by Dr. Judyth Reichenberg-Ullman and Dr. Robert Ullman
“The itching drives me up the wall!”
Kim called us from Idaho when she was five weeks pregnant with her second child. “What bothers me the most is chronic vaginitis during and since my first pregnancy. I’ve had a yellowish discharge for years. There’s a fishy smell when it’s more flared up, like before my period, after sex, and when I feel emotional. But, mostly, it’s insanely itchy. It drives me up the wall. Especially in the middle of the night. It’s a really sharp, acute itchiness that becomes sore when I scratch. The only thing that helped was an antifungal cream. Miconazole didn’t touch it. The itch makes me so anxious that I can’t relax. It’s consuming. Something coming back to haunt. Tingly, prickly. All consuming. An irresistible itch. Putting cold water on it helps a bit. The itch starts at a single point. Then the sensation of annoyance spreads through my whole being. It makes me think of stinging nettles. It’s hot. A prick. After a few minutes, the tingling spreads. Not much brings relief. It feels like the point of an acupuncture needle. Very small and very acute. It’s sudden. A pricking against the skin. A ripple that moves along the surface of the skin. Then something electric underneath. It’s a quick, acute pain. Ouch! The pain is almost unexpected, but inevitable. Little, hard blisters develop if I itch a lot.”
“The skin becomes so raw. Like sandpaper. If I do itch, it’s extremely satisfying. Like a mosquito bite. Temporary relief, then rawness. A slight ache. It’s so sensitive afterwards. Hypersensitive and angry. Like if the fabric of my underwear brushes against me. A really unpleasant sensation. It almost sends shivers down my back. It makes me want to jump away from the contact. Everything feels rough and harsh. Even something as soft as silk would not be soft enough. Almost singed. Like if your hair is too close to a flame. Sandpapery. Scraped. Abrasion. Like it’s torn off the top layer of the skin. … Gravelly. Heat like from coals. Abrasion. Tearing. Catching on the surface. The surface is so sensitive. I don’t want to say brittle. Fragile. Plasticky. Easily breakable. Not strong. Not supple. The skin feels older. Hard. Artificial. Unnatural.”
“I’ve had a lot of fatigue lately and some nausea. I used to have a lot of trouble with asthma. I’m okay now unless I rub a cat in my face. I had it as a very young child. It went away and returned in my 20s. When I was 25, I had to go to the ER because I couldn’t breathe. It felt sticky. Confining. Like if anything brushed against it, it would stick even more. Like one of those insect-eating plants with the sticky stuff on it. The more the insect moves, it wraps around even more. There is no escape. Once you set it off, it’s more and more consuming. Very adhesive. Ropy, rubbery. Mucky. Mucousy. Thick. You can’t escape it. Stagnant. It doesn’t allow for fluidity. Air. Ease… I also get some gas and constipation.” When we inquired about how the vaginitis affected Kim, she responded that it was an unpleasant annoyance.
It was clear, because of the numerous, intense, easily expressed sensations, that Kim needed a homeopathic plant remedy. We asked just how sensitive she was overall. “I am definitely emotionally sensitive. But it’s all of my senses. I have acute vision. I see a lot of things people don’t see. Especially in nature. Everything is heightened now that I am pregnant. All of my senses. Loud music and sharp noises are aggravating. My sense of smell is very strong. Anything artificial. Perfumes, room sprays. It feels like they eat into my brain. Contaminate me. Poison me. Like they’re seeping through my skin. Invading. Trespassing. Like damaging a pristine environment. Spoiling. Defacing… The skin is so permeable that it’s not protecting. It feels dirty. Ashy. Disintegrating. Corrosive. When I was little we lived near a paper mill. It was spewing a lot of ash. Almost like snow. I knew even then that it was bad for me. Fine dust. Acrid. I don’t recall if I ever touched or played with it. If I did, it would be corrosive, irritating, bitter, acidic. If it were on my skin, it would leave some burn or irritation. There’s almost a small that comes up. Sharp, acrid, dusty. Slightly pungent. Stale. Almost a sourness to it.”
At this point, we had decided what to prescribe for Kim. We asked a few more confirmatory questions.: First, if Kim ever smoked. “I smoked for about ten years. There was an initial buzz at first. I liked the sensation of fullness in my lungs. It felt like a release on the exhalation. When I think about smoking now, there is almost that sourness. There’s something about the smell that relates to that ash. Like it was making me older.” We then asked about the smell of ash. “The word acrid comes up again and again. Like if it were in a liquid form. It would be corrosive. Singeing. Sharp, foul, unpleasant, polluting. I can’t wash it off. It got into my system. I have a definite aversion to tobacco smoke. I want to get away from it as quickly as possible or else I feel nauseous or sick. I recoil. It’s dirty.”
We inquired about Kim’s fears. “From childhood, she had been sensitive psychically. “I would feel a presence around me. It makes my skin crawl thinking about it. Like watching a horror movie. “ Kim loved salty, oily, and fried foods, especially rich, tangy Indian sauces with savory flavors.” The last question, based on information in the materia medica about the medicine we had chosen: “Would you say that you are satisfied with your life?” Kim’s response: “My husband would say nothing is ever quite good enough. That I am always asking for something more.”
A Sensation Case Par Excellence
From the very beginning of the case taking, Kim indicated “Plant.” Her exquisite sensitivity in all areas made the choice of prescribing a plant obvious. The main sensations were: tingly, prickly, stinging, raw, sandpapery, scraped, abrasion, tearing. Not only do these sensations come again and again in the case taking, but they confluenced (according to the terminology of Dr. Divya Chhabra) back to ash and sour from her childhood. There was a diversion to sticky, which could have led to a carnivorous plant, but we considered that a distraction and remained with the other sensations.
We chose the Araceae (arum) family. The key sensations of the arums are: burning, smarting, exposed, irritating, raw, stinging, soreness, and rawness with itching. The specific medicine, which has as a keynote itching of the vulva during pregnancy, worse at night from the heat of the bed, is Caladium. Those needing this medicine, according to Franz Vermuelen’s Synoptic Key from ReferenceWorks, exhibit either a strong craving for smoking or are highly sensitive to tobacco smoke. “They would like the world to exist without a single shadow entering the picture, but there is always some small detail that disappoints them.” Grandgeorge, also in ReferenceWorks, adds, “Everywhere I look, right away I always find the one little defect that ruins everything.” From the Millennium Repertory: Irritation, vulva; female genitalia, itching during pregnancy; itching, cold water ameliorates; itching, vagina, during pregnancy; itching, intolerable; itching, burning; and itching, voluptuous, vagina.” We prescribed a single dose of Caladium 1M.
The Araceaes are a family of rhizomatous or tuberous, flowering plants. The flowers are borne on a type of inflorescence called a spadix. This family of 107 genera and over 3700 species is the most diverse in the New World tropics, although it thrives elsewhere as well. Some of the more well-known members of the family are taro, Anthurium, Dieffenbachia, Caladium, skunk cabbage, and Philodendron. The plants often contain calcium oxalate crystals. Caladium, known as Elephant’s Ear, Heart of Jesus, or Angel Wings, has arrowhead-shaped leaves. The plants is popular for its bold green with pinkish red, or white with green-veined, patterns. Indigenous to Brazil and parts of South and Central America, it has been cultivated in Europe since the late 18th century. The botanical description of Caladium includes the word “acrid,” which was a strong sensation in Kim’s case.
A Great Response to the Caladium
Two Months
The discharge was at least 75% better. Only slight itching and 50% less yellowy discharge. I am no longer getting the little blisters. The pregnancy is good. I am 13 weeks along and feeling much better “When we shared with Kim what we had prescribed, she responded enthusiastically: “I have Caladium around the outside of my house every year. I find it so beautiful and unusual. I usually get the white, variegated type and the red. The first time I saw it in a greenhouse, I thought it was so beautiful and I bought a bunch of it. I will send you a picture of one of my Caladium beds.” Kim requested that she take a low-potency, repeated medicine, in case the coffee interfered.
Three and a Half Months
The symptoms are almost a non-issue now. I take a dose of the Caladium when I need it.
Five Months
Thirty-one weeks pregnant. Only a very slight flare-up of the vaginitis recently. “My plantar warts have erupted more lately.” This was particularly interesting to us since Caladium corresponds to the sycotic miasm. We asked about other warts:
“I have a wart on the edge of my eyelashes. I was diagnosed with venereal warts about twenty years ago.”
Kim gave birth to a healthy baby boy at home in water. I am treating husband and the baby, but she has not needed further homeopathic care.
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