Weird isn't it?
Statistically, of anyone born after 1970, 1-in-2 will have suffered or will be seeking to find other ways to help sufferers ... of cancer.
I'd just like to share a few of the ideas that went through my mind when confronted with what was then the horror. Ideas which many of us might might then have.
Cancer charities? Well, they've had a fair crack of the whip now. You'd think, wouldn't you, that having had not three million, not three billion, but 3 trillion dollars $3,000,000,000,000 to spend on ground-breaking results, analysing the contents of their Petri dishes, looking through their microscopes ... that something significant would have turned up? But the statistics get worse: of every two people, one will suffer cancer. Is their analysis an anal irrelevance?
The strange words in the hollowed halls of modern medicine are so puzzling. I was thinking, "I haven't the foggiest what they're talking about. I need to learn more about it." I figured that the cream floating at the top of the medical profession obviously must know something I don't. They know the meanings of those fancy words, and after all, they're the professionals when it comes to health, right?
Right?
But the more I learned, the less sense it all made. The world full of wonder, of drugs to compensate for the effects of other drugs. The complex interactions of these with body chemistry. Does anyone really understand the full result of putting sticky plaster on top of sticky plaster? Doesn't the flesh beneath it turn white, pulpy and unhealthy?
Am I insane even considering an alternative, when surely it's so bleedin' obvious I'm on the right road back to health, and all the regulated, 'reliable'?, information points to alternatives as being quack cures? Surely, my God, can the stuff they've been taught, and are intent on using, really be killing me? Is this a conspiracy? Could it really be that they aren't cream at all, but more akin to the flotsam on the surface of the bathwater?
How true any of this is, is a matter of conjecture, a part of the cancerous dream we're in, whatever we can grasp, even if it's only a floating straw, in order save our life. Do I believe the hype that's often printed in newspapers of the latest discovery pointing to a promissory future of a world that's cancer free? Even if I do, of what use are they to me here, now, the sufferer? Am I asleep or awake?
Who's ultimately responsible for their own health, when we've been educated to believe that there is always someone else to point the finger at? This is the moment of awakening. There's no coming back and saying to the oncologist, "but YOU said, YOU PROMISED!"
There was once a series about the medical profession on television. Older ones among us will remember it, "your life in their hands."
It can be a scary moment when you realise that your life, the state of health in your body, is now in your hands. Surrendering control to my 'superiors' had I been an insecure little boy all of my life?
In this, cancer has for me been a life-changer that I'm grateful for. At the time it was very fraught, loaded with alternating possibilities of right or wrong decisions. I fortunately made the right ones, abandoned chemo and tackled those mistreated cells with the loving attention that they deserved rather than poisoning them further. Inevitably some of them will have sadly passed away, but the one's who weren't totally committed in their rebellion against bad government have, I feel happily, rejoined the body economy.
What have I gleaned? If you don't take command of your own body, someone else will be only too happy to adulterate it for you.
Never forget.
You are in charge of You.
Best wishes to all, with whatever contribution you make towards the health of your own bodies.
Love,
John
***
"Awake! For morning in the bowl of night,
Has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight,
And lo! the hunter from the east has caught
The sultan's turret in beam of light."
[from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam]
Has your internal hunter yet lit up
the crazed turret of today's medical structure?
