March 17, 2009: Although I had a lot to do every day at OHI, I also had time to rest and reflect on my health. Twice a day, I spent time in my room with a poultice of wheat grass pulp placed over the tumor. During this time, I would go to my healing center where I had previously received many helpers—animal, vegetable and immaterial—to aid my healing. In Southern California, I used my healing center in a different manner. During a guided meditation shortly after I arrived at OHI, I connected with a Chinese healer named Wing Lee. Wing’s specialty was doing hands on work with the tumor. Every morning before exercise and in the afternoon before yoga, I would take a handful of wheatgrass pulp and place it over my tumor. Then, I would go into a trance and invoke Wing Lee. Together we would talking with the tumor or imagining it shrinking. After about a week, I noticed that the tumor could no longer be felt on top of my pubic bone. Clearly, there was movement and change happening.

Two weeks into this process, I altered the work with Wing Lee to include actually going inside my tumor and sitting there. What did the tumor feel like from the inside? Did it have anything to say to me? What did I want to say to the tumor? Initially, sitting inside the tumor felt like being in a small room with dark purplish red walls. It was very quiet. There was a small amount of light, just enough to see my hands in front of my face. It felt like the tumor was resting after the assaults from three rounds of chemo. Finally, I spoke to it, saying, “We’re not going to be together for too much longer, so I’d like to summarize what I’ve learned from you.” No response from the tumor although I could tell that it had heard me.

What happened next and continued over the following few days was that I started to review the lessons I’d learned from the tumor. There have been many, and they include:

1) Learning to stay in my body. An aftermath of being molested was that I felt unsafe in my body. Scary things had happened that I couldn’t control, and I became dissociated from myself. I lived this way most of my life. After decades of not having me present, this tumor is a way that my body protests my absence. So, how do I stay in my body? First, I have had to learn how to recognize when I am dissociating. Then, I can start to bring myself back. Here's what I've developed in the past weeks: I imagine that my attention and my presence are attached to the bottom of my torso with a large button. When this attachment happens, I am located in my physical self. There’s a sensation throughout my head, neck, chest, abdomen and pelvis that I am present. Present means that I am more aware of my feelings and my immediate sensations. Sounds simple, but it has taken me a lot of work to achieve this, and I have the rest of my lifetime to stay in practice.

2) Accepting that I have harbored a lot of anger for a long time. Again, being molested enraged me. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want it to be happening. I didn’t know how to make it stop. Since I lived as a child with the person who molested me and the issue was never discussed, healed or resolved, I sat with my initial feelings for literally decades. The tumor helps me to focus on what happened and that I need to continue to take care of myself and my feelings.

I’m sure there are other reasons and lessons that will continue to reveal themselves as I do more work to get rid of the cancer.

To catch you up on what’s happening medically, my friend Eileen and I met with my primary caregiver, Dr. Capaldini last Thursday and we discussed my current state of health and my upcoming visit with Dr. Jahan. Basically, I feel a lot better after returning from Optimum Health. My fatigue is less, although I still have to deal with it on a daily basis. Next Monday, March 23rd, I go to UCSF for another round of PT and MRI scans. Then, on April 1st, Eileen Lemus and I will meet with Dr. Jahan to review the results of the scans. From everything I can tell, there has been tumor shrinkage over the pubic bone. Also, the tumor has definitely changed shape in the middle of my pelvis. I hope that the rest and relaxation has given my body the boost it needs to heal itself. Typically, I don’t hear about the results of the scans until I’m in the doctor’s office, so I won’t know anything until April 1st.

Prior to that, I plan to be in Portland, Oregon on the last weekend in March for my Mom’s memorial service. We are planning to celebrate her life at St. Barnabas Church, where she was a member of the congregation for over fifty years. There will be an Episcopal service and my sister, and I will both speak about knowing Mom through the course of our lives. I have to say, I am looking forward to speaking and honoring my Mom. She was a really fine, loving woman and there will be a lot that I want to say to thank her.