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February 6 - 12, 2003 • electric city Attempting to Put the ‘Spring’ Back in Our StepE.C. staffers prepare for winter’s demise in this four-week series. This week: e.c.’s editor goes through her own version of ‘Spring’ cleaning
Languishing from a combination of chronic seasonal affect disorder and acute cabin fever, the staff of electric city sat down and decided to do something about our refrigerated zest for living. Although most of us have learned to embrace the winter months by taking advantage of our region’s multi-faceted outdoor activities, we all agreed that it would take more than our fair share of downhill and cross-country skiing, ice skating and snowboarding, to get through this winter of Purgatory. We needed to call in the big dogs. Se we did. Starting this week and continuing through the next four, e.c. staffers will fill you in on how we cured ourselves of the ails of winter…and just in time for spring’s heralded return. Staff writers Gene Padden and Alicia Grega-Pikul, for example, processed their seasonal distress quite differently. Gene, on the one hand, had pent-up his frigid frustrations, transforming himself into an even angrier young white man than he originally was (hard to believe, I know). Yoga and meditation were needed to cure his ills. Alicia, in the meantime, experienced monumental anxiety in the face of her wintry constrictions. A good mudbath and seaweed wrap looms large on her horizon. And what about a sluggish, toxic, anal retentive editor with a searing need for the rays of the sun? How about a nice colonic preceded by an infrared sauna, an electro-lymphatic massage and a side of Living Sunshine, for starters. What the hell are they, you might ask? If you want to learn more about these rather fascinating forms of therapy, read on.
Going through “Detox” Driving up South Abington Road, I decided that winter in the country was much more charming than winter in the city. Instead of slush-filled streets and muddy sidewalks, tree boughs swelled with pristine snow while picket fences surrounded yard after yard of veritable winter wonderlands. “Gag me with Normal Rockwell,” I mumbled out loud. I chalked up my surliness to the ricocheting butterflies in my stomach. I was, afterall, on my way to visit a certified colon therapist—not something you do every day. And, at the very least, not something you would exactly look forward to (at least that’s what I initially thought). Still, Donna Florimonte came highly recommended. A registered nurse and Jessup native, Florimonte graduated from San Diego’s prestigious Optimum Health Institute more than 14 years ago and has been practicing colon hydrotherapy ever since. And why, exactly, does someone become a colonic therapist? “I discovered colon therapy through my own health problems,” Florimonte explained. “I was searching for something and I found this.” Florimonte’s “searching” included fasting and cleansing classes at Honesdale’s Himalayan Institute, where she met a wheelchair-bound woman with a terminal illness. After traveling all over the world in an attempt to find a way to heal herself, said woman decided to head out West for a cure. “Her next stop was San Diego,” Florimonte said. “She needed someone to help her and so she paid my way there. I was only supposed to go for three weeks, but it was such a life-changing experience that I stayed for four months. I went through the entire program and that’s where I turned the corner in my life.” The corner Donna is referring to was a monumental one. “I was overweight, I had allergies, I had no energy. I had severe acne since I was 13 and at 31, I still had it,” she said. “After only three weeks in San Diego, I lost weight, my allergies and my face cleared up, and I experienced an elevation in my mood. That’s when I began wondering why I was never taught about cleansing and detoxification in nursing school.” Ever since then, Florimonte has devoted her life to instructing others on the benefits of cleansing and detoxification, and, in another twist of fate, found her way back home to Northeast Pennsylvania. “I was home only for a visit,” she said with a slight grin. “And there I was shopping at Wegman’s when this man approached me in line and jokingly asked if I came there often. When I told him I lived in California, he then asked if I’d like to go out to dinner or do something while I was I still in so I said to myself, “What the heck.” Donna never did make it back to California. Instead, she married the man from the Wegman’s line and began a new life with him in Waverly. But that life would not last very long. Florimonte’s husband died just over a year ago, a loss that clearly shows on her face when she speaks of him. Yet it was her husband who encouraged her to introduce colon therapy to the area, and it’s since become somewhat of her mission. “He really believed in all this,” she said. “I had always thought about it, and when I talked to him, he was the one who really encouraged me.” At first, Florimonte thought she would continue her nursing career and perform colonics on a part-time basis. She transformed an upper bedroom in her Waverly mansion into a therapy room and thought, if she was lucky, she might get three or four appointments a week. Flash forward to today, and Florimonte can hardly keep up with demand. Aside from her colonic room, she has also added an electro-lymphatic treatment and massage room as well as an infrared sauna room. She has two lymphatic/massage therapists working with her—Nancy VerBryck and Melissa Russo—and in a few weeks, will welcome Desiree Coleman, a body sculptor and also a massage therapist, to her bustling homestead. Colon hydrotherapy, it seems, has thus far been embraced in NEPA. “I found a lot of interest,” Florimonte said. “I was working at Everything Natural, a health food store in Clarks Summit, and I realized a lot of people were going to Philadelphia and New Jersey to get them. Now, thanks to word of mouth, those people are now coming here.” “Those people” include local educators, lawyers, stay-at-home moms,
even priests. While Californians may have embraced the idea of colonics decades
ago—pardon the pun—the movement is now just catching on around here.
A Brief History Colon therapy actually dates back to ancient times and has been recorded as early as 1500 B.C. in an Egyptian medical document called the Eber Papyrus. In early America, it was a commonly used procedure to help maintain optimum health and stave off disease. It is said that even Lewis and Clark were instructed on its benefits before departing on their famous expedition. In the early 1900’s, John H. Kellogg, M.D., used colon therapy on more than 40,000 of his patients in his famous Battle Creek, Michigan, clinic. Today, people seek out colonics in order to increase circulation, calm the nervous system and relieve headaches, food allergies, backaches, indigestion, colds and a variety of other disorders. “We like to think of the colon as the ‘other brain,’” Florimonte said. “The kind and quality of food we put into the body—and how well the body processes and uses that food—is crucial to every phase of existence.” When I lived out on the West Coast, I remember friends meeting for colonics like they would meet for lunch—it was quite the ‘in’ thing to do. Now here I was on my way to experience one myself and as I marched up the back driveway of Florimonte’s clinic, my knees started knocking…hard. Whatever was I in for?
The Ideal Ordeal “Welcome, welcome,” Florimonte encouraged as I walked through the door. The home’s setting—muted colors, natural light, soft music—exuded tranquility and I found myself becoming less and less nervous as my ethereal hostess showed me around. Florimonte is one of those women who embodies peach and serenity. Lucky for me, she also possesses a rather wicked sense of humor, which immediately put to ease the frazzled nerves of a novice visitor such as myself. To begin my cleansing and detoxification process, Florimonte had me sit in her Healthmate Sauna—a sauna that used infrared heat, which is usually found in sunlight. With a singlet oxygen energy tube up my nose, I settled in for my 20 minutes of warmth and, while sipping Alkalarian water to bring my pH levels in check, I perspired away at least a day’s worth of stress along with a bevy of toxins collected in my body. Although I regularly use a sauna at the gym, I have yet to sweat as profusely as I did in the one at Florimonte’s. I know, lovely visual. After a thorough shower, I was led upstairs to the lymphatic therapy room, where therapist Nancy VerBryck awaited my arrival. VerBryck explained the process of electro lymphatic drainage and what to expect. Admittedly, I was a bit pensive about the thought of using electricity to break down congested lymph in my body. The lymph system, by the way, plays a vital role in the body’s immune system, producing antibodies that destroy invaders while at the same time removing dead cells, blood proteins and other toxic materials. It is often referred to as the body’s “sewage system.” VerBryck explained that because of today’s sedentary lifestyle and poor nutritional selections, the lymph system becomes overloaded, congested and clogged. The lymph therapy VerBryck—and at a later session, therapist Melissa Russo—employed is tri-fold. The skin is thoroughly brushed and massaged, while an electric wand is passed over the lymph areas, primarily in the chest, neck, armpit, leg, back and head areas. Surprisingly, I found the entire process to be immensely soothing, and more than once, I nodded off to sleep on the table. Throughout the therapy, VerBryck would show me what was being collected on the wand from my body—a filmy substance peppered with white specks. I know, nice visual Part II. Afterwards, I felt completely re-energized and astonishingly “cleansed.” It’s hard to describe, but I felt like a car that had just had its battery jumped after going through a car wash. Why should we detox our lymphatic system at all? According to research (supplied by providers) possible applications of this therapy include the relief of headaches, intestinal conditions, sinus problems, edema, inflammation, infections and—my favorite—the reduction of cellulite. I was hooked.
Nice Visual, Part III Colonic time had come. Shuffling down the hall in my fuzzy bedroom slippers and robe, my knocking knees had returned. However, after only a few minutes of explanation and instruction by Florimonte, I was once again extremely relaxed. The colonic, she explained, uses 15 to 30 gallons—yes gallons—of water to flush out the entire five-and-a-half feet of colon. The patient lies on table, which is connected to the hydrotherapy machine, and the procedure lasts from 45 minutes to an hour. Before and during the process, Florimonte goes through a series of breathing exercises combined with massage to relax her patients. And, for your viewing pleasure, a sanitizing wall screen on the hydrotherapy machine allows you the opportunity to watch all the bad stuff (i.e., plaque, mucous, last week’s buffalo wings and the like) passing out of your system. Without going into further detail (since I’m tip-toeing already), I will summarize my adventure in colon hydrotherapy by saying this: It was peculiar yet invigorating; strange yet revitalizing. That night, I slept like the dead after Florimonte lead me through what she calls “colon aerobics.” It was quite the workout. Since then, I have felt significantly “lighter,” my skin is much clearer, and I’ve found myself eating healthier than ever since I don’t want to re-toxify my being. The entire experience relaxed, rejuvenated and refreshed me from head to toe. And, most importantly, it allowed me to bond with my colon. And that’s the end of the visuals.
electric city · February 6 – 12, 2003 |
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