I've read a few books on cancer - mostly loaned by friends and well-wishers. They are not usually easy reads because they have such strong opinions on the right path to adopt, often rubbishing your own chosen route. I understand that if you don't have cancer and read a book which describes an astonishing recovery, it is easy to see this as The Way, especially if you have concern for a friend who is suffering from their own ordeal with cancer. Most of these recovery stories are quite radical - I have yet to see a book titled: "How I Survived Cancer through Conventional medicine", although I don't doubt there are countless medical texts along that line. I have noticed how difficult it is for friends to hear my gentle protestations explaining why I won't be following alternative route xyz, yet I know their conviction is borne purely out of concern for me. Cancer (and I guess other life threatening diseases), has a profound effect on the individual and it is life changing. Right now, my chosen path is conventional medicine supported by a strong positive attitude. If you stop working, as I have, there is a plenty of time to ponder over what it really important in one's life and a number of life-style changes come to light including healthier eating, learning to devote more time to the mind/body/spirit and the realisation that being a workaholic is not likely to be the route to longevity. Once I had understood that I had made these choices, I felt fairly committed to my chosen path and other routes for healing seem like a distraction from a difficult and long process. That is not to say that I have ruled out radical diets, acupuncture, herbalism, etc. -- far from it, these alternatives are available to explore should my chosen route prove unsuccessful (and I am well aware that this is a possibility). A couple of weeks back a neighbour recommended "A Time To Heal" by Beata Bishop (a great name - perhaps more suited to denunciation of the church). This is the most challenging book I have read to date and I nearly gave up on it, but something kept me going and there were some positive conclusions to draw by the time I reached the end. The author had melanoma (an aggressive skin cancer) and initially follows a conventional medicine approach having surgery to remove a substantial tumour in her leg. This is partly successful, but the cancer persists and before long further tumours grow. At this point the author loses all faith in her medics and critically condemns western cancer therapy as cut/poison/burn (surgery/chemotherapy/radiotherapy). She is particularly disparaging about her own surgery which she describes as nothing short of mutilation.
This is challenging stuff to consider when you have been mutilated and are in the process of being poisoned; it challenged my convictions and made me feel a little depressed. The surgery is always major, because there is always more to remove than the tumour itself - 10-14 lymph nodes and a good deal of surrounding tissue is not unusual for colon surgery. It's a tight space and damage to surrounding organs is not uncommon. I don't have the same abdomen I had 8 months ago and even after the ileostomy is reversed I am aware that I will need to accept that many things will be not be as before. Fortunately I never was much of a beach hunk, nor did I have a cast-iron constitution, but I sure will miss that impressive 6-pack ;-) In the same way, chemotherapy is such a poisonous experience, most especially as the toxins accumulate. My blood tests show how much weaker my immune system is and the liver function is clearly not able to recover until treatment ceases as I become aware of extreme tiredness; a constant tingling sensation in my fingers and toes, blueish feet and countless dark spots on my skin. In my mouth, taste has died a sudden death and my tongue wears it's yellow fleecy coat long after weather conditions have improved. I know there is a good deal of truth in Bishop's words, but I don't want to hear it right now.
I talked to Sarah, which made things worse: supporting someone who loses confidence in their ability to win the battle is inevitably much harder than supporting a combatant with even the faintest whiff of victory ahead. But I wasn't giving up, I just felt a little battle sore. There were so many other weapons in my armoury which were not [yet] being addressed in the book: the mind and spirit are being exaulted like magical talismen and the body is being treated to huge amounts of rest. With a nod in the direction of the book, my diet is good and healthy, free of it's usual intoxicants of alcohol and stress and with a fraction of it's usual caffeine overload. Reminding myself of this, I read on.
My perseverance is warmly rewarded as the book reveals a number of late secrets...
Not relishing the idea of further surgery and chemotherapy, Bishop finds an alternative cancer treatment known as 'gerson therapy' which involves an extreme diet. After 8 months in an American gerson clinic, following the therapy religiously, Bishop is frustrated by her slow progress although she is clearly still convinced that the diet is the right thing for her. Gerson therapy is extreme and involves a total abstinence from meat and diary with almost exclusively raw food. There is a strict regimen which involves drinking freshly prepared, organic vegetable juices 13 times a day; taking 3 caffeine enemas to stimulate the liver and drinking only purified water. The liver is further supported by daily liver-derrived injections (although this has now changed due to the difficulty in obtaining these products). As she returns home, she employs help to prepare the juices and generally assist in running the house since the diet renders the patient quite weak. At this point, it strikes me that this diet is not altogether natural and could even be more intolerable than chemotherapy!
The author's condition does improve for a while, but she then suffers a further tumour which makes her question the diet hard before concluding that the missing ingredient is the holistic approach which was a familiar part of her life before becoming ill. Bishop reconnects with her Buddhism-based spiritual beliefs which helps her revive her confidence that the illness will eventually pass. With the help of a counsellor-friend she explores the original cause of the cancer and, through visualisation, she identifies that throughout her life she has carried a burden of resentment associated with her upbringing. She invests in more therapy to work through this and 10 years on she is free of cancer. The book concludes that gerson therapy, a holistic approach and identifying the root cause all contributed to her success in overcoming cancer.
Halleluja! Common sense at last; the closing chapters vindicate my own findings as I have found strength and courage in exploring the spiritual side in my own life including meditation and visualisation. I'll save the detail of the latter for another time, but suffice to say I made the same conclusion when I consulted my own life coach and now good friend, Nigel. I had the idea that I needed to come to terms with the daunting thought of the major surgery in front of me to insure against the embarrassment of running away from the operating theatre, screaming with fear at the last possible moment wearing nothing more than an open-backed surgery gown. Nigel largely ignored my request and instead urged me to dig deep within to try and identify the cause of the cancer. He guided me through a strangely uncontrolled visualisation experience which uncovered an unprompted sense of resentment. I subsequently analysed this and associated it with giving too much, never saying no and failing to find any time for myself - quiet and solitude.
A Time To Heal fully tested my own conviction almost to the point of giving up only to restore it again in it's final chapters: a challenging read became an extremely worthwhile read.
I find Nigel's "Blog at Bedtime" thought-provoking reading - you might like to check it out.
