My energy was so much better today. I took a nice walk with Sylvia. I regretted not having my camera with me to take pictures for the blog, so instead I’m including a photo of a rhinoceros from the San Diego zoo. Sylvia and I even did a couple of the Alameda staircases. (My neighborhood has seven staircases going from Alameda ridge down a steep hill to the street below and often when I take walks here I try to take in a few of them.) Sylvia has been a stalwart friend throughout this process. She now makes the long trip from St. John’s to my house by bus once a week to take me on a short walk with the aim of eventually going on longer walks. Sylvia is married to Martha and together they walk and hike and do all sorts of exercise. Sylvia can easily wear me out when I’m in the best of shape. However, I’m going to work up to five miles. She has a hike planned for me when I can get to that distance.
I’ve been reading Beth’s blog and her struggle with Crohn’s disease. My IBS is temporary, but I have a lot more understanding of how devastating it can be. Beth attributes her relatively good health to exercise and I realize that if I’m going to recover from this temporary bowel inflammation, I really need to get a regular program together, not the hit-or-miss approach of late. It’s hard to get motivated when I feel really exhausted, but a ten minute walk twice a day would be better than nothing. After this last chemo treatment, I didn’t get out of pajamas for three days.
I saw my naturopath, Barbara MacDonald, this afternoon. She hasn’t gone on leave yet. I was so grateful to have another appointment with her. She’s not going on leave until late March, so I’ll be able to see her after chemo to work on recovery. I don’t know how I would I would have made it through without Barbara and Lysanji’s help.
The allopathic medical model doesn’t work for me. It seems ridiculous in its assumptions. It uses poisons to treat disease. The whole model is a reflection of our culture where we wage war: war on drugs, war on poverty, war on terrorism. (As my young friend Aster points out, terrorism is a tactic. Saying “war on terrorism” is like saying “war on bombing.”) At any rate, declaring war on your body seems crazy to me, and that’s what chemo does. I prefer the paradigm that seems to be in the works to reawaken the mitochondria in cancer cells so that apoptosis will take place, which means that cancer cells choose to self destruct instead of living on forever, multiplying unchecked. They come back into master plan. They cease to be dissonant and the whole system moves toward coherence.
I think my system got out of balance when I tried to do too much, to take on too much. I was trying to save the world and in the process lost myself. I was nurturing without taking the time to be nurtured by others or to nurture myself. I was happy enough, but frenetic.
Anyway, chemo is such a crude tool. I decided that I wanted to live and thus I needed to use every tool at my disposal even if it was the wrong tool for the job. It’s possible to dig a hole in hard ground with a claw hammer. If it’s the only tool you have, then it’s better than your fingernails. Someday soon we’ll have a better tool than chemo, but in the meantime, I’m stuck with this one. Fortunately, I have some other tools in my tool kit like diet and supplements, the tools that Barbara supplies. I rely Lysanji’s incredible ability with homeopathy for help when I need it. I also have meditation, my support group, and my mind and body group. On top of that, I have a very supportive family and a wonderful group of friends. It takes a village to heal. Chemo has been a very intense process and it’s not over yet. But I’m so grateful that it’s not the only tool in my toolbox because by itself, it wouldn’t be much help. I know I’m going to survive this thing. I can feel it deep down that I will survive and there will be no recurrence. I didn’t used to know that, but I do now.
I’ve been reading Beth’s blog and her struggle with Crohn’s disease. My IBS is temporary, but I have a lot more understanding of how devastating it can be. Beth attributes her relatively good health to exercise and I realize that if I’m going to recover from this temporary bowel inflammation, I really need to get a regular program together, not the hit-or-miss approach of late. It’s hard to get motivated when I feel really exhausted, but a ten minute walk twice a day would be better than nothing. After this last chemo treatment, I didn’t get out of pajamas for three days.
I saw my naturopath, Barbara MacDonald, this afternoon. She hasn’t gone on leave yet. I was so grateful to have another appointment with her. She’s not going on leave until late March, so I’ll be able to see her after chemo to work on recovery. I don’t know how I would I would have made it through without Barbara and Lysanji’s help.
The allopathic medical model doesn’t work for me. It seems ridiculous in its assumptions. It uses poisons to treat disease. The whole model is a reflection of our culture where we wage war: war on drugs, war on poverty, war on terrorism. (As my young friend Aster points out, terrorism is a tactic. Saying “war on terrorism” is like saying “war on bombing.”) At any rate, declaring war on your body seems crazy to me, and that’s what chemo does. I prefer the paradigm that seems to be in the works to reawaken the mitochondria in cancer cells so that apoptosis will take place, which means that cancer cells choose to self destruct instead of living on forever, multiplying unchecked. They come back into master plan. They cease to be dissonant and the whole system moves toward coherence.
I think my system got out of balance when I tried to do too much, to take on too much. I was trying to save the world and in the process lost myself. I was nurturing without taking the time to be nurtured by others or to nurture myself. I was happy enough, but frenetic.
Anyway, chemo is such a crude tool. I decided that I wanted to live and thus I needed to use every tool at my disposal even if it was the wrong tool for the job. It’s possible to dig a hole in hard ground with a claw hammer. If it’s the only tool you have, then it’s better than your fingernails. Someday soon we’ll have a better tool than chemo, but in the meantime, I’m stuck with this one. Fortunately, I have some other tools in my tool kit like diet and supplements, the tools that Barbara supplies. I rely Lysanji’s incredible ability with homeopathy for help when I need it. I also have meditation, my support group, and my mind and body group. On top of that, I have a very supportive family and a wonderful group of friends. It takes a village to heal. Chemo has been a very intense process and it’s not over yet. But I’m so grateful that it’s not the only tool in my toolbox because by itself, it wouldn’t be much help. I know I’m going to survive this thing. I can feel it deep down that I will survive and there will be no recurrence. I didn’t used to know that, but I do now.
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