Letting Go

It's November, the trees are bare, and the days are short. A good time for hibernation, "letting go" and waiting for miracles.
In my journal, I wrote down some words on the subject of "letting go". This means in no way to "give up", but rather to practice non-attachment to the things I cannot control.

Letting Go
Letting go of the past and the future. There is only "now".
Letting go of the need to be in control. I will never be in total control of everything that happens to me and around me.
Letting go of old habits and unhealthy beliefs. They no longer serve my health and well-being.
Letting go of perceptions and interpretations. They are not reality.
Letting go of the person I thought I was, and embracing the person I am becoming.
Letting go of the desire to know the outcome of my journey. This freedom enables the body to do its own healing.

On the physical side of things (which constitutes an important, albeit small portion of my entire being), I had been living in limbo for almost a month. As a result from an oral chemo treatment, one type of white blood cells in my body got knocked down way below normal levels, and couldn't recover, and therefore I could not resume the treatment. I have been trying to obtain word from our extended health insurance whether they would cover a (costly) injection drug that would boost production of those white blood cells. The answer is still pending. Thanks to another survivor who advised me to ask at the local hospital community care unit, and thanks to the compassion and understanding of their staff, I have now received my first injection and can move forward again.

By no means do I expect the medical treatment to be the "long-term cure", and, statistically, there is no guarantee for that (on the other hand, who knows anyways???) However, I acknowledge that it can be a catalyst to help my body rid itself of the deformed cells. The absolute final healing is up to the highest power I know of, and that is God. In a way this is a valuable lesson in humility. We are only human. We do not have all the answers. We are not all powerful. We are not in control of everything. However, this should not make us fearful or despairing. It opens us up to the possibility of GRACE.

I am ending with a quote by Richard Rohr, which aptly describes my situation.

"When we are nothing, we are in a fine position to receive everything from God."

- Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs

Humbling Experiences and Healing Cards

October has come around and the leaves have lost their golden hues and withered due to an unexpected severe frost. Like the leaves, I feel I have weathered and withered - not from frost, but from physical suffering. In September I decided to try a new treatment because the situation in the liver was getting serious. I experienced the first physical symptoms from the disease, and needed to act. However, the combination of the symptoms and the new treatment were almost too much for my body. My energy almost bottomed out, and with treatment side effects and pains, the situation was getting rather scary. The energy loss was the scariest experience. I use the analogy of a climber who reaches Everest and then barely has the energy to get down again. That's how I felt after two weeks on the treatment.

Suffering taught me humility. I realized that I am not in control of everything in my life. It's humbling to experience plunging from being fit and active to feeling totally spent and listless. To transcend the physical suffering, I had to find ways to detach my mind from what's happening to the body, otherwise, the mind was getting too caught up in the physical symptoms and started to go into negative self talk. However, I realized that the mind couldn't be always relied upon. The same mind that could take me to a peaceful place could in the next moment pull my spirit down with negative self talk. I realized that only by going beyond the mind, and praying to God, the creator, could I truly transcend suffering and find peace.

Now I am feeling better because I am in recovery mode from the treatment. Still, the humbling experiences continue. Two laps of front crawl in the pool and I am breathing hard. A thirty minute walk and my shoulder muscles are in pain. My biceps are gone. My back hurts. I am trying to regain some level of fitness and I feel I am starting from scratch. That's life - we fall, and pick ourselves up again, and again...

Before the body challenges really ramped up, Jacob and I managed to visit one of my favourite lakes (Lake McArthur) in Yoho National Park. Hiking there with a compromised body was another humbling experience. I never have appreciated reaching a goal as much as I did when we got to that lake.

I have made small "Healing Journey Cards" and handed them out to friends and family, after a neighbour told me the following story: a friend of hers has a three-year old boy who was diagnosed with leukemia. The family and friends got together and made bracelets and cards with positive statements such as "he is healed", "he is totally healthy and well", etc. They handed out the bracelets and cards and instructed everyone to whenever they touched the bracelet, to read the statement on the card. The boy had one month of medical treatment. Then there was a diagnostic test, and the doctors couldn't find any cancer! This story inspired me to create my own Healing Journey Cards with a picture of myself and the words: "Please help me on my healing journey. When you think of me, picture me as being HEALTHY, HEALED, and HAPPY. I greatly appreciate your prayers and positive thoughts."

I hope this idea will inspire others to do something similar that will help them on their path to healing. Never underestimate the power of positive thinking and prayer!

A Motto To Live By

Hello! August has come and gone, and I didnt' take the time to update this blog. I've been too busy looking after my health, staying as active as possible (swimming, hiking, paddling), and dealing with occasional body challenges, mainly stomach- and back-related. My little word of wisdom: Celebrate the days when your body feels NORMAL!

The weather in August has been fantastic for the most part, and Jacob and I managed to enjoy the great outdoors, paddling on mountain lakes and the Bow River, and hiking to some beautiful places. We also had two wonderful days with my friend Emiko from Japan. Thank you, Emiko, and I pray that we will meet again!

Then I had a diagnostic test, and the results were not as good as I had hoped for. Oh well, you can always find something positive within the not so good. However, I haven't managed to stabilize the situation in the liver. Those dum-dum cells are still marching along, doing their own thing. So, it was time to reassess my whole treatment plan (medical, naturopathic, mind-body and everything else I am doing). After consulting with all my health care practitioners, I have decided to change my medical treatment, and to see what happens.

I feel blessed to have some competent practitioners on my team, who are respectful of my choices. I am also very grateful for the support from my cancer coaches Erin and Alan. No matter what happens, they are there with encouragement, wisdom, and inspiration.
And, I acknowledge that I need God's help in all this. I am keenly aware of my limitations. Humans can fly to the moon, do heart transplants, climb Everest without oxygen, but so far, they have not been able to get rid of the deformed cells in my body (and the doctors tell me they don't have the tools or knowledge to do this when dealing with metastatic disease.)

I keep on living, one day at a time, trusting in my body's healing ability, trusting God, who made everything there is, including the cells in my body.

When I was at the Simonton Center in March, Dr. Carl Simonton shared his wisdom in a motto:
I WANT TO GET WELL
I CAN GET WELL
I AM READY TO DIE TODAY.

I think that's a very wise motto to live by. I endeavour to be mindful of it every day.

Bodily Adventures

It's the height of summer in the Canadian Rockies and I'm spending minimal time in front of a computer.
I've had a wonderful one-day, silent retreat at The Hermitage, a cabin on the properties of King's Fold Retreat Centre, north of Waiparous, above the banks of the Ghost River. A true place for healing and feeling close to God.

However, right after the retreat, all kinds of adventures happened to my body.
First, it was prolonged, severe stomach cramps that eventually convinced Jacob and me that we needed to go to the hospital. Painkillers did the trick and "switched off" the symptoms. In the following days, it was soreness in my lower back, alternated by a few more, not so severe, stomach upsets, that let me know that the body wasn't happy.
I agreed that we need to get a CT scan sooner than later, but until that's done, I do not want to go into all kinds of negative speculations as to the cause of my symptoms.
In the meantime, my doc and I agreed that I can take a break from one of the drugs in my arsenal (because it has a record of causing bone pain and stomach upsets). We'll see what happens.
These latest bodily adventures have made me very appreciative of the days when my body feels "normal". For whatever reason, my "earthsuit" is giving me all kinds of messages. It is my task to decipher them, and to do everything I can to support the body's own healing powers.
I am still reading The Presence Process - a profound self-study for emotional healing, and I am hoping to do more spiritual work in the fall.
As for now, I am happy when the body is happy, so I can hike and swim and enjoy the summer.

Yesterday, I called the Simonton Cancer Center and learnt that Dr. Carl Simonton passed away suddenly on June 18. I am very saddened, but I also feel blessed to have been able to meet him during our time in Santa Barbara in March. Dr. Simonton ("Carl" as we called him) had a wealth of wisdom and experience to share, and his program is a lifeline to anyone dealing with cancer. I will try my very best to become an honour student of his program.

Well, this is a short blog, and no pictures, either. I'm still looking the same, perhaps a bit thinner. My next short-term goal is to gain some weight without ditching my healthy eating habits. So, it's avocadoes, nuts, olive oil, healthy grains, whole milk yogurts and more.. Yumm.

The adventure continues. Stay tuned.

Back from Europe

Hello again. Sorry about the long silence, but I've been away in Europe (Germany and Greece), and upon my return, I needed some time to get back to normal before sitting down in front of my laptop to continue this blog.
Southern Germany was lush, green, and orderly. What I enjoyed most: Early morning walks along the edge of the forest (the birds were incredibly vocal!); biking on dedicated bike paths; walking a short section of the Jakobsweg (a pilgrims' route that eventually spills into the well-known Camino de Santiago); the huge salad bar at Bio-Hotel Eggensberger (www.eggensberger.de) in Bavaria, singing folk songs with my friend Rita, who accompanied us on her guitar; mom saving the first ripe strawberry from the garden for me; dad lighting a candle for me in a church in Bavaria; swimming in the Freibad (outdoor pool) in Schwaebisch Gmuend (50-metre, eight lane pool, plus a separate recreational pool, a diving pool, lazy river and waterslide -- all stainless steel!)
What I struggled with: compromised diet (not as many fruits and veggies as I would have liked. Mom's garden wasn't ready yet to yield its goodies except for lettuce and strawberries.) Having to find alternatives to breads, pastries, and cold cuts (my substitutes: pumpernickel bread, cheese, tomatoes, radishes, and sometimes green salad). I admit that this dilemma was partially my fault. I found it too much effort to acquire the ingredients necessary to cook my own recipes, especially since the local food store had a limited selection on fruits and produce.
I enjoyed Greece, even though my experience was limited to one island: Samos. What I liked the most: Swimming in the Mediterranean at Kokkari (refreshing!), the profusion of flowers; the white-washed houses with blue shutters; the pedestrian-friendly towns (many streets and alleys could only accommodate pedestrians or a motorscooter); Greek salad with a slab of feta on top; hiking to mountain villages; the beautiful Greek Orthodox churches; the Greek word Kalimera (Good Morning).
Now I am glad to be back in the Rockies (spring has finally arrived), and to my green smoothies and yummy low-glycemic foods. The kale in the garden is growing, and we already harvested some awesome spinach. At a later date, I hope to talk a bit more about nutrition and cancer.
On June 12 I had a meeting with my oncologist to find out the results of some diagnostic tests I had right after my return from Europe. Well, the results were not exactly what I had hoped for, but I am feeling well, eating well, sleeping well, so it's best not too worry too much.
I've probably said this before, but I say it again: do not give cancer too much power (I now call my cancer "the little wake-up puppy that barks once in a while to keep me on my toes). Don't spend too much time thinking about it, and mulling over medical test results. Of course it is important to research your options, and to make a treatment decision that's right for you, but once that's done, then let it go and move on. Recently, I have been feeling impatient to get the medical stuff and the treatment decisions out of the way, so that I can focus on things that have become much more important, and rewarding for me: doing inner work (I'm starting a book called The Presence Process -- more about it at a later date), meditating, connecting with God (I am re-reading Thomas Keating's books on Centering Prayer), and sharing experiences and insights with wise and inspiring individuals, some of them cancer survivors themselves.
What else have I learnt so far? That my body is like a newborn baby that needs lots of TLC. I need to feed it properly, treat it with kindness, and listen to and respond to its voice, no compromises allowed. I am convinced that complete healing from cancer is possible. I've heard enough stories now of people who have done it. This is encouraging and comforting. Wow, I don't even need to be a pioneer. However, for most of the"cured" individuals, healing did not occur from medical treatment. They had to find their own path, requiring lifestyle and diet changes, and doing deep inner work that led to emotional and spiritual transformation. I know this sounds esoteric to most people, but living with cancer has definitely enabled me to stretch my beliefs.
So, I keep moving along on this winding road, trusting in the Creator, and acknowledging the speed bumps and potholes as necessary signs that occasionally new decisions need to be made, and new lessons to be learnt.

Beauty, Empowerment, and New Lessons

"...splashes of California poppies. These too are of a burning color--not orange, not gold, but if pure gold were liquid and could raise a cream, that golden cream might be like the color of the poppies." (John Steinbeck, East of Eden, 1952)

April 1, 2009 - one year after D-day (diagnosis day) and Jacob and I are back from California. We participated in the Simonton patient program, an intense five-day psycho-oncology workshop for cancer survivors and their support person. In group therapy sessions and individual sessions, we explored how emotions and beliefs impact our health, and how we can deal effectively with the stresses of living with cancer (for more details, go to www.simontoncenter.com).

I was familiar with most of the topics, because I had read Dr. Simonton's books and listened to several of his CDs prior to coming to the program. However, what I appreciated most was the sharing with the other participants, and the openness and close friendship that developed. I also appreciated the individual sessions with Dr. Simonton and one of the therapists. After taking this program, I do believe that it is possible to heal from Stage IV cancer!

The place where Jacob and I stayed is a retreat centre called La Casa de Maria, located in Montecito, in the hills above Santa Barbara. This place is an absolute paradise. The extensive grounds house buildings for guest accommodation, a dining hall, conference rooms, a small church, a meditation chapel, walking paths, gardens, an outdoor labyrinth made from stones, a small swimming pool, and an organic orchard (oranges, lemons, strawberries!). The scent of flowers was everywhere. La Casa de Maria (built in the 1950s by catholic sisters ) is internationally renowned as a sacred place for people from all faith traditions and walks of life who are interested in personal and spiritual growth. Being in such a beautiful place, within a supportive atmosphere, I felt calm and inspired.

After the program was over, we rented a car and explored the Salinas Valley, Pinnacle National Monument, some of the old Spanish missions, and then drove to the coast. From Carmel, we followed Highway 1 south, down the Big Sur back to Los Angeles. The coastline was stunning: jagged rocks pounded by white surf, sandy beaches with huge breakers rolling in, and yellow poppies on the slopes of the green Santa Lucia mountains. Among the various wildflowers, we identified Shooting Stars and Indian Paintbrushes, which we only get to see in the Rockies in July. However, I realized that traveling on the road to find such beauty, had its price. Food choices became limited because we didn't have a camping stove nor a cooler with us. One morning, breakfast was cold rice and Thai noodles from the previous night's dinner - a far cry from my usual bowl of hot oatmeal with applesauce, cinnamon, berries, yogurt, topped with ground flaxseeds. There were days I didn't get more than two servings of fruits or vegetables, and sometimes I drank chlorinated tap water--arrgh! Now I know that this kind of traveling -- moving from one place to another every single day, doesn't work for me right now. My body feels better if I stay in one place for a while, and have consistent, healthy food. Another lesson learnt.

While we were still in California, my body acted up (no need to go into details), and now I know it was a side effect from the endocrine therapy drug I had been taking. I stopped the drug half-way through our trip, and have not been on it since. This episode led to a trip to my family doctor upon our return, followed by two diagnostic tests. I am confident that I do not have endometrial cancer (one of the nastier potential side effects of this drug), but the results are still pending. For now, I am glad that the symptoms have finally subsided, and that so far my doctor hasn't prescribed yet another drug (who wants to be a guinea pig every three months?)

All in all, the trip was a good experience. The Simonton program was empowering, and I am committed to continuing with the practices and tools I have learnt there. I am glad Jacob came along because before this trip, he had been more on the sidelines, looking in on my various explorations and practices. Now, he says he has a better appreciation and understanding of what I am trying to do. Although I realized that traveling has its challenges, and that staying at home, eating real food is best for me right now, there is one more trip planned this year: a visit to my family in Germany. (I call the trip to the Simonton program and the family visit "necessary journeys"). At least, in Germany, we are not planning to move from place to place every day. Most of the time we will be staying in my hometown in Southern Germany. The only side trips planned are a family get-together at a wellness hotel in the Bavarian foothills, and one week on an island in Greece. After that, I think I will be content to sit at home, watch the garden grow, and enjoy the summer in the Rockies. The journey continues...
In Beauty I Walk
With beauty before me I walk
With beauty behind me I walk
With beauty above me I walk
With beauty all around me I walk
It is finished in beauty.
(Navajo night chant; on the wall of our room at La Casa de Maria)

A Sliver of Grace

Well, here I am in the Year 2009 and doing well. However, I did have a bumpy start to the New Year with a bad sinus cold over the holidays, followed by a three-day flu with fever. Patience isn't one of my virtues, but it's a good one to learn when you're feeling sick. When I was in recovery mode, I received Dr. Simonton's book The Healing Journey, which I had purchased from the Simonton Cancer Center. This book has been a Godsend. It is co-authored by Reid Henson, a long-term (35+ years!) cancer survivor. His insights and experiences, shared in the form of letters, have touched me deeply and inspired me to follow in his footsteps. Adopting the attitude of being a "student of life", transforming unhealthy beliefs into healthy beliefs, and, most important, connecting with God. This might sound strange, but I, like Reid Henson, have come to realize that human beings do not have a solution for my health problem, and therefore, I decided to appeal to the highest power there is -- God. My daily practice of meditation, prayer, and sitting in stillness, has helped me tremendously in dealing with the mental and emotional aspects of my health condition. Instead of anxiety and fear, I have encountered feelings of profound joy and peace. I have realized that for most people, when life goes smoothly, they do not seek God. Most of us are too busy with DOING, and don't seem to have the time or take the time for BEING, including stillness and meditation. However, based on my experience, these are some of the practices that can connect us with a higher power/God/spirit, and expand our lives. This doesn't mean I have found all the answers to questions about the meaning of life, God, death, religion etc. All I can say is that this practice has helped me to stay grounded while dealing with the challenge of cancer, and to experience joy and peace in the midst of adversity.

On the physical side of things, I kept fit with cross-country skiing and participating in an adult fitness swim program. In February, my sister Ulli and I went on a three-day backcountry ski trip, staying at historic Skoki Lodge in Banff National Park. Then, it was back to swimming, but I got another cold. Another lesson to be learned: explore and set your new physical boundaries.

Before the next diagnostic test, I took up a friend's offer to join her at a prayer meeting of her group. Although I didn't agree with some of the "religious" views of some of the group, I appreciated their sincerity when they prayed for me. They told me that I was "healed" and I decided to believe that. And here is the good news: On March 6 I had a meeting with the oncologist (this is oncologist #2 -- in January I decided to switch oncologists because the previous one had not been supportive) and learned that the ultrasound results showed that the liver lesion has slightly decreased in size. This is better than what I had hoped for. Others have tried to achieve a similar outcome with chemo and didn't get a response at all. I am grateful for all the support I have been given so far, through friends and family, supportive health care practitioners, books that came my way, workshops that I stumbled upon, meaningful conversations with strangers, and yes, prayer.

What I have learnt so far this year: life is much more than what most of us think it is. If we expand ourselves by going beyond our horizon, by stretching our beliefs, allowing our inner voice to surface, and by giving God/Spirit a chance to connect with us, we can reap immeasurably. Now, the key for me is to stay on my path, wandering along on this twisty-turny road, trusting that God will be my guide. The next adventure is already around the corner -- we will be participating in a program at the Simonton Cancer Center in Southern California. I can't wait!