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Saturday July 26, 2025 There are many families here overflowing with hope, silently spilling our prayers. We speak different languages, but our bodies share the same culture. We smile, nod politely. We have grown tired, but our children amaze us with their vibrancy. Everything is run on a tight and meticulous schedule. One wheelchair accessible van drops us off while another is leaving. Then our van takes one of the other families back to their hotel and another arrives. We have two drivers assigned to us, that switch on and off. David and Carlos. In Spanish, we have learned how to say Thank you, how are you, good morning, good afternoon, good night, see you tomorrow, I’m sorry, Mother, please, eggs, pancakes, bathroom, dog, water… and a few other phrases and words. Julius is calm, and comfortable. He sleeps during his treatments. There are three treatment rooms at the research Center. They call them studios. Each studio has a Cytotron machine. They are behind sliding doors of frosted glass and wired to a central control station behind another milk glass slider. Each child is unique to the others. A girl with long brown hair named Laud, points and smiles at everyone. She has bonded with Julius’ sister and squeals in delight each day she sees her. Lauda goes into the studio that Julius utilises. She follows behind us. She is here with her mother. I don’t know where they are from, but they speak Spanish so I am guessing they are from the area. Michelle and her parents are from Mexico City. Michelle is a smart teenager, with long red hair. She speaks English skilfully and with no accent. She interprets for her parents. Her mother, provides physical support to prevent Michelle from falling when she walks. Michelle is proud to say that she used to have therapy with the actor who plays the role of Lucca in the Netflix movie, Lucca’s Word, which is a story of a Mexican boy whose parents advocate to get him Cytotron treatments. They travel all the way to India, where the technology was invented. I was happy to know that Lucca’s actor had cerebral palsy. I wondered when we watched Lucca’s World if the casting director happened to find someone excellent at portraying a body with cerebral palsy or if AI was used to manipulate the actor’s body. The authenticity of actually casting an actor living with cerebral palsy, felt good. At the end of Julius’ treatment all three of us have to be de-electrofied. A metal clamp is placed on each of our wrists before we can exit the studio. It reminds me of rubbing a balloon back and forth on my head as a kid and my hair would stand straight up, or sliding my socked feet through the green shag carpet and then touching the rod iron banister to purposely elicit a shock. No metal is allowed in the machine because it will interfere with the electromagnetic field. The entire earth is one huge electromagnetic field. Author Laura Lynne Jackson describes it as a massive jumble of charged particles that stretch all the way from the earth’s interior to the farthest depths of space. She goes on to say scientific studies have shown that many animals use the earth’s magnetic field to orient themselves and to navigate their way through the world…and that all living beings generate electromagnetic energy. Every connection we have with another, be it direct or indirect, is an electromagnetic exchange. It is happening right now as you read this page. This led me to consider the relationship between electromagnetic fields (EMF) and Rotational Field Quantum Magnetic Resonance (RFQMR), the invisible energy source within the Cytotron. I found this from Google AI: EMF is a broad term for the physical field produced by electric charges, encompassing both electric and magnetic fields. RFQMR is a specific technology that utilizes a controlled, rotating electromagnetic field to deliver targeted energy to tissues, often in the context of medical applications. Every day, I sit at the head of the tube Julius lies within. One of the techs puts a template over his face while I cover his eyes. An infra-red diagram is cast onto his face and adjustments are made to the bed until it is positioned just right for the treatment to begin. I move my hands away and sit by him. His sister sits on the other side of the room lost in her own technology. I am allowed to reach in a touch Jules. He drifts into sleep. Nothing moves. The tube is dark. I cannot see electromagnetic waves. None-of us can. During our intake, when I asked how to a single beam could reach all areas of Julius’ brain, I was told there are several beams. Seven align with the spine and one with multiple fingers goes into the brain fully reaching all hemispheres. My thoughts go deep into Julius’ head and I imagine what is happening and why this form of science is not researched more extensively since it is our earths most powerful energy source. Sometimes, I doze off with my head against the wall before we are both awakened when the lights are turned back up. In the moments that we are there, I don’t want to be any other place in the world. Thank you for continuing to follow along, and for donating to this monumental task of faith and science. https://gofund.me/4fe43272 Pics- Julius and our driver, Carlos; Michelle and her parents; My daughter and Lauda.
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July 22, 2025 “MOM! WAKE UP!!” I startled into an upright position in the hotel bed I am sharing with Julius. Both kids were asleep. I checked the clock. The time was 6:35am. Five minutes later than my alarm setting. ‘Why didn’t the alarm go off?’ ‘Who woke me?’ I remembered Cyrus, Julius’ younger sibling who died at birth, long before my daughter was born or could it have been Julius telepathically communicating with me through his dreams. Sounds woo-woo, I know. But, Julius and I have a non-verbal bond that is difficult to translate into words. I let the question go and immediately started getting ready for Julius’ second Cytotron treatment. Later, I realised, it’s Saturday and my alarm was set only for weekdays. The treatment takes commitment with no days off. The NeuroCytonix Research Center runs seven days a week 8:00a to 8:00p with families coming from all over the world. For those unfamiliar with the Cytotron, in the USA the therapy is referred to as RFQMR, the acronym for Rotational Field Quantum Magnetic Resonance. The treatment is non-invasive, painless and has no reported side effects. Julius usually falls asleep. The way I understand RFQMR is that the cells in our bodies give off radio frequencies and the Cytotron machine detects abnormal cells by their difference in frequency from healthy cells. It looks very similar to a tubular MRI machine, except that it induces apoptosis, a programmed cell death that happens in abnormal, rapidly dividing cells, such as cancer cells. It also does the opposite, stimulating cell growth and repair in degenerative conditions. While treatments like FDA approved radiation therapy in cancer destroys both unhealthy cells and the surrounding healthy cells, RFQMR does not harm the surrounding healthy cells because of this ability to differentiate between cells. Cerebral Palsy is more complicated than cancer, in that it varies from one person to the next. CP is actually an umbrella term for categorising brain injuries that occur in infants in utero, during birth and in early childhood. Most cases of CP are preventable, but healthcare continues to fall short of excellence in this area of preventative care. In the USA alone there is an estimated 1 million cases of CP in varying degrees, that is about 1 in every 345 children. Yesterday, we met another family from the US that have come for treatment. Ezra and her mom. PJ have given me permission to share their story with ours. At days end we sat by the pool exchanging our anxieties about getting here. Ezra is a pre-teen who uses a wheelchair and is able to speak. Unlike Julius, she has no feeding tube or tracheostomy. Her brother, who is her twin is more involved, similar to Julius. He remains in the US with his other mom and PJ is hoping that he will also get a chance to come for treatment. But what we are both hoping for mostly is that the USA will open the gates to allow our families and others to receive this treatment in our own country. Maryland, USA is where the Center’s mother research centre is located and PJ tells me that a representative from the FDA visits NeuroCytotonix here in Monterrey, Mexico monthly evaluating what is happening here. The powers that be have been coming for two years. Our intake worker said they keep asking for more data. So, of course, I gave permission for NeuroCytotonix to include Julius in the data they are collecting in a determined attempt to get USA FDA approval to treat patients with cerebral palsy using the Cytotron machines that are being utilised in the USA for other approved diagnoses. Here in Mexico their equivalent to our FDA already has granted approval and families that can managed the costs of the treatment are sharing their positive feedback. Many, like us, have gotten donations from Go-Fund-Me platforms and other financing avenues. I came into this with a realistic hope, meaning that I understood this is not a cure for cerebral palsy, but a possibility at reducing the fight Julius’ body gives us both every single day. Julius weighs less than 100 pounds, but lifting him and moving his limbs feels like double the weight. The fight is real and hard on both our bodies. His joints become more atrophied as he ages and his tonal patterns are more difficult to release. When he is in a spastic attack I am unable to bend his iron stiff body. Imagine how tight your neck would be if you held your head to the left all the time waiting for someone to help you move it back to centre. Don’t get me wrong in my vulnerability here. Julius is not an unhappy person. On the contrary, he is the most loving, trusting human I know. His very life depends on the kindness of others and the willingness of another to approach him and say “hello, I see you.” I love him exactly the way he is. Making his body more comfortable will not make me love him any more than I already do. It simply would make our daily life, less difficult. Getting us here was extremely stressful. In the end, some things were left behind, like Julius’ eye glasses. I was so disappointed with myself when I realised this detail. It seemed minor compared to the other mishaps that happened during our travels. (I will save that for another time.) When we arrived at our hotel, Julius’ eyes were all over the place. What I mean is that his glasses play a significant role in keeping his irises in better alignment. I new without those glasses, his eyes would not work together. And in his attempt to try looking at me with both eyes synchronised, the left iris shook uncontrollably. Of course, even when I did get his glasses on him, his dominant tone that twists his head to the left would just knock them off. It is a game of cat and mouse keeping those glasses on. Sill, I felt deflated for forgetting them. How much worse would his eyes become before we returned home? Ugh To my surprise, after the first treatment, Julius’ eyes were better. Huh? Maybe the good night sleep he got made it appear so. They are worse when he’s tired. Then, the next day, they were even better. By the third day, there was no denying something had changed. Honestly, I hoped for improvement, mostly a release from the high tone, known as spasticity, and also some coordination in his swallow so that he wouldn’t require so much suctioning. Those were my two wishes in coming here. That’s not too much to ask for, is it? Still, I am not expecting jumping jacks. But wow, I never considered June’s eyes and absolutely did not think we’d notice any improvement until after we returned to the US. Building new neuronal pathways takes time after-all, right? We would have to follow up with supportive PT and OT for sure? I thought it was presumptuous of the doctor to ask, after the first treatment, if we noticed any changes. Well, we are now on day five. Julius’ eyes are working together and I can rotate his shoulders. Sockets that were nearly frozen are in motion. PJ and Ezra are experiencing their improvements as well and they are only a couple of days ahead of us. Ezra kept her left hand in a tight fist and she could not sit without full support from a wheelchair. She is now able to open her left hand, stretching her fingers and she is able to sit on the plastic shower bench that accompanies an “accessible” hotel room, so PJ can shampoo her daughter’s hair without having their fully supported shower chair left at home. We both have before and after photos of these improvements. Since I have already shared Julius’ beautiful eyes, I will share Ezras very proud ability to open her left hand, and the before picture her mom shared with me. I know there is a lot of skepticism out there. I’ve read much of it before coming. I even considered cancelling and returning the donations, mostly because of the stress I went through in preparing. PJ said she went through the same thing. In her words, “I was gonna bail.” Well, thank goodness neither of us took the easy way out. Getting here was hard, but here we are and neither of us want to be any other place in the world at this moment. Thank you all again for your belief in us and for helping us get here! Please spread the word!
Julius Before and After Ezra Before and After
 I hit a wall, doubted everything, broke down and then reached out asking for strength, protection and the ability to get us where we belong with everything we need to make this experience as successful as possible. After a challenging transition that I will write about later, we are now in a beautiful place where kindness surrounds us.
Julius’ initial testing was done the day after we arrived. The Hospital Angeles is just a few cartwheels away from our hotel here in the San Pedro area of Monterrey, Mexico. At night, we can see the reflection of the lighted hospital sign on the mirrored facade of the tower outside the windows of our apartment. We have more space than I expected and the floor plan accommodates our wheelchair well. The private hospital is breathtaking, a word I have never used to describe any medical facility, until now. In comparison, the building makes our hospitals look like auto-mechanic garages. It feels as if we have been transported into the future by a few decades. I am attaching a photo of the stunning main exterior entrance. The image speaks for itself. Inside, natural light bounces off the polished marble slab floors. Shadows from the late afternoon sun followed us through a long curved corridor skipped with tall sheets of glass that overlooked a courtyard. To operate the elevators there are tablets cantilevered near their doors at the ground floor. Our hospital escort, Mayte, took us to a small interior room that was equipped with the Electroencephalogram machine where Julius was prepared for is pre-EEG. The tech fitted him with a yellow cap pierced with rows of riveted holes and then filled each hole with a clear gel for thorough conduction of the electrodes. When she finished, she input some information into a computer screen and then sat on the other side of Julius and busied herself on her cell phone. After several minutes I asked her if she was going to attach the wires. She did not speak English and I do not speak Spanish, but we understood each other just fine. She peeled an edge of the yellow cap back and showed me that the holes were actually sensors reading Julius’ brain waves. No additional wires were necessary and no gummy mess in Julius’ hair from the former method of capturing an EEG. After the test was done, we moved to an upper floor where several doctors and assistants met us for the MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) of Julius’ brain and spine. I transferred my guy to the gourney that waited for him. The lead doctor was dressed in bright red scrubs. He asked me a few questions about Julius and then brought the gas-anaesthesia closer. “Now? Here?” I asked. “Si,” he said. I did not anticipate that I’d be able to be with Julius when they put him to sleep. It’s one of the most tense moments of having to leave him and it has not gotten easier after all these years. In the U.S. I have to barter with the anaesthesiologist for approval to escort Jules into the OR where the gas is administered. Most of the time they let me through. I bent down to my son’s beautiful face distorted by cerebral palsy and sang our anaesthesia song to him while the gas was gently released. I rubbed his eyelids, singing softly until he fell gently into sleep. The process went significantly slower than I was used to. The pace reduced anxiety for me. Mayte walked my daughter and I around the area- a Starbucks on the ground floor, small shops and restaurants of various ethnicities in the plaza. We ate in a small cafe across from a grid of bubbling fountains, the kind children can run through. The grounds were spotless. People greeted us with nods and smiles. Mayte stayed in communication with the medical staff via texts. After we finished our lunches, and were browsing the window displays she received an alert and turned to me to say Julius was waking up. “Oh he’s done already then!” I said. “No” she said, “Julius moved during the MRI.” It isn’t uncommon for Julius to move during an MRI. In America, we are sent home and have to reschedule the test for another time. I felt the familiar knot in my throat before Mayte said she was sorry that they would have to repeat a section of the test because it was very important that every part of the images be sharply in focus. This meant it would take longer than planned. “Oh! They will repeat it right now?” I said both surprised and relieved. We used the additional time to shop for staples for our apartment. Many items I packed, had to be removed due to space. It was already 8:00 pm when we returned to the hotel where we met Zahra, a woman from Saudi Arabia. She and her huge smile squeezed into the elevator around Julius’ wheelchair when I gestured for her to get in before the doors closed. People often hesitate and say they will take the next one, but Zahra was happy to join us. It was her last night in Monterrey and before we separated to go to our different floors she invited us to dinner. (True!) Sahra was here on business, traveling alone, the only woman in her company of 10 employees. This was her first time in Monterrey, Mexico. She deals with tech as most business travellers from around the world do, here. I told her about Julius’ research treatments and she seemed genuinely fascinated. We compared healthcare practices in each of our countries. She asked me much about art saying it has been her love for a long time. We exchanged pictures of our work and stories of our families. She made suggestions of what we could do in the area and said the Museum of Mexican history is free on Sundays. She said how much she loves Mexico and wants to return. I asked if she’s been to other parts of Mexico. She said no and I told her “This is very different from other parts of Mexico.” There are no tourists in the area. No transients on the streets. Everything is clean and the modern architecture is gorgeous. San Pedro of Monterrey is the wealthiest Latin region of the world. Before we left California I asked for strength, support, love and kindness and it is happening. It is like a light switch has flipped on. Everything is brighter. There is much more to share with you, but I need to sleep now. Thank you for having my back and following along!  July 15th, 2025
There is no room to walk in my small living room with all the baggage and boxes filled with medical supplies and equipment. I have been preparing for weeks. I have, yet, to pack our clothes and personal items. Last week, I woke from sleep at 3:00 am with a panic attack. Why did I think I could handle all this? Are we going to be safe? Is it even real? We’ve waited more than two decades for something REAL. What if it doesn’t even exist? I’ve been working over-time for several weeks so I’m sure the lack of sleep and high stress played a role in my anxiety. None-the-less, all communication with the Center has been through emails and WhatsApp. Our hotel reservation was made through the NeuroCytronics Center’s staff. What if it was all fake? I tried to confirm my reservation by making an international call to the hotel directly but couldn’t get through. I called my carrier and paid for a subscription for international calling. My call still failed to go through. My carrier tried to call the hotel for me and he, too, could not get through. I felt myself spiralling before their supervisor said it would take 1-2 days to work. I buried myself into the research again, reviewing everything I could find. I read the skepticism as well as the supportive information. The skepticism was weak. There wasn’t much to grab onto. I reminded myself that Shreis Scalene Sciences, is NeuroCytrotron’s sister research centre here in Maryland, USA, using the SAME therapy for FDA approved conditions. Although Cerebral Palsy is not on the USA approved list (at this time) Mexico’s FDA equivalent has approved the treatment specifically for Cerebral Palsy and have been treating kiddos like mine for years with no known adverse effects. I took deep breaths and centered myself. I pulled up posts from mothers, like me, and came to a mother on Facebook who shared daily updates during their sessions. She and her daughter finished the treatments last month that we are soon undergoing. They are now home. She was exhausted, but hopeful. She had support at home for her other children during her absence, but missed her babies at home terribly throughout the separation. Then, in the midst of her good intentions to share her story for people like me, a sad thing happened- When she opened herself up on social media, she let criticism in and found herself being attacked by people who simply could not understand why she would schlep her daughter out of the U.S for a treatment that had not yet been approved here. I understood. I know. I navigate medical and research fields daily with Julius. We experience delay after delay after delay for just about everything. I wrote to her. She wrote back providing love and support. I feel a fortunate kinship and relief in finding her, a validation from someone who knows what we feel as mothers when we want our children to be healthy and comfortable. From my experience, the Cerebral Palsy label has left many complacent. It’s been around a long time. “Love your child while you have him” is the vibe. Please understand, I love and accept Julius exactly the way he is. We never feel sorry for ourselves, on the contrary actually- my son has empowered me in ways I could have never imagined. True love and acceptance does not equal complacency. I will never be complacent about us. I want the same for him as you want for your children- happiness, good health, longevity, purpose…. So, we received our schedule from the Research Center. Julius will start with an EEG, followed by an MRI, then blood-work, then a neurological evaluation, before the daily protocol begins. When the protocol is finished, these initial tests will be repeated and any neurological and/or physiological changes will be documented. I have decided not to post daily updates on social media after seeing how this other mother was broken down by negativity. It is absolutely imperative that I stay strong, positive and above all, alert and focused on this process. I will still keep you all informed, but not as often as I initially intended. Tomorrow is my birthday. The gift I ask for is safety, healing and kindness. PLEASE send us your prayers, your positivity, your love. If you are able to soften the blow for these expenses we are very grateful. I am still afraid, but moving forward one step at a time, as we navigate obstacles with as much grace as I can muster. Thank you for being here. A side note- I mistakenly said the Research Center is in Mexico City. I’m unfamiliar with the region. It’s actually north of Mexico City, close to the Texas border in beautiful Monterrey. PICTURED: The kiddos working with me all weekend during the deinstall for the Annual Nomad Show sponsored by Torrance Art Museum. |
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