When I moved back to the mainland after my six year homeless venture in Hawaii, things got rough for me again, REALLY rough. After trying to make it work for almost five years on the mainland, with my health in rapid decline, I felt I had to move back to Hawaii to get healthy again. I’ve always been sensitive to chemicals and I felt like I just needed to go back to the clean air and healing environment of the islands. When I am living a pristine lifestyle in a pristine environment, surrounded by loving, supportive people, I am great. When those things are taken away from me, apparently I crumble. But Hawaii had changed, rents were unbelievably high and almost all of the people I knew and loved had moved off of the island. I didn’t have the support there that I used to have, besides, I was embarrassed about my state of health and just wanted to keep to myself anyway. But the serene beaches where I used to find comfort beaches were no longer healing either. They were over run by meth addicts and filled to the brim with loud and messy tourists. It was awful. Then, I lost nearly everything I owned in a natural disaster and I hit rock bottom. Traumatized and in fear of more impending danger, I hopped on a plane and moved back to the mainland to get back on solid ground.

When I left Hawaii the first time, I thought my homeless days were over, but after the natural disaster, I had a second go of it. This time, however, I was not living on a beautiful beach in the ideal healing environment of Kauai. This time, I was struggling to survive on the mainland, having lost most of my things including my car, my clothes, my shoes, just about everything. As my stress levels skyrocketed, my body became incapacitated. I was already severely traumatized by the natural disaster. After enduring a week of sirens, choppers, earthquakes and repeated volcanic eruptions, a music festival invaded the quiet little retreat center I went to stay at after our neighborhood was evacuated. Incredibly loud music was blasting all through the night right next to my cabin and 24 hours later I was toast. I don’t know exactly what happened, or how, but I suddenly lost the ability to even communicate without yelling. Everyone got yelled at, whether they deserved it or not. I had to apologize, yelling, “I’m sorry, I’m not yelling at you, I’m just yelling. I can’t help it.” Scrambling to find solace, I bolted back to the mainland with only 24 hours to gather some things from what was left of my possessions. Once on the mainland, things got even worse. Survival is not so easy when homeless in California during the heat of the summer with wild fires all around me in every direction. I was incredibly unstable, as the sensory overload and my inability to cope had stayed with me after I left Hawaii and I was being tortured every minute of every day with sounds nobody else even seemed to notice. . .cars, planes, dogs, birds, music in the grocery store, music at gas pumps, people talking in restaurants, the espresso machine at coffee shops, the music as I waited on the phone for customer service. . .all of it was torture. I don’t say that word lightly. It was a “shoot me now because I can’t cope” kind of torture. It seemed like all of the healing I had acquired in all of those years living in Hawaii had vanished with the snap of a finger. Just like that, I was right back where I started fifteen years earlier. Actually, I think I was even worse than when I became homeless the first time. My body was shutting down and I found myself blacking out again, having seizures, debilitating anxiety, and severe brain malfunction that threatened my survival in this world. I could no longer speak coherently. I could no longer think clearly. I could no longer take care of myself. I stuttered. I cried and I screamed. . .ALOT! And I lost all of my friends for the second time in my life. I was hanging by a thread and everyone who knew me just walked away. Apparently I’m only likeable when I’m healthy and balanced. Oh well.

At one point, an autistic person recognized some of my symptoms and encouraged me to get tested for autism. I started with online tests and on each one of them scored very high. At the time, I could barely even take care of myself much less work, so I thought I may need to apply for disability benefits and looked into getting an official diagnosis. Well, that’s not an easy task in this world where nobody really understands autism to begin with, much less in adult women. Besides, getting diagnosed costs thousands of dollars and can take years on a waiting list. It’s practically impossible. There just aren’t a lot of options available for adults and even if there were, I didn’t have the money to pay for it anyway. Eventually, after months of trying, I gave up and turned to prayer.

Within days, I was mistakenly invited to be a speaker at the Autism Society Annual Conference. They thought I was someone else and said I came highly recommended. I had never even met the man they said recommended me. Being a speaker got me into the conference for free. The very first person I was introduced to by one of the other speakers was a researcher who was just opening a study for adult autistic females. Before that, they only studied males. Autism presents itself very differently in females and is much harder to detect, so it’s not something that is easily diagnosed. I had already been misdiagnosed multiple times in my life by people who profess to know what they are talking about. But because the study included expensive MRI’s to measure brain activity as well as the effects of aging on the autistic brain, they needed to verify with certainty that I was autistic and were willing to pay for the diagnosis. So, by the grace of God, I got my diagnosis just weeks after I put in my prayer request. I went through what the researcher called the gold standard of testing by a world renowned autism center that specializes in diagnosing adult females. They don’t just diagnose based on symptoms. To qualify for testing, my symptoms were evaluated but the second round of testing took into account perception, thinking patterns, the ability to solve puzzles and to recognize patterns. I tested at the top of the charts. Both the researcher as well as the autism center said they had never seen anyone test so high, male or female. So, apparently autism isn’t something that can be diagnosed by someone who knows someone who’s autistic, and certainly not by the symptoms alone. It’s much more complicated than that. Autism is an internal condition, not an external one that can be recognized outwardly. So, with my new found knowledge of myself, I began to understand some of the challenges I’ve faced in my life. And I also felt hopeless for the first time ever. The researcher said, according to her findings, autism symptoms tend to worsen with age, and that seemed to be the case with me, so there was nothing left for me to do but pray for my own death. This prayer, obviously, was one that did not get answered.

They say that a damaged nervous system can’t be healed, but they are wrong. I healed myself once with infrared light therapy along with a pristine lifestyle, organic food, diet restrictions, and good supportive people in my life. . .but it took years. This time was different. Not only did I not have the money to eat organic anymore, I needed to heal quickly to stay afloat in this world. I was literally hanging by a thread and unable to cope. I searched for reprieve with friends, and one by one, every one of them kicked me while I was down. This time, I only had God. And then I found Lifewave.

I was given four sleeves (each, a 30 day supply) of the X39 stem cell activation patches, so it was a no brainer to use them. I was told they would make my grey hair go back to its original color and would make my skin feel like a baby’s butt, so why not? At first, I didn’t know why my sensory processing disorder dissipated and I could handle the sound of barking dogs again. I didn’t know why I started thinking clearly again. I didn’t know why my body came back into balance and I could cope with stress again. I just kept wearing the patches, not because I saw what they were doing for me, but because I saw what they were doing for everyone else. The woman who introduced them to me was getting younger and younger in front of my eyes. Her grey hair disappeared and the wrinkles on her face were tightening. I had shared the patches with a few people I knew, just a few, because I needed to see that they worked before I endorsed them. Within two weeks, one of the people I shared them with started noticing greatly accelerated hair growth. She had suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm and two fairly significant strokes and her head had been shaved for brain surgery. After the incident, her hair growth was stunted and even two years later she was still having to wear headbands to cover the area that had been shaved. Within two weeks of using X39 she noticed that her hair was growing quickly again, but what really amazed her was her eyelashes. They grew so long, so fast, that people at work started asking her if she got eyelash extensions! Read her story here.

I also shared the patches with my father, who immediately began sleeping again after years of a chronic sleep disorder. Taking melatonin was no longer helping him and his doctor didn’t have any other suggestions. He was using both X39 and Silent Nights melatonin booster. Another person I shared them with healed his prostate in just two months on X39. After his biannual blood draw, his doctor was completely floored. He said in all of his years in medicine he had never seen a prostate heal so quickly, and that was six months after his last blood draw. My friend had only been on the patches for two months, though, so even the doctor was unaware of how fast he actually healed!

So it seemed to me that the patches worked, just not for me. I was spending every penny I had on these patches and still saw no difference in my hair, my skin, or my sleep. Every time I heard about the benefits everyone else was receiving, I got more and more frustrated. I was tired of hearing that they were probably working on something hidden deep inside of me and was about to give up until something led me to the information I needed. Webinars galore on this thing they call the internet. I heard David Schmidt, the scientist who invented the technology, talk about how, with stem cells, nervous system and immune system get repaired first, before anything else in the body. That’s because our bodies know what we need, and nervous system and immune system are crucial to our survival, so they get top priority as far as our bodies are concerned. My nervous system was a disaster, this I already knew. So those little stem cells actually DID know what they were doing! With that, I finally understood why sounds and smells and tactile sensations were no longer unbearable. I finally understood why my body could handle stress again without making me pass out and I finally understood why I could think, and understand, and even learn again. Even the six years I spent on an extremely regimented healing protocol in Hawaii after my traumatic brain injury, didn’t give me back my ability to learn new things. So, the patches WERE working for me! I also understood why 50 pounds of body fat melted away without effort. . .another thing I chose to ignore to convince myself that they weren’t working. I also believe they helped me lose all of the excess weight without any lose skin at all. At the age of 50, I’d say that was a miracle. And yes, that’s how much I gained. . .without making a single change to my diet. My body was being blown up like an oompa loompa for no reason at all and there was NOTHING I could do about it. I know this, because I tried. And tried and tried and tried. For nearly ten years I carried around all of that excess weight, 85 pounds at my highest. When I tried exercising, I gained even more weight as my cortisol levels soared. Cortisol is a stress hormone that causes weight gain, and even the slightest amount of activity was too much for my body to manage without going into extreme stress. At my worst, I couldn’t even handle ten minutes of being up and about without having to rest and I couldn’t even climb a single flight of stairs without having to sleep for up to eight hours afterward. Life was unbearable. I thought it was over for me, I really did. I thought God forgot about me and I was angry. Angry beyond repair. But the patches fixed that too. I’m in tears right now as I type, because I am so incredibly grateful for David and his passion for regenerative science. He healed me with his little invention and my faith in God is once again restored. Why it had to be so difficult, or take so long for me to find my healing, I don’t exactly know, but I trust in God’s design. And I’m back. Thank you, David, and Lifewave, and God. Thank you. ~Deborah Diane

Go to Lifewave product page for product information