Mandy Moon Land RN LMT

09/26/2025

Reflexology isn’t just about your feet—it’s about calming your whole nervous system so your body finally feels safe enough to let go.

It’s more than massage. It’s nervous system regulation.
✨ Touch lowers cortisol, boosts serotonin, and helps you feel grounded and balanced.
✨ Chronic pain often lingers because the nervous system is stuck in fight or flight. Reflexology helps quiet those signals.
✨ When your body feels safe, muscles release tension and open to relief.
✨ Activating the parasympathetic system shifts you into rest and digest—lowering stress levels, easing heart rate, and softening the whole body.

Your pain might not be just in the spot that hurts. Sometimes it’s your nervous system asking for a reset. Reflexology can be the key that unlocks that shift.

09/26/2025

Food can contribute to mental wellness. Filling nutritional gaps is essential for growth and repair. For example, magnesium, which is found in almonds or pumpkin seeds can help calm the nervous system. Eating too much sugar or caffeine over-excites your nervous system. Knowing which foods assist the nervous system can make the difference in the everyday choices you make. Above all, are you eating for pleasure or eating for vitality ? Food can give you dopamine or it can change your serotonin levels, both of which keeps you in balance. Asking yourself if the food you are eating serves you best or is it creating harm can be a good place to start.

09/25/2025

09/24/2025

09/24/2025

The messages in the images speak a deep truth. Autistic and neurodivergent people are not a deviation from humanity’s baseline. They are part of the fullness of humanity itself. To say that people with autism are defined not by limitation but by brilliance is powerful and real, because so many bring unique gifts, creativity, and perspectives that enrich the world. These reminders are necessary in a culture that too often reduces difference to deficit.

At the same time, the autism spectrum is exactly that, a spectrum. Alongside brilliance and creativity, there can also be profound struggle. Autism itself can bring challenges with communication, sensory processing, and social navigation that make daily life more difficult. For some, these challenges remain manageable with support, but for others, they are compounded by severe physiological suffering. This may include an inability to speak, repetitive behaviors that injure the body, extreme sleep disturbances that keep entire households in turmoil, or behavioral storms so intense that they result in harm to self or others. These are not simply emotional outbursts but expressions of deep physiological stress. Some may wander away from safety and be unable to communicate with first responders. Others may face digestive problems, seizures, or immune challenges that add layers of suffering. These realities are not rare but are part of the lived experience for many people on the spectrum.

When we name the gifts without the pain, we risk romanticizing and leaving behind those who suffer deeply. When we name only the pain, we risk dehumanizing and erasing the brilliance that is equally real. In both cases, we miss the truth of diversity itself, which includes the full range of human experience. The call is not to choose one narrative over the other, but to widen our vision enough to hold both truths together.

Neurodiverse and autistic people have always existed throughout history. What is often different today is the intensity of certain symptoms. Many of the most difficult experiences on the severe end of the spectrum are tied to neuroinflammation and systemic stressors. These influences may arise from a complex interplay of genetic expression, environmental toxins, immune challenges, and nutrition. They are not outside of autism but are part of the autistic story for many. For some, autism is expressed through creativity and brilliance. For others, it is expressed through profound struggle because the body is carrying extra burdens that magnify suffering. Understanding this is not about erasing autism but about facing its full reality and reducing the unnecessary pain that can overwhelm it.

This distinction is often lost in public health language. When agencies describe autism as a problem or burden, they are usually pointing to the very real struggles of those on the severe end of the spectrum. But in collapsing autism itself with the suffering that may accompany it, the nuance disappears. Autism as a neurotype is part of human diversity. The suffering many autistic people endure is often the result of bodies under stress, struggling to process environmental triggers or genetic vulnerabilities such as variations in methylation pathways like MTHFR, just name one example. Public health deserves a more accurate voice: autism itself is not the enemy. The real challenge is to create support and interventions that reduce unnecessary suffering while honoring identity.

Compassion means recognizing that medical intervention or deeper knowledge can sometimes bring relief, safety, and freedom. For some autistic or otherwise neurodivergent people, understanding nutrition, hormones, and gene expression can ease burdens. For others, identifying the role of environmental stressors and immune triggers can make daily life more manageable. Support, when freely chosen and aligned with the individual’s needs, is not about limiting diversity but about expanding it. True diversity means acknowledging the full range of lives that autism and neurodivergence create. It means not only celebrating giftedness but also responding to suffering with care.

This raises a deeper question. If autism and neurodivergence are part of the human story, is the idea of “neurotypical” truly a category in any fixed sense? We often use the word as if there is a single baseline of normal functioning. But in reality, every person carries unique patterns shaped by genetics, history, culture, environment, trauma, and creativity. Many who appear to fit within the boundaries of neurotypical life are simply masking, adapting, or performing in ways that society rewards. Conformity is not the same as sameness. What “neurotypical” really describes is not a biological reality, but a pattern of behaviors that happen to align with what society rewards. The privilege comes not from the person themselves, but from the way their way of being is more easily accommodated within schools, workplaces, and cultural systems. In this way, it mirrors how gender diversity exposes the limits of rigid categories like male and female, reminding us that human variation is always broader than the boxes we try to fit it into. The term “neurotypical” can still be useful in advocacy, as a way of naming whose needs society is most prepared to accommodate. Yet we must remember that no human life fits perfectly into a template of normal.

Too often, the public conversation about neurodiversity highlights the gifted side while silencing the voices of families and individuals who live with the most severe struggles. We hear stories of creativity and innovation, but less often do we hear about parents who stay awake night after night because their child cannot sleep, or adults who live in constant danger of hurting themselves or others without adequate support. This silence leaves an already vulnerable population even more isolated. True advocacy means making space for both realities, not only the ones that inspire or reassure us.

There is also an ongoing tension within the community itself. Autistic self-advocates often emphasize acceptance and the need to stop framing autism as a disease. Families living with severe struggles often cry out for recognition of suffering and better access to support. Both perspectives are true, and both deserve to be heard. Only by holding them together can we move toward a fuller and more compassionate vision.

Celebrating neurodiversity does not mean ignoring suffering, and treating suffering does not mean denying identity. The quotes remind us of the worth and brilliance that must never be forgotten, and the nuance of the spectrum reminds us to face struggle with honesty and care. The call is to hold both at once, to listen, to create safety, to reduce suffering where possible, and to embrace the full spectrum of human difference. That is what diversity truly means — not only rainbows and gifted creativity, but also the willingness to face the harder truths and respond with compassion and care.

09/24/2025

Roger Seheult, MD of MedCram explores oxidative stress and its relationship to autism and Tylenol. See all Dr. Seheult's videos at: https://www.medcram.com/(...

09/24/2025

When a medical professional says “XY = male, XX = female,” it may sound simple and definitive. That is the pattern most of us were taught in school, but human biology is far more varied.

Biological s*x is usually assigned at birth based on visible ge***alia. For most people, that aligns with their chromosomes, hormones, and development, so the categories of male and female work as expected. But biology is more complex than that. Some people are born with chromosomes, hormones, or developmental differences that do not fit neatly into male or female. This includes conditions like Turner syndrome, Klinefelter syndrome (XXY), androgen insensitivity, and conge***al adrenal hyperplasia. In those cases, relying only on ge***al appearance oversimplifies reality.

These variations are not curiosities but part of human diversity. They are not choices but realities written into human biology. Sometimes they are visible in the body, sometimes they show in hormones, and sometimes they are felt more deeply in identity and experience.

It is not only chromosomes that shape who we are, but also how genes are expressed. The SRY gene on the Y chromosome usually switches on to trigger male development, but if it is missing or silent, an XY person may develop along a female pathway. The opposite can also happen, where an XX person develops male traits because of shifts in gene expression. In other cases, the body produces hormones like testosterone, but the genes that allow cells to respond are inactive, so development takes a different course. In short, chromosomes set a starting point, but gene switches and hormone signaling help decide how development actually unfolds.

When the public is only given the simplified version, it is presented as the whole truth. That silence about complexity is not neutral. It narrows what is seen as real and leaves many misunderstood or dismissed. The public deserves better. Just as conversations about Tylenol and many other medications have moved beyond the oversimplified narratives of being “safe” or “one size fits all,” people deserve access to the deeper reality of human biology too.

History shows the cost of oversimplification. For decades, transgender people, especially those once called transs*xuals, could only access care under strict medical gatekeeping. To receive hormones or surgery, many were required to meet rigid psychiatric criteria, live publicly in a new role for extended periods, and conform to narrow gender stereotypes before approval. In the 1960s and 70s, clinics in the US and Europe quietly provided care, but only under tight control. Many were forced to hide, to live quietly, or to deny parts of themselves in order to survive.

For inters*x people, the gatekeeping looked very different. Instead of being denied procedures, many were subjected to surgeries as infants or children without their consent, sometimes multiple times, in order to force their bodies into the category of male or female. These interventions often led to complications, physical pain, and emotional harm. Unlike transgender adults who were told they must wait or prove themselves, inters*x children were never given the chance to wait and decide. Their rights to bodily autonomy and informed consent were taken from them before they were old enough to speak.

Over time, the word transgender came to be used as an umbrella term. It includes transs*xuals as well as many other people whose gender identity or expression does not align with the male and female binary. This shift was not only about language but about liberation. For much of the twentieth century, being transs*xual was pathologized, treated as a disorder that needed fixing, judged against rigid medical and social standards. The umbrella of transgender offered a broader and more humane understanding. It created space for gender diverse people to stand together under one shared identity, and it challenged the gatekeeping and stigmatizing frameworks that had kept so many people in the shadows.

This struggle is not only a Western story. Across cultures and throughout history, people who lived outside narrow definitions of male and female have existed. In some societies they were honored and integrated as part of the human story. In others they faced punishment under state authority. This is not just about one culture or one time period. It is a human story that stretches across continents and centuries.

Behind us is a record of persecution that cannot be forgotten. In the 1800s and early 1900s, homos*xuality was criminalized in much of the West, with imprisonment, loss of livelihood, and public shaming as punishment. In N**i Germany during the 1930s and 40s, gay men were sent to concentration camps under Paragraph 175, and gender nonconforming people were also targeted. In the United States, through the mid 1900s, police raids on gay bars led to arrest and humiliation. Authorities worked hand in hand to punish those who lived outside the binary. This is not distant history. It is within living memory.

And it is not only history. Around the world today, people who are transgender, gay, or inters*x still face imprisonment, violence, and death. In some countries, laws punish same s*x relationships with long prison sentences or worse. In others, public hostility and discrimination create unsafe conditions for those who live outside the binary. These realities are fueled by ideologies, political, cultural, and religious, that claim the right to control human diversity. The danger is not abstract. It is ongoing.

This is not about denying that XX and XY are the common patterns. We can name the usual pattern and still tell the whole truth. The public deserves complexity instead of slogans. People are strong enough to hold nuance, and it is far more dangerous to oversimplify than to share the deeper story.

The conversation about transgender care began with concerns about children in the 2010s but has now grown into restrictions for adults in the 2020s. Concerns about minors deserve discussion, but blocking competent adults from care removes medical freedom and patient choice. True medical freedom means respecting the right of individuals to work with their doctors and make informed decisions about their own bodies, even when those decisions do not align with another person’s beliefs. Too often, “medical freedom” is invoked only when it suits a particular viewpoint. Real freedom requires consistency. It includes choices you may not personally agree with, because the right to make those decisions belongs to the individual, not to ideology or theocracy.

To be human is to live with nuance. Clarity does not erase concern. It prevents harm. The public deserves nothing less.

09/23/2025

So much of what we hear about health these days gets flattened into soundbites. But what happens when the real story is more complex?

What are the headlines saying? That Tylenol causes autism.

But that is not what was actually said at the HHS autism briefing.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. did not declare causation. His words were far more careful and transparent:

“Autism is a complex disorder with multifactorial etiology.”
“The FDA is responding to clinical and laboratory studies that suggest a potential association between acetaminophen used during pregnancy and adverse neurodevelopmental outcomes, including later diagnosis for ADHD and autism.”

“We have also evaluated the contrary studies that show no association.”

“Clinicians should use the lowest effective dose for the shortest duration, and only when necessary.”

This is nuance. This is transparency. This is not the same thing as saying “Tylenol causes autism.”

It is true that President Trump’s direct and often blunt communication style complicates the picture. His use of sharp phrases such as “do not take Tylenol” and “it is not good” can trigger strong reactions and create confusion. This is nothing new, but it does make it harder for people to separate the careful, nuanced points Kennedy made from the soundbites that dominate headlines.

So why are headlines and some advocacy groups reducing this to black and white? Because oversimplification is easier to package and polarization sells.

In today’s climate, people often hear what they expect to hear depending on who is speaking. If you distrust Kennedy, you filter his words through suspicion. If you already believe Tylenol is harmful, you hear confirmation. Either way, the nuance gets erased and families lose the full truth they deserve.

Here is the broader reality:

Autism cannot be explained by one cause. It emerges through genetics, prenatal environment, and complex interactions.

Tylenol is not risk free. It is the leading cause of acute liver failure in the United States and it depletes glutathione, the body’s master antioxidant. These are established concerns that deserve open discussion, especially in pregnancy.

Transparency is not dangerous. What undermines trust is when institutions or media choose control over openness, reducing complex science into headlines that distort rather than inform.

This conversation is not just about Tylenol. It is about whether our health agencies and media trust people enough to share the whole story or whether they will keep controlling the narrative because nuance feels inconvenient.

Reflection Questions:

When you see a headline, do you pause to ask what was actually said and what was left out?

Why do institutions and media default to simplified messaging. Is it really about protecting people, or because polarization sells?

What would change if families were trusted with the full picture. Known risks, uncertainties, and conflicting evidence.

How can we hold both caution and compassion when we talk about complex health issues like autism?

Nuance is not the enemy. The refusal to share it is.