Max's Story --- A Carcinosin Cure (Homeopathy & Autism)

[Sheri Nakken]

http://www.renresearch.com/autism.html

© 1997 -- Amy L. Lansky, PhD. Renaissance Research. Portola Valley,
California.

Max's Story --- A Carcinosin Cure

Amy L. Lansky, PhD

Renaissance Research
lansky@renresearch.com
http://www.renresearch.com

Note to readers: A book about this story and about homeopathy in general
will be published in the spring of 2003. To find out more, visit:
www.impossiblecure.com

Most homeopaths come to this great art of healing because of some
"conversion" experience. Typically, some miracle -- large or small -- has
alerted them to the mystery and monumental nature of Hahnemann's discovery.
In my own case, my younger son Max was cured of an "incurable" condition:
mild autism. He began treatment at age 3.5. A year later, none but the most
discerning would suspect that he had had any kind of problem at all.
Obviously, this miracle changed the entire dynamic and potential future of
my family. It also propelled me to alter my career course and devote myself
to the study and promotion of homeopathy.

Max's story is an interesting and unusual one for several reasons. First,
we were incredibly blessed that our family homeopath found the correct
remedy on the first try: Carcinosin. This remedy was his similimum if there
ever was one. Fitting him like a glove, he has suffered from barely any
aggravation in the two and a half years he has been on and off this remedy.
The posology chosen for Max was similarly fitting -- the LM dose. Over the
course of his treatment, he has shown well-defined patterns of response to
this approach. One of the reasons I decided to write this article is to
provide further enlightenment to the homeopathic community about the nature
and merits of this less-well-known but increasingly important remedy. The
same can be said of this method of dosing -- less commonly used and
understood, the LM dose is surely on its way to prominence for deep chronic
cases.

Since Max's story is long and involved, the best way to tell it is
chronologically. I have decided to also include details about other
treatments we tried and changes we made in educational environment and
family dynamic. All of these factors had an impact on Max. They may thus
provide useful information for homeopaths and other families dealing with
childhood behavioral problems. At the end of his story I will conclude with
my own personal observations about the essence of Carcinosin, a summary of
his symptoms, and brief discussions about LM dosing and the treatment of
behavioral conditions in children.

Background.

My husband, Steven Rubin, and I both have doctorates in computer science
and have worked in various research laboratories in the Palo Alto area for
many years. We are also both semi-professional musicians and have sung in
several local rock bands. Our first son, Izaak, was born in 1988. A
precocious child, Izaak has always been extremely verbal, mature, and
intellectually inclined. My husband and I have always made our kids our
first priority, each of us working shortened four-day weeks. Before they
attended school, we each spent a full "work" day at home with the kids. The
other three days, we typically had a nanny come to our house. We now use
childcare three days a week.

As far as medical background, Steve's family has a strong history of cancer
on both sides of his family (many cousins, aunts, grandparents, etc.) His
father is mildly diabetic and his brother has adult-onset Type 1
(insulin-taking) diabetes. This coupling of cancer with diabetes is a
characteristic miasmatic background for Carcinosin. In my case, there is a
strong history of heart disease on both sides of the family. My father died
of a heart attack at age 71 and before that suffered from gout. My mother,
still living, nearly died of rheumatic fever at age 10 and has suffered
from heart problems since. As per common practice at one time, she took
daily doses of antibiotics for many years. My brother is schizophrenic and
there is other evidence of mental illness in my father's family.

Steve and I are both physically healthy and now much more
emotionally-healthy after a year or so of consitutional homeopathy for
ourselves! We both had bouts of mononucleosis in college. Both of us also
suffered from appendicitis and tonsillitis.

Beginnings.

Max was born in July 1991. A planned pregnancy, there was still some
uncertainty on my own part about whether I wanted a second child. However,
once he was there inside me, I was extremely happy to have him. The
pregnancy was uneventful except for a CVS test at 11 weeks (chorionic
villus sampling -- an early alternative to amniocentesis) and an ultrasound
at 20 weeks. In the last three months of my pregnancy I sought out a
midwife to help me achieve a successful vaginal birth; my first son had
been a C-section delivery after the classic medical fiasco of
induction/failure-to-progress. The goal of a VBAC birth (vaginal birth
after caesarean) was a central focus for me during the last trimester of my
pregnancy with Max.

I was successful. After 28 hours of labor (including epidural, pitocin, and
one hour of pushing), Max was born without complication. However, after the
standard application of antibiotic ointment to his eyes, he developed a
skin rash on his face. I remember the flurry of pediatricians checking him
out. The rash disappeared in a few hours, but I realize now that it
foretold of his innate sensitivity.

Max's first month of life began normally. He breast-fed well, was
circumcised at eight days in Jewish ceremonial fashion, and was of good
size and weight. However, within a couple weeks, he began to vomit up the
milk he took in. The vomiting increased in severity each day. By the time
he was nearly four weeks old, he had begun to lose weight. Finally, he was
brought in for pyloric stenosis surgery at 28 days. Interestingly, we were
not surprised by this turn of events. Max was the third-generation child
with this condition in Steve's family. Steve had the same surgery (also at
28 days!), and his mother's twin sister died from this now-routine procedure.

Though Max and the rest of us went through a bit of hell with his surgery,
he quickly recovered and showed no signs of problems for the next two
years. He received all the standard immunizations on schedule and was
average in height, weight, and motor development. In general, he has always
tended to be thin, muscular, and coordinated. However, by age two, he was
still not speaking. He knew the entire alphabet, could count to twenty, and
could stack blocks like nobody's business, but he did not know more than
about 10 words. Temperamentally, he was friendly and cheerful, but also
showed a kind of detachment. He was less cuddly than his brother Izaak and
was content to play on his own and watch TV, not seeking to be the center
of attention. At the time, I thought he was merely late to talk, mature,
and self-contained. One unusual characteristic was his attachment to his
milk bottle; it was his "lovie". He wanted a "baba" so often that it was
not unusual for him to drink 8 bottles (a half gallon!) of milk in a day.

On the physical plane, Max has always been fair-skinned, with straight dark
brown hair and very large beautiful brown eyes. (The characteristic
Carcinosin moles and blue sclerotics did not really "bloom" until after he
was on the remedy). Other general symptoms already present as a baby and
toddler included early eruption of teeth (at five months, four teeth
erupted at the same time) and a hairy back, neck, and legs. On the front
top of this skull, he has a slight ridge, as if his skull fused in a
strange fashion on the midline suture. He also has two other birth
"defects": a partially formed anorectal fistula -- a very deep indentation
above the anus that does not, however, penetrate into the rectum; and a
partially formed third nipple on the right side of his chest -- a short
horizontal crease. On his neck and groin, Max has always had a couple of
enlarged lymph nodules. And even as a baby, he sweated profusely when
sleeping. His hair would be drenched when waking in the morning or from a
nap. His favored sleep position was on his back with his hands over the top
of his head (this preferred sleep position has diminished since being on
the remedy). Though not the stereotypical Carcinosin genupectoral position,
this alternate position has been mentioned in several references on
Carcinosin and, in my opinion, should be given added weight in the materia
medica.

Besides his early love for cow's milk, Max has also always had a strong
desire for salt as well as a liking of fatty/spicy and sour foods. As a
toddler he would willingly eat spicy dishes and suck on lemons. Though he
rejects spicy foods now, he still covets salt and will even resort to
shaking the salt shaker into his mouth! As a young child, he loved fatty
meats (no longer), enjoyed sucking on ice cubes, and enjoyed chocolate (he
now prefers vanilla ice cream over chocolate!) . All of these cravings are
characteristic of Carcinosin.

Finally, though he did not crave to eat eggs, he did have an usual
relationship to them -- an almost fetish-like interest in them. He would
point to them in the refrigerator and would try to get them out. At about
two and half years old, he actually got a whole dozen raw eggs out of the
refrigerator, carried them to his brother's room and gleefully smashed them
all into the carpetting! Our nanny found him playing happily in the mess,
saying "Eggs! Eggs!" (We later had to have the entire flooring replaced!)
Even now, at age 6, Max enjoys playing with egg-related things -- e.g.
Easter eggs. For many years, he has also asked to play an egg-related game
with me, of his own creation. He hides under the covers, scrunched up into
an "egg"-shape (the chick in the egg), I sit on him and hatch him, and he
pops out!

The Autism Picture Emerges.

Though non-verbal, Max was a happy toddler. It was not until he began in
preschool that his problems began to crystallize. When he was two, we
enrolled him in a 2-day/week 2-hour preschool program. At about this time,
our nanny suddenly left without notice to tend to her mother dying of
cancer. Our new nanny was kind but, in retrospect, detached emotionally and
probably did not engage with Max very much.

Max was initially joyful in his preschool program. His teacher remarked
upon his "joie de vivre". However, he did not settle in and relied on his
"baba" for comfort. Among the behaviors that emerged at school were the
following: he could not sit at circle-time unless held in someone's lap; he
would tend to wander off to other places in the classroom or to other
classrooms; lowered eye contact; self-stimulation activities such as
spinning; and unresponsiveness to questions. At the same time, he clearly
showed signs of great intelligence. If he was engaged in something that
interested him, he could sit for very long stretches with intense
concentration. He could build complex structures with amazing skills of
symmetry and balance; he also showed sophisticated strategic and dexterity
skills at computer games. At age 2.5, when our usual nanny was gone for a
month and a far more engaging replacement nanny stepped in, Max finally
began to talk more. It was single words, but it was a start.

At this point, Max was still a happy child at home. However, it became
increasingly clear that this was not the case at school. I myself began to
sense the teaching staff's judgement of him. Some of the teachers did not
greet him in the morning with a welcoming tone. I also sensed that Max was
keenly aware of their attitude and that it was harming him. Eventually, the
teachers began to drop hints that something was wrong with Max. At the
time, I suspected they were thinking it was autism, but I convinced myself
that Max's problem was ADD. At home, he had become increasingly antsy.
Though he did not run about the house, he could not sit still. He would
fidget, as if an engine were running inside him. He could not sit quietly
and let me read a story to him. Instead, he would squirm all over the bed
-- he would even stand on his head, with his feet against the wall. He
would run his fingers up and down things, the table, the wall. He also
developed a habit of repeatedly poking or stabbing his finger against
people's chest -- not to hurt them, but a kind of nervous poking contact.
Sometimes he would also butt his head against them. This kind of "poking"
contact is characteristic of autistic children. It is also mentioned in
Hoa's article on Carcinosin that appeared in the British Homoeopathic
Journal in July 1963:

"... I have noticed that Carcinosin often has bizarre tics; one of my
patients constantly tapped his brothers' skulls with his fingertips;
another used to gently bite the tips of children's fingers, one after the
other; he had not lost this habit at the age of 40."

I myself had the sense that something in Max was bursting to get out --
trying to make contact.

As Max approached his third birthday, I knew that something was truly
wrong. The teachers at his school called us into conference and suggested
we get professional help. I was on a mission. On the advice of a speech
therapist friend, we opted against having Max tested at a
highly-medicalized child development center attached to the university.
Instead, we took him to see a respected speech and language therapist, a
woman considered to be the best in the Palo Alto area, Donna Dagenais.
Donna did not label Max as autistic or as anything at all -- she merely
began working with him. In addition to his private therapy sessions, she
also placed him into a group session with two other children -- one who had
been diagnosed as PDD (mild autism) and the other with a severe
fear-related disorder. Of the three, Max was the best behaved but the least
verbal.

At this time and after much soul searching, we instituted several other
changes, all of which had a beneficial effect on Max. First, we took him
off of cow's milk. I had read about milk being suspect in cases of
hyperactivity and naturally was concerned, given his intense predilection
for it. Max went from nearly a half gallon of cow's milk down to one cup of
goat's milk per day. This step alone had a dramatic effect. Before it had
seemed that Max was behind a curtain; now, the first veil lifted. He began
to talk more. At age three, he finally built two-to-three word sentences.
He was clearly more "present" than before. At this time, we also made a
modest effort to eliminate food coloring from his diet.

Next, we closely examined our family dynamic and other social factors. On
Donna's advice I decided to take him out of the school facility he was in
(which was highly socially-oriented) and place him into a Montessori
school. The one I chose was extremely structured and focused on reading,
writing, and mathematical skills -- things that Max himself was interested
in. Though he could not talk well, he LOVED letters and numbers. Next, our
"disengaged" nanny totally disengaged -- she left town and we got a new
nanny who was extremely sweet and loving towards Max. We also made sure
that this nanny would focus a bit more on Max than on his highly verbal and
precocious brother.

Finally, and most importantly, we examined ourselves. We realized that we
had to make a concerted effort to spend more concentrated focussed time
with Max. We decided to take turns, each of us spending intensive time with
one child or the other. We tried to teach Izaak to "share the limelight"
with his brother. We also closely examined our own attitudes. I recognized
in myself feelings of rejection towards Max in his current state. I clearly
saw that I had to learn to accept him unconditionally as he was; I
instinctively knew this was critical for his recovery. This was later
confirmed upon reading "Son Rise: The Miracle Continues", Barry Neil
Kaufman's book about his own son's amazing recovery from very severe
autism. The Kaufmans developed a strategy for their son based on what might
be called healing intentionality -- unconditional love and acceptance and
an intense focus and connectedness with the child. I highly recommend this
book to any parent. Because of the Kaufman's work and my experience with my
own children, I have grown to believe that a positive accepting attitude
towards a child can be the single most powerful force in their development
and cure.

In the fall of 1994, Max continued with his speech and language therapy
and, after testing, qualified for special education benefits. He also
entered his new Montessori school, where he was much happier and better
accepted by the teaching staff. Allowed to work completely on his own (as
per Montessori doctrine), he was content to sit quietly working on his
numbers, letters, and puzzles. The teachers felt he was bright and merely a
quiet child. I knew that he was NOT inherently quiet, just non-verbal and
socially unskilled because of it!

Max continued to make slow and steady progress in his speech therapy.
However, the sense of internal "energy" remained. He still could not answer
questions except about objects directly in front of him. For example, he
could answer literal questions ("What color is this?") but not abstract
questions ("What color do you like?"). He also had another characteristic
autistic symptom: echolalia. Rather than answer a question, he would merely
repeat the last few words the other person had said. This was remarkably
effective for him in some cases! ("Is this blue or red?" "Red") Even now,
he still resorts to some echolalia and disengages some days, when he is
tired or feeling out of sorts.

Introduction to Homeopathy.

In January 1995, I was curling up in bed with the latest issue of
Mothering, a counter-culture parenting magazine. In it, I ran across an
article by Judyth Reichenberg-Ullman about homeopathy for childhood
behavioral problems. I will never forget the moment I finished reading it.
A bell went off and I knew something important had happened. "Read this!" I
said to Steve. Although I had read Deepak Chopra's books, knew a bit about
ayurveda, and practiced qi gong and tai chi, I knew almost nothing about
homeopathy. Like most people, I thought it was some kind of herbal medicine
and I had occasionally popped a Boiron mixed remedy for colds. I didn't
have the bias against the potentized dose because I didn't even know about it!

The next day I called an acupuncturist friend of mine, and she referred me
to John Melnychuk, a professional homeopath new to the Palo Alto area. We
quickly got an appointment and went with high hopes and expectations.

John is now one of my closest friends and my mentor in homeopathy. (I am
also finishing up the foundation course of Misha Norland's Devon School and
studying with Simon Taffler in San Francisco). Recently, John told me that
he was stumped when Steve, Max and I walked out of his office that day in
January. In addition to Max's intense craving, yet aggravation, from milk,
what led him to choose Carcinosin was a rubric with a single remedy in it:

Talented, very: Carc.

Apparently, I had mentioned 10 times in the interview that Max was
talented! Perhaps I was an overly proud Jewish mother who was defensive of
her "special needs" child, but I was quite certain of his innate talents
(which are now much more evident). First of all, he showed amazing
strategic skills at computer games and for things visual in general. For
example, at age three he could play "Concentration"-style matching games
(where you have to find matching pairs of pictures in a grid of 25 hidden
tiles), and he could play it better than Steve or I. Now we suspect he has
a photographic memory. Max also showed an uncanny musical, dancing, and
acting ability. He had (still has) a perfect sense of rhythm. He could
watch things on TV and perfectly imitate nuances in various characters'
behavior and mannerisms. He would memorize dance routines he saw and dance
for us. These skills foretold his current talents in performance, singing,
and precision in things artistic.

Looking through John's notes from our first interview with Max, a few other
symptoms were highlighted. One was his desire to do things by himself -- an
innate stubborness, which he still has. This, of course, is coupled with
his desire for perfection and precision. During the interview, he got very
upset because he didn't successfully write "Mom" on a piece of paper the
way he wanted to. Several other signs of his internal energy and
restlessness also came out in the interview: difficulty falling asleep at
night (which I also have), a habit of twirling and pulling on his hair --
to the point of pulling some hair out! (a habit now long gone), teeth
grinding, fearlessness, and impulsivity. On outings we had to keep a close
rein on him; he would think nothing of simply running off gleefully without
looking back. When he was two, a neighbor found him running down the
street, singing happily. He had gotten out the back screen-door and off he
went!

Max has also always possessed a strong sexual energy, an important feature
of Carcinosin. He enjoyed masturbating, taking his clothes off, and running
around the house naked. Jokester that he is, he still has a particular
fondness for "mooning" people! (Thankfully, he only does this at home!)
Although he was fairly distant before the remedy, he now is extremely
affectionate and even passionate. He enjoys a light caress on his back
rather than strong back rub. These and other general symptoms are
summarized at the end of this paper.

At the end of John's case notes for that first interview in January 1995,
his choice of Carcinosin was underscored by the following symptoms:

- Desires milk which aggravates
- Dancing
- Very talented
- Head, hot on waking
- Hyperactivity

He also considered some of the other nosodes: Syph, Med, and Tub. He
suggested starting with a daily dose of Carcinosin LM1. The following
recounts Max's amazing road to recovery.

Initial Changes.

Max began taking the remedy on a Thursday. We always gave him his dose in
the morning, at least fifteen minutes after eating or drinking anything --
usually just before we left the house for school. We followed a typical
LM-dose methodology: we would succuss the bottle 10 times and use a single
dilution cup. By the first weekend on the remedy (about two days later),
Steve and I began to notice some changes. Max was using some phrases he had
never used before and was displaying slightly more social awareness. It was
subtle, but something had definitely changed. In addition, Max's speech had
always been (and is still somewhat) "cogwheel" or staccato in nature -- as
if he had to think about each word he said. That weekend we noticed that
his speech was a bit more fluid than usual. Over time, speech and
social-awareness changes have become Max's "earmark" for improvement on
Carcinosin.

The following Tuesday (five days later) Max had a session with his
therapist Donna. She noticed something had definitely changed . "What did
you do?" she asked me. One of Max's exercises was to try to follow a list
of instructions. For example, "Put the ball on the red chair and bring the
green block to me". Prior to this, he had only been able to follow a single
command, rarely two. This day he was suddenly able to perform two commands
consistently, and even three commands in succession!

This trend continued. Each day we saw slightly more improvement. When Steve
and I gave Max his daily dose, we tried to imbue it with added love and
intentionality -- a teaspoon of Carcinosin mixed with healing thoughts. As
time went by and we went through successive bottles of remedy, progressing
from LM1 to LM2, etc. and changing dose about once a month, we began to see
a definite pattern of improvement and degradation. First, at the beginning
of a new bottle, Max would show some increased signs of hyperactivity.
These aggravations were not extreme but were noticeable to myself and
Donna. This period would usually last 3-5 days, at most a week. It was
followed by a sudden jump in verbal, cognitive, and social ability -- a
discrete step upwards. At this point, the hyperactivity would also tone
down. Max would become more contained and relaxed within himself. This was
followed by a period of continued gradual improvement for about two weeks.
About the last week or so of each month, as we neared the end of a bottle,
we would begin to see a gradual slipping backwards. Donna and I used to
call it "end-of-the-bottle behavior." This heralded the need to continue on
to the next dosage level.

It is interesting to note that besides Steve, John, and myself, our nanny
and Donna are the only two adults who really believe, without a doubt, that
the remedy is what changed Max. We are the only adults who saw him on a
daily basis and saw the direct correspondence between changes of dose and
improvements in behavior. To this day, Max's grandparents and our friends
remark -- "Oh, perhaps he was just late to develop." However, Donna, who is
extremely experienced with children's behavioral and language difficulties,
has repeatedly assured me that this was not the case for Max. When he was
clearly back on track, after a year of taking the remedy, she confided to
me that he had been autistic. She told me that she has seen autistic kids
improve, but never become "not autistic" like Max had. Our pediatrician
made the same confession to me. Donna was so convinced that it was the
homeopathy that did the trick for Max that she stated this fact to the head
of county social services the day I signed papers releasing Max from
eligibility for special education.

A Single Blind Test.

Being the scientists that we are, Steve and I, of course, had our own
initial skepticism about the whole affair. Was it the remedy that was
changing Max? Was it our own expectations and attitude? We decided to
conduct a simple test. For two weeks, I would make daily observations about
Max's behavior. Steve would give Max his morning dose, changing from one
dosage level to the next at a time unknown to me. The bottle would be
hidden so that I could not see what dose he was taking. Truthfully, I
expected Steve to change doses fairly early on in the two week period. Each
day I made my observations in a notebook. I strained to see some shift in
Max, but could see none. However, the second to last day of the experiment
it happened. I noticed a sudden improvement in his speech. And, indeed,
this occurred three days after Steve had changed the dose!

Osteopathy.

Six months after starting on Carcinosin, Max continued to improve in
speech, cognition, and social awareness. However, much of the inner
restlessness and social distance remained. At age four, I took Max to see a
traditional osteopath on John's recommendation. Max had a course of three
treatments in a single month, followed by a treatment about once a month
for several months. Even now, two years later, I take him for a treatment
about once every three to four months. Our osteopath, Mark Rosen, found
that Max had signs of cranial compression. Indeed, he felt that this
compression was probably related to Max's pyloric stenosis as well.

While the homeopathic remedy had its primary affect on Max's language
production and comprehension and social awareness, it was the osteopathy
that created the first major effect on his "internal engine" and desire for
physical affection. The night after his first osteopathic treatment, Max
crawled into my lap and said, "Mommy, sing me rock-a-bye baby." This was
the first time he had directly asked me for this kind of physical loving
affection. Although he did not usually push me away, he never really craved
this kind of contact. From this point onward, Max did. He is now extremely
affectionate and likes to crawl into bed with me in the morning or at
bedtime and snuggle. He sometimes even cries if he does not get enough hugs
and kisses when my husband, Izaak, or I leave the house. What a change from
the distant "self-contained" Max!

Joining the Crowd.

At age 4.25, after having been on the remedy for nine months, Max began his
second year at the Montessori school. At this point, his speech had
definitely become more complex, spontaneous, and fluid. Donna tested him
and found he was approaching age level. We discontinued our biweekly
sessions, but he remained "on the books" as far as eligibility for special
education.

Now that Max was talking, he was also trying to "join the crowd" socially.
However, having started so late, he was awkward in these initial attempts.
He was stubborn and he cried too easily when he didn't get his way. To get
attention he often resorted to excessive "toilet talk". Of course, as a
parent, I was thrilled that Max was beginning to reach out. But the school
was not as supportive. They had pegged Max as a "quiet" child and were not
thrilled to see the real Max emerge. They gave him no support in making the
awkward transition towards social acceptance and savvy. One of this
teachers even said to me: "Max was such a nice boy before. Can you put him
back the way he was?"

Although it was awkward to change schools in the middle of the year and to
cope with his teachers' lack of support, I had learned from my experiences
the year before that not changing to meet Max's needs would stall his
progress. It was clearly time to make some changes on the school front.

At this point we were also having some nanny difficulties, with two nannies
coming and going in quick succession. Max was also beginning to be
aggravated more than helped by the remedy. He was consistently more
hyperactive and revved up. It took us a few months to realize that it was
indeed time to decrease the dosage frequency and eventually stop the daily
dose. Now I am more tuned into his subtle changes and know when it's time
to stop and start the remedy. When I consistently feel like I WANT to give
Max the remedy, it's time to start. When I consistently feel like I DON'T
want to give him the remedy, it's time to stop.

Thus, at age 4.5, in the middle of the school year, we again made several
adjustments to meet Max's own need for growth and change. First, we found a
new school for Max -- an excellent socially-oriented school that followed
the Montessori-style but not as strictly. His new teachers had no
preconceptions or biases towards Max, and helped him adjust socially.

Next we stopped using nannies, opting instead for after-school childcare
three days per week. This change had many beneficial side-effects. The most
important was that we now ate dinner together as a family each evening.
Given the hectic schedule of families with two working parents, the
institution of the family meal has gone by the wayside in many American
homes. Returning to this tradition has created a feeling of greater
coherence in our family life. It has also assured a better diet for our
kids; we had less control over what the nannies fed our kids.

Finally, in January 1996, Max stopped taking Carcinosin. Just like the
step-function quality of Max's improvement with each monthly change of
dose, going off the remedy after a year led to a huge leap in language and
social ability. This leap continued for at least four months until it
evened out. Max's true personality began to emerge full force. He is an
entertainer. He is sociable and sensitive. Although he was still immature
at this point, he was quite ahead in academic skills and respected and
liked by his teachers and classmates. Though he came into the new school in
the middle of the school year, by the end of the year he had friends, knew
everyone at the school, and was interested in what was going on in "the
social scene."

In May Donna tested Max once more. At age 4.75, he was testing above age
level (5.5 year-old level). We went through the formal process of releasing
Max from eligibility for special education. It was a joy to sign those
papers! Donna was so excited for us and invited me and John to present
Max's case to her speech and language clinic, which we did in July 1996.

An Ongoing Process.

By the time he was five, it was easy for Steve and I to believe that Max
was fully cured. However, John was less sure and he turned out to be right.
There were still vestigial signs of his former autism, though they were not
really apparent to teachers or anyone else besides us. For example, his
language production continued to be awkward at times. In times of stress
(e.g. if he was sick), he would still retreat into himself and utilize
echolalia as a speech strategy. He was also still a bit hyperactive at
times, not being able to sit in his seat through an entire meal. Even now,
at age six, all of this is still true of Max, though to a lesser degree.

However, functionally Max was doing excellently. He engaged in real
discussions with family and friends. He asked for explanations about his
body and his environment. He related stories about his day at school and TV
shows. He was fascinated by fantasy play and dress up. He could memorize
show tunes and sing perfectly on tune. He was becoming truly popular at
school, with the children running up to him and greeting him
enthusiastically. He adjusted well to new social situations the summer of
1996, readily adapting to two new camps. He had also become an avid reader
(another lesser-known Carcinosin quality). Before he even began
kindergarten, he could easily read simple Dr. Seuss books. Now, at the end
of kindergarten, he can read at a Grade 2 level.

Nevertheless, several events of the summer of 1996 alerted us to the fact
that we were still engaged in an ongoing process with Max -- that he still
has ways to climb to full recovery. The year before, during the summer of
1995, we went to Club Med in Mexico (Pacific coast) and I had sensed that
Max had had a mild amelioration there. During the summer of 1996, we went
to Club Med in the Bahamas (Atlantic coast) and he had a noticeable
aggravation. This bicoastal seaside aggravation/amelioration pattern has
been noted for Carcinosin. After the 1996 trip, I felt his language had
definitely begun to decline.

Another thing that was quite peculiar about our trip to Club Med was a
noticeable aggravation Max experienced in the company of a particular
child. An older rather odd boy (about age 8 or 9) formed a strange
attachment to Max. He would constantly look for Max during the course of
the day. When he found him, he would grab him and play quite vigorously
with him; they would wind each other up into a frenzy. It was almost as if
they were resonating. Perhaps this boy was also Carcinosin and their
matched energy attracted and aggravated each other? In any case, we were
glad to leave by the end of the week!

After the Club Med visit in 1996, though Max showed some decline in speech,
he was still doing well for the most part. Near the end of the summer, I
took him in for his five-year-old checkup. For the first time, I declined
the routine vaccinations (at age five, it is traditional to give the full
battery). Although our pediatrician did not argue with me about this (she
too had borne witness to the changes in Max and probably didn't want to
rock the boat either!), she convinced me to have him take the TB-test,
required for kindergarten entry.

Although Max did not have a "TB" reaction, this test (administered as a
subcutaneous injection rather than as the standard tine test) led to a
marked aggravation in Max's state. For the next week, he became
increasingly sensitive, crying for no reason. The teachers at camp and at
his school remarked about the change in him. He had become more withdrawn,
fearful, and cried for the least reason. He was not his normal self. This
experience ("Worse, vaccination" -- another Carcinosin keynote) has made us
wonder if vaccination was causative of Max's problems in the first place.
After a couple of tries with other remedies, John decided it was time to
return to Carcinosin. After a single dose of LM13, Max was back to his
normal self in a matter of hours!

We breathed a sigh of relief, and started Max back on the remedy. After an
initial period of LM13, we recognized it was too high, returned to LM1, and
started back up the ladder again. This worked wonderfully, and once again
we saw the characteristic pattern of "jumps" at the beginning of each
month, with "end-of-the-bottle behavior" at the end. Although Max's
improvements were really only noticeable to me and Steve at this point,
they were still there.

Max remained on the remedy from August 1996 until early March 1997, during
which time he progressed from LM1 to LM7. At that time, I recognized the
aggravation coming on and stopped the remedy. Once again, this was followed
by a long period of noticeable improvement. Right now (June 1997) I am
noticing a subtle decline in speech and anticipate I will reintroduce the
remedy sometime this summer. All said, however, Max is doing wonderfully.
He is a robust, cheerful, and *talented, very* child. He is no longer
autistic but he is still probably Carcinosin!

The Essence of Carcinosin

Carcinosin is not a proved remedy. Therefore, we only have cured clinical
cases from which to gleen its essence. Given that Max is clearly an
excellent representative of this state, what can we learn about Carcinosin
from him?

Looking at the remedy from the standpoint of its source (cancerous breast
tissue), Don Webley points out in his excellent article on Carcinosin
(Homeopathy Online, Issue 1) that cancer is a disease of intensity:

"This heat, this intensity, this fire kept barely within check,
suggests something of the essence of Carcinosin. Carcinosin is the name we
give to the pathological picture that arises when the life force itself,
present in an individual with great intensity, is thwarted and turns upon
its host organism, consuming it in its mad search for outflow and
resolution."

To me, this is the essence of Carcinosin and of Max. It is an individual
with great inner intensity, passion, and talent -- an intensity that is
burning to get out, be seen, be heard -- that is nevertheless too easily
thwarted and suppressed. Although the remedy is stereotypically associated
with child abuse, this clearly need not be the case. Carcinosin can be so
sensitive that they can be suppressed by common life experiences as well.
When this happens, they retreat and their energy erupts within, manifesting
in physical symptoms and internal restlessness. Sociologically, one is also
reminded of the common view of cancer as a disease of individuals who
repress their emotions. It is not hard to see why this remedy is often
confused with Staphisagria. Indeed, as Don Webley pointed out in his
article on Carcinosin, the remedy can be viewed as a great masquerader,
often being confused with many other remedies, including Natrum Muriaticum,
Sepia, Phosphorus, Tuberculinum, and Medorrhinum.

Max's Carcinosin fire and intensity could be seen in numerous physical,
emotional, and mental signs:

* Early eruption of teeth.
* Hairiness.
* The head "ridge", formed perhaps by overeager bone development. A
similar symptom is his tendency to easily scar, even from a minor scratch.
Also related may be his other minor birth defects.
* Lymph nodules.
* The characteristic Carcinosin macules.
* A sweaty head when sleeping and physical heat in general.
* Difficulty falling asleep.
* An interest in eggs, symbols of the eruption of life force. Indeed,
Max's emergence into the world was much like that of a chick breaking out
of an egg; his bedtime "chickee" game is symbolic of his life experience.
* A desire for things salty and for chocolate -- energetic foods.
* Internal restlessness and fidgetiness. It is particularly noteworthy
that Max's energy always seemed to be revving inside rather than pouring
outwards as larger gross physical movement.
* Talent and creativity. Love of dancing and acting.
* Possible psychic abilities. For example, he sometimes asks me about
things I am thinking about -- things about which he could not possibly have
any knowledge.
* Strong passion and sexuality.

Another possible symptom of Carcinosin's internal intensity may be the
trademark blue sclerotics. One is reminded of the blue eyes of characters
in the novel Dune; those who partook of the spice drug benefited from inner
wisdom and powers and also developed blue sclerotics!

Despite their fire and intensity, Carcinosin is easily suppressed. Given
their great sensitivity, circumstances which might even be stimulating to
another child might be suppressive to a Carcinosin. For example, the highly
interactive and lively family environment Max experienced as a baby may
have been suppressive for him, given his difficulties with language
production and comprehension. His early experience with pyloric stenosis
surgery, including the loss of so much milk through vomiting, was certainly
quite a shock to his system as well. (Given his early difficulties in
retaining breast milk, it is interesting that Carcinosin is derived from
cancerous breast tissue!) Max's subsequent great desire for cow's milk
(perhaps arising out of these earlier losses) also ended up being
suppressive to him, because of an innate sensitivity to it. Another suspect
suppressive influence was vaccination.

In addition to these factors, Max has always been quite sensitive to
reprimand, a typical Carcinosin trait. Even now, if he is scolded about
something (and he doesn't succeed in making a joke out of it with his
typical charm), he has a tendency to withdraw and sometimes even fall
asleep. This tendency to withdraw in the face of suppression is perhaps the
root of Carcinosin pathology. What could be more symbolic of withdrawal
than the autistic state? Max's autism, in particular, was coupled with a
great inner restlessness. This combination is quintessential Carcinosin,
since it combines inner intensity with withdrawal. Other signs of Max's
inner-held tension include: his tendency to be tidy; his desire for
precision (he loves coloring books and colors perfectly within the lines,
with amazing attention to detail); perfectionism (he is especially adept at
creating perfectly symmetric designs and structures); stubbornness; his
desire to learn to do things by himself; teeth grinding; his earlier
propensity for hair twirling and pulling; and his problems with cranial
compression.

Also related to this inward intensity may be some of Max's mischievous
qualities -- particularly a love of hiding. He loves to tease us by hiding
and suprising us, and also enjoys performing magic tricks involving hiding
and slight of hand. His general tendency towards things visual rather than
oral may also be related to an inwardizing tendency. Visual observation can
be intense and creative, yet can be more passive than oral interaction.

Don Webley's article on Carcinosin also points out the bipolar nature of
the remedy -- for example, the tendency to shift from loving some food to
suddenly hating it. In my view, this stems from the intrinsically yin/yang
or dualisitic nature of the Carcinosin state: of wanting to simultaneously
explode with intensity and, at the same time, to hold it all in. Symbolic
of this tension is the ebb and flow of the sea. Perhaps this is the reason
why Carcinosin can be both ameliorated and aggravated at the seashore.

Summary of Symptoms

To summarize Max's case, I've compiled and organized his symptoms below.
Many of these can be found in most sources on Carcinosin. Others are less
typical. Hopefully Max's case will lend extra weight to these less common
symptoms so that new cases of Carcinosin can be more easily recognized.

MIND.
*Sensitive. Sensitive to reprimand or disapproval. Sensitive to music.
*Love of dancing, acting, singing.
Desire for attention.
Imitation: voices, accents, behavior.
Excellent sense of rhythm.
Sings on key, in young children.
*Desire to hide (playfully).
Mischievous.
Desire to run off (in children).
Passionate.
Sexual intensity.
Desire to run about naked.
Desire to "moon" others.
Desire for "toilet talk."
Fascination with eggs.
Emotional distance/lack of desire for physical affection.
Affectionate/desire for physical affection.
Sympathetic.
*Difficulty in producing speech. Late to speak. "Cogwheel" speech.
Difficulty answering questions.
Echolalia.
Difficulty comprehending speech.
Telepathy.
*Visual/geometric/balancing abilities.
Photographic memory.
*Love of symmetry.
*Precision.
Fastidiousness.
Concentration good.
Perfectionism.
Stubbornness.
Restlessness.
Fidgetiness, especially at meals.
Gestures:
- Pokes finger or bumps head into another's chest.
- Runs fingers back and forth across table or chair.
Love of insects. Willing to pick them up, and sometimes desires to squash
them.
Love of cats.
Love of letters and numbers.
*Love of reading.
*Love of writing.
Desires a light caressing touch.

GENERALS.
Warm.
Thin, muscular build.
Worse, vaccination.
Tendency to easily scar.
Tendency to form lymph nodules in neck and groin.
Aggravation and amelioration at seaside.

BIRTH.
CVS test.
Ultrasound.
Low amniotic fluid during last week of pregnancy.
VBAC.
Epidural.
Pitocin.

PATHOLOGY.
Pyloric stenosis.
Autism.

FAMILY MEDICAL BACKGROUND.
Cancer.
Diabetes.
Heart Disease.
Gout.
Rheumatic Fever.
Schizophrenia.
Tendencies towards substance abuse.
Mononucleosis.
Appendicitis.
Tonsillitis.

HEAD.
Ridge at midline suture.
Cranial compression.

EYES.
Large eyes.
Blue sclerotics.
Right eye remains half-open during sleep.

MOUTH.
Early eruption of teeth.
Development of extra tooth (between two front teeth).
Teeth grinding, especially during sleep.

CHEST.
Partially formed third nipple, right side of chest.

STOMACH.
Desire: *salt, *cow's milk, ice cubes, chocolate, nuts, lemons, sausages.
Aggravation: *cow's milk

MALE.
Desire to masturbate (in children).

RECTUM.
Partially formed anorectal fistula.

PERSPIRATION.
Warm perspiration on top and back of head, back, chest during sleep.

SLEEP.
*On back, with hands over top of head.
Sleeps on top of covers.
Difficulty falling asleep.
Difficulty awaking from afternoon nap.

SKIN.
Allergy to erythromycin eye ointment at birth.
Hairy back, neck, extremities.
Dark brown macules on face, torso, and extremities.

The LM Dose

Hahnemann's final contribution to homeopathy, the posology of the LM dose,
is still not commonly used and understood by most homeopaths. However, it
is slowly gaining in acceptance and usage. Of course, the ultimate goal in
choosing any potency level is to match the "intensity" or "potency level"
of the client. If a case needs a 10M jab, then give a 10M! However the LM
dosing methodology has several unique characteristics that make it
attractive for many cases:

* It is administered in solution, commonly considered more gentle and
effective than the dry dose.
* LM doses are usually taken daily or at frequent intervals. The
patient succusses the remedy and can use zero, one, or more dilution cups.
This methodology enables one to fine-tune the dose to the needs and
sensitivities of the patient. The variables that can be varied include:
o the frequency of dose
o the number of succussions used
o the number of dilution cups used
* LM's are readily available in gradually ascending potencies (LM1,
LM2, etc.). Coupled with the process of daily succussion, the patient is
assured of getting a slightly higher dose each time they take the remedy.
Hahnemann grew to believe that this strategy was most effective in
producing a cure.

I believe that all of these factors make the LM dose quite useful for deep
chronic cases, especially those characterized by sensitivity. In such
cases, a person has become habituated to a state that they are not readily
moved from. The LM dose can subtley and gradually shift such individuals
out of their habituated posture. Perhaps, if the healing process is
gradual, the body puts up less resistance to it. If the individual is also
sensitive, the dose can be suitably adjusted to their needs (rather than
"stabbing" them brusquely, as a high potency centisimal dose sometimes can).

Daily LM dosing also has the advantage of providing a daily "injection" of
remedy that can override antidotal factors if they are present. For
example, if the patient must remain on allopathic drugs or if they cannot
escape from an environment that is aggravating, a daily dose of remedy can
provide an energetic "nudge" on a more regular basis.

I believe that the daily dose also adds an important psychological or
intentionality factor into the healing process. In our experience with Max,
I feel quite certain that the healing intention we placed into each
teaspoon we administered was instrumental to his cure. Moreover, in a world
that is accustomed to the daily administration of allopathic medicines and
vitamins, a daily dosing methodology can provide patients with the feeling
that they are really "doing" something to cure themselves. This alone can
have a positive psychological and thus positive curative effect. If
patients are familiar with and confident about homeopathy, they can more
readily accept the infrequent dry dose. But if they are not (or if their
condition is truly deep and problematic), the daily process of taking a
remedy can engage them more actively in the homeopathic healing process.

Treating Childhood Behavioral Problems

Any parent knows that childrearing involves constant attention to the
child's changing needs and the concommitant adjustment of routines to meet
those needs. However, as children grow older, required changes are usually
less frequent. It thus becomes quite easy for parents to become entrenched
in patterns of behavior or in choices about education and environment.

One of the things I tried to stress in Max's story is our periodic need to
"rethink" things and adjust his schooling, our childcare setup, our family
dynamic, and our own attitudes. This is still an ongoing process for us --
and it is still easy for us to get entrenched!

The need for dynamic reexamination and readjustment is even more pronounced
if a child is undergoing homeopathic treatment for behavioral problems.
They will be shifting! They will be changing. Although, as parents, we can
try to adapt as best we can on the home front, it is sometimes impossible
for teachers or classmates to change their expectations and attitudes
towards a child. Sometimes a certain environment may simply become
unsuitable for a child once they have changed. In such situations,
schooling or childcare changes must also be made.

Perhaps even more important is the need to constantly and truthfully
examine our own feelings towards our children. It is incredibly hard to
accept and cope with the fact that ones child may be experiencing
difficulties. I still struggle with such issues, with respect to both my
children -- with respect to friends and family as well! I heartily
recommend the aforementioned book by Barry Kaufman on how to accept and
unconditionally love your child as s/he is. This ability can help both the
parent and the child achieve happiness in spite of difficulties. By
engaging with the child on their own terms, we can more fully understand
them. And by engaging in happiness and love, we take a step towards healing
both the child and ourselves.

Amy L. Lansky, Ph.D.
Renaissance Research
lansky@renresearch.com