1.0
Verified
Asthma attack during ceremony, no first aide
July 2023, I left on Day 4 of my 11-day retreat after surviving the most frightening night of my life.
In the second ceremony, the Shaman doubled my dose from the night before. I knew I was in trouble because I heard my higher self clearly say, that if I didn’t get out, I would die. Physically I was having trouble breathing, I was too hot, my mouth was too dry. I was dehydrated. They told us to stop drinking at 3 pm and it was well past 8 pm, around 90 degrees with what felt like, 100% humidity.
I called Gigi over and told her I needed help getting out, but she tried to talk me into staying even though earlier they said we could leave. I knew I needed out, so I called Aum over. I couldn’t walk by myself.
He and someone else helped me out, I could barely walk and then collapsed outside the building. They surrounded me and I begged them to give me space, as I couldn’t breathe. They also blew essential oils in my face which I told them I didn’t consent to as I couldn’t breathe! I begged for a doctor, and they offered the sweet man who was a doctor in acupuncture, but I asked for a medical doctor. Pandorita is too remote and couldn’t get medical help for me. I begged them to call my emergency contact, which they didn’t because they didn’t have his number on file.
So I knelt in the grass, falling in and out of consciousness because they had given me too much of the “medicine.” I begged them to keep the ants from biting me because I couldn’t brush them off my body myself.
They didn’t give me first aid other than Aum checking my pulse. They didn’t offer coconut water to rehydrate me or even walk me to the showers to cool me down. I wanted an oxygen mask and a saline drip, and of course, they didn’t have that.
I was just there suffering, struggling to breathe, hoping I wouldn’t die.
5 am the next morning, not remembering how I got there, I woke up in my bed, alone, still high. I slowly struggled to get to the bathroom which was about 100 yards from the campsite. Then made my way down to the kitchen, through WIFI, and called my emergency contact. He coached me how to take care of myself. Get water. Find food to raise my blood sugar.
Afterward, I finally had the strength to make my way up the hill to where Gigi, Aum, and Montserrat slept. I was beyond angry. I wouldn’t go inside. I expected that I would be kept safe, not that I would have to beg for them to take care of me while they tried to intuit how to help.
Never ONCE did they think that I might be having a medical emergency. And they were high, too. Although Aum claimed he hadn’t partaken. Gigi admittedly did.
I never had asthma before, but I have had it ever since, and only recently when after months of having a cough that wouldn’t go away, I went to a specialist who confirmed that the ceremony with the ayahuasca plus tobacco was the initial triggering event.
My lungs may be forever damaged.
And never mind the mental damage of doing such strong psychedelics and then having to leave in the way I did without anyone to process it with me. I was so lost when I came back to the United States.
And Pandorita did not offer a refund. They paid for one night in a hotel in Santa Jimenez and the difference in changing my flights. Marco’s words still echo in my ears, “You were the one who wanted to do ayahuasca.” I was. I did, I had for years since I heard what a remarkable and healing experience it was. I did all my research much like anyone who is reading my review.
I expected that I would be safe and I was not. Nothing that I experienced was what I had read about. And I am sad about it all. I wanted it to be great, and I nearly lost my life.
Ayahuasca is unregulated. There is no legal recourse. There are no safety standards. And if you have a bad experience, there’s a lot of victim blaming and shame associated surrounding your negative experience. Everyone talks about their great experiences, but you’re pretty much shamed into silence if you don’t have a good one.
In the second ceremony, the Shaman doubled my dose from the night before. I knew I was in trouble because I heard my higher self clearly say, that if I didn’t get out, I would die. Physically I was having trouble breathing, I was too hot, my mouth was too dry. I was dehydrated. They told us to stop drinking at 3 pm and it was well past 8 pm, around 90 degrees with what felt like, 100% humidity.
I called Gigi over and told her I needed help getting out, but she tried to talk me into staying even though earlier they said we could leave. I knew I needed out, so I called Aum over. I couldn’t walk by myself.
He and someone else helped me out, I could barely walk and then collapsed outside the building. They surrounded me and I begged them to give me space, as I couldn’t breathe. They also blew essential oils in my face which I told them I didn’t consent to as I couldn’t breathe! I begged for a doctor, and they offered the sweet man who was a doctor in acupuncture, but I asked for a medical doctor. Pandorita is too remote and couldn’t get medical help for me. I begged them to call my emergency contact, which they didn’t because they didn’t have his number on file.
So I knelt in the grass, falling in and out of consciousness because they had given me too much of the “medicine.” I begged them to keep the ants from biting me because I couldn’t brush them off my body myself.
They didn’t give me first aid other than Aum checking my pulse. They didn’t offer coconut water to rehydrate me or even walk me to the showers to cool me down. I wanted an oxygen mask and a saline drip, and of course, they didn’t have that.
I was just there suffering, struggling to breathe, hoping I wouldn’t die.
5 am the next morning, not remembering how I got there, I woke up in my bed, alone, still high. I slowly struggled to get to the bathroom which was about 100 yards from the campsite. Then made my way down to the kitchen, through WIFI, and called my emergency contact. He coached me how to take care of myself. Get water. Find food to raise my blood sugar.
Afterward, I finally had the strength to make my way up the hill to where Gigi, Aum, and Montserrat slept. I was beyond angry. I wouldn’t go inside. I expected that I would be kept safe, not that I would have to beg for them to take care of me while they tried to intuit how to help.
Never ONCE did they think that I might be having a medical emergency. And they were high, too. Although Aum claimed he hadn’t partaken. Gigi admittedly did.
I never had asthma before, but I have had it ever since, and only recently when after months of having a cough that wouldn’t go away, I went to a specialist who confirmed that the ceremony with the ayahuasca plus tobacco was the initial triggering event.
My lungs may be forever damaged.
And never mind the mental damage of doing such strong psychedelics and then having to leave in the way I did without anyone to process it with me. I was so lost when I came back to the United States.
And Pandorita did not offer a refund. They paid for one night in a hotel in Santa Jimenez and the difference in changing my flights. Marco’s words still echo in my ears, “You were the one who wanted to do ayahuasca.” I was. I did, I had for years since I heard what a remarkable and healing experience it was. I did all my research much like anyone who is reading my review.
I expected that I would be safe and I was not. Nothing that I experienced was what I had read about. And I am sad about it all. I wanted it to be great, and I nearly lost my life.
Ayahuasca is unregulated. There is no legal recourse. There are no safety standards. And if you have a bad experience, there’s a lot of victim blaming and shame associated surrounding your negative experience. Everyone talks about their great experiences, but you’re pretty much shamed into silence if you don’t have a good one.
