Biographical History
From as early as I can remember, I wanted to practice medicine. Along the way, I was raised by a successful and giving physician father, inspired by a reverent humanist, and healed by a traditional sound healer who would redirect my vision to a naturopathic wisdom of life.
My earliest inspiration was my father, Dr. Byron J. Bailey, a great father, role model, world-renowned surgeon, educator, and leader in the field of head and neck surgery. He passed on to me the love of medicine and medical service. In his practice he never turned a patient away, seeing patients for free if they had no means to pay. Even into his 70s, he spends time in Vietnam and Cuba on medical missions to treat patients and teach the doctors of those countries the advanced surgical techniques done here in the US.
In college, I discovered the writings of Dr. Albert Schweitzer, who’s ethic “reverence for life” awakened me to the heart practice of humanitarianism, altruism and medical service as a spiritual practice. Schweitzer gave my practice a global vision and a sense of compassion and altruism. His biography inspired me to travel and to serve as early as my late teens with philanthropic public health projects in rural mountain villages in Guanajuato, Mexico. Since my early twenties, my heroes have been those who sacrificed as they dedicated their lives to eradicating disease and poverty where it was most needed.
In 1985, I finished my studies at the University of Texas at Austin and went back to my birthplace UCLA to study Infectious Disease Epidemiology and Tropical Medicine at the UCLA School of Public Health. My studies took me to Burkina Faso in West Africa where I studied the prevalence of a nutritional (vitamin A deficiency) related blindness (xeropthalmia) that was known to be aggravated by infection by the measles virus. It was the thesis of my maser’s studies that this condition was worsened by the live-attenuated measles vaccine as well. Our research would play a role in proving that well-intended measles vaccination campaigns throughout the world were leaving a trail of blindness in vitamin A deficient populations that could be remedied by providing vitamin A supplements with the vaccines.
In 1988, I finished my studies at UCLA and returned to Africa. This time I lived and worked for one year with former President Jimmy Carter’s Global 2000 Project as an epidemiologist on the Guinea Worm Eradication Project in Ghana, West Africa. The guinea worm is a pernicious parasite, acquired from drinking infested pond water, and targeted by the WHO for eradication because it is endemic to agricultural regions of the developing world, having a broader effect upon food production and local economies.
During my time in Ghana, a pivotal experience occurred in my life: I acquired malaria, which was highly endemic to the area where I was living. Our Ghanaian neighbors suffered continuously from malaria. My treatment was attended over by my balafone teacher, a traditional healer from northern Ghana, who used traditional African healing music and a tea made from a small bag of dried, tangled herbs. Among the northern Ghanaian tribes, the musician family lineages were also the healers. Music and medicine were inseparable.
The tea was extraordinarily bitter. A balafone (traditional xylophone) made from dried hollow gourds was played throughout the night next to my body while the effects of the bitter tea took effect. The music pushed me further into a deep healing trance, which along with a delirious fever, I lost consciousness and went into a long deep sleep. When I awoke in the morning the fever was gone, the malaria was gone, and so was my conventional view of medicine and healing.
From Africa, I traveled to India for a year. While there I studied Yoga, Buddhism and meditation, and in the process acquired 5 different species of parasites, all of whom thoroughly enjoyed my enteric environs, and nearly bled me to death. Severely hemorrhaging and losing strength, this time the healing was performed by an Ayurvedic practitioner in Tamil Nadu, South India who used herbs and homeopathy. I was so weak that I have only a vague memory of the actual physician, however, his treatment was successful at stopping the bleeding and I recovered.
Later that year the critters were back while living in Dharamsala in the foothills of the Himalayas in northern India. I visited a 65-year-old Tibetan Buddhist monk and practitioner of Tibetan Medicine at the Institute of Tibetan Medicine and Medical Astrology. The monk doctor spoke no English and I spoke no Tibetan. No problem, he read my pulse for 20 minutes with eyes closed and diagnosed me entirely through palpation of the radial artery. The herbal pills didn’t knock out the parasites completely (I didn’t remain under his care long enough to see that happen), but it did stop the bleeding and afforded me the time needed to finally make my way home for more intensive treatments.
All of these experiences further confirmed that medicine and healing is a relative and creative paradigm that in most cultures arises from natural understandings. But I also learned that the best medicine is a collaboration between the old and the new. After two years abroad, my experience with traditional forms of healing peaked new interests in Oriental Medicine and Ayurveda, which have been my life path since. Now 20 years later, I am enjoying a deeper understanding of the “reverence for life” through the lens of the “wisdom of life” teachings and medical practices of Ayurveda.