Brass knuckles–a metaphor for rage
“I’ve been beat up for two years,” was the opening statement of this 22 year old youth.
He then told how he had fractured his left clavicle two years ago playing football. That was December, 2008. It did not heal well. Then he re-broke it. It still did not heal and was quite painful. He used a “bone stimulator,” a device that uses ultrasound waves to knit bones that refuse to heal. It worked, but in December, 2010, pain returned at the site of the fracture even though the fracture had healed. “It felt like I re-broke it,” he said.
It turned out he had a tendency to fractures. At age eleven, he broke the growth plates in both knees. At age twelve, he broke his left foot and, as a teenager, he broke his left hand while diving. As a diver he was ranked second in the entire United States. He had also torn the ligaments in the left thumb. It was repaired surgically.
He had also fractured his low back at L4-L5.
Once he dived from the high board (equivalent to approximately three stories above ground) and had landed on his back causing small tears in the spleen. Fortunately, his spleen returned to normal without treatment.
Currently, his shoulders were tight, so tight he could not dive properly. The left one was tighter than the right. Recently, he had nicked the left thumb and the small cut would not heal.
All these left-sided problems—what could they mean? According to the German physician, Dr. Ryke Geerd Hamer, founder of “The German New Medicine,” problems on the left side may be related to problems with one’s mother or siblings. I asked if he had any trouble with his mother or siblings.
“Yes, with my sister,” he said. He was one of five adopted children. The sister, who no longer lived at home, was adopted when she was five. He had been adopted when he was six.
“What is your problem with her?”
“She went south,” he said. “She was a liar and a thief. She left home when she was sixteen and went into prostitution. If I had had the chance, I would have killed her.”
“Really?”
“If I didn’t have to take responsibility. I could have torn her into a hundred pieces and then sat down and eaten a good dinner.”
“What was it about her?”
“Everything she stood for. She damaged the reputation of our family. She blamed us for her prostitution. She blamed me for everything.”
“Anything else?”
“At one point I felt betrayed by her,” he said, motioning to his mother sitting next to him.
He related how he had been on painkillers for years because of the bone fracture pain. At a certain point the doctor stopped writing prescriptions. Then one of his cousins claimed he was stealing his painkillers. And a teenage girl he knew claimed, “I wouldn’t keep my hands off her.”
“All these tales were complete lies,” he said, “but I thought my mother was buying into them. I considered leaving the family.”
Eventually, it was resolved. When I saw him, he harbored no grudge against his mother.
He was a very hard worker and loved to work. “I like to deserve what I earn,” he said. He had worked construction jobs in the past. He said he was entirely honest. “I would never consider taking a pain medicine that had not been legally prescribed.”
I asked more about his anger. “Have you ever gone into rages?”
“Yes, about every one and a half to two years,” he said. “It’s not something I can’t control.
“What have you done?”
“I’ve punched walls, kicked walls.”
He then told about how the sister he hated had circulated a series of lies about him and incited three black teenagers to attack him in a part of the high school where there were no cameras.
“What happened?”
“I lost it.”
“What happened to them?”
“I have no idea. When I left them, they were not conscious.”
“Did you receive training in one of the martial arts?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
His passion was riding his motorcycle. “I love the feeling of freedom. There’s so much power.”
He related how dangerous it could be riding a motorcycle and that he had taken a course in defensive driving. “One reason I like it is that I drive with brass knuckles under my riding gloves. If some driver tries to run me off the road or nearly hits me because of carelessness I can get real angry. I enjoy being angry and being justified in it.”
On one occasion, he and a friend were riding their motorcycles when a woman sped out of a parking lot without looking and nearly ran over his friend and almost collided with him. “It was completely her fault,” he said. “I nearly wiped out, but I recovered. Then I accelerated, came up to the side of her car and rapped her fender with the brass knuckles. Left a dent.”
Because of his passion for fairness, his explosive anger and left-sided fractures, he was given Mercius-iodatus-rubrum and when I saw him a month later he said his left shoulder was “considerably looser,” the wound in his left thumb had finally healed, and his anger was far less. People who need one of the homeopathic mercury preparations often have this kind of explosive, violent anger plus a strong sense of justice.