, brussel sprouts, cauliflower, garlic, beet, turmeric, and oregano. The combination of these foods will help your liver purge toxins during the cleansing process. These are high in naturally occurring sulphur and glutathione. Sulphur helps the liver detoxify harmful chemicals.

 9. Seeds and Nuts: Incorporate more of the easily digestible seeds and nuts into your diet. Flax seed, pumpkin seeds, almonds, walnuts, hemp seeds, sesame seeds, chia seeds, Siberian cedar nuts and sunflower seeds are all excellent options. While detoxing, avoid nut butters.

 10. Omega-3 Oils: Use hemp, avocado, olive oils or flax seed oil while detoxing. This will help lubricate the intestinal walls, allowing the toxins to be absorbed by the oil, and eliminated by the body.