As I approach my brain scan, I am aware of fear. I desperately want the scan to reflect the treatments’ efficacy, for myself, for others affected by cancer, and for those who have supported me. How can I bear my fear? How can I dance in life while confronting a disease that represents death?

“Fear, what is inside of you? What are you made of?” I inquire.

“I am darkness interfering with your light. I am your desire to control. I am your doubt,” responds Fear. “I am not of your truest essence. However, I am of your creation. I represent your worst nightmares. And as with all dreams, they are manifestations of consciousness. You have the power to create another script.”

“How can I release you?” I ask.

“Dwell in your light. Embrace life. Maintain a strong, calm mind. Then defer to your heart. Love yourself. This time is one of great challenge. And, it is an opportunity for you to further cultivate your own strength,” says a voice inside of me. I don’t know if I’m speaking to Fear, or my own inner truth, and yet both seem to arise from the same source.

The voice continues, “When you begin to feel fear, dance with it. Look fear in the eyes. Ask what you are really afraid of. Is it really death, or are you afraid of life? As you engage fear, it will integrate into you and lose its power. You can also choose to ignore fear. Refusing to give fear power builds strength and character. However, fear will visit again until you learn what you need from it.”

“What am I really running from? What do I fear?” I inquire.

“I’ve held you through this pain many times. You are afraid of death. You are afraid of mortality. You are afraid of a brain tumor. And yet, death, mortality, and the tumor are your teachers. You have also been afraid of life, and now is the time to live it fully. The fear associated with the tumor loses its power when you fully embrace life and the truth of your existence, of your being,” the voice says.

“What is that truth? Who am I?” I ask.

“You are more than your physical body. You are more than your identity as Jeannine Walston. Your physical body is the host to a soul that continues beyond your physical death. In each physical incarnation, your soul learns lessons for its own development. Each life, and the experiences within it, are for your soul’s maturation. Know that your soul is full of infinite light and love. Dwell in that spaciousness, and there is no fear. There isn’t death or mortality. There isn’t even a tumor. There is only freedom,” the voice responds.

“But, I’m in this body, and I suffer. How can I cultivate inner peace?” I plead.

“By transcending the ego focused state,” the voice tells me.

“And, if I don’t need to have fear around the brain tumor, what am I missing? What do I need to heal? There is some perceived lack of, but lack of what?” I state grasping to suffering.

“There is no lack. Transcend the mind’s construct of ‘self.’ By trusting and surrendering to the higher power of universal light, you will connect with your innate wholeness and perfection. Within this light, there is eternity. This light comprises your soul. You are the light. Through this light, you inherently possess everything you ever truly need. By embracing the truth of who you are, there is boundless, pure freedom,” the voice gently assures me.

“You are so abundantly loved. You come from love, and are love. Give that love fully to yourself, and you will find freedom.”

My playfulness en route to the clinic last Monday felt like the last day of school. I quickly recognized it wasn’t. Between 12.5 million dendritic cells and emotional extremes, my final treatment visit of the six-month protocol was rather tumultuous. I chose to express some frustrations I’ve had with the clinic with poor timing. The clinic has been extremely busy in the aftermath of the Ode magazine article, has struggled to keep up with the number of patients, and even before the Ode article didn't follow up on my requests as well as some concerns. Some of my discontent came pouring out, and ended in an explosion of emotion for me. Dr. Gorter was in Egypt, and I will share my concerns with him in a scheduled meeting next week.

In the days after the vaccine, I’ve had intense headaches, a low-grade fever, fatigue, and sore throat. I’m not sure if I have the flu or an infection separate from the vaccine. Regardless, I’m very ready to have a break from all of these treatments and not feeling well.

I’ve been fighting for survival throughout at least my entire adult life. This often hasn’t left space for much else. I’m ready, yes ready, for something new.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve found a new stride of vigor and vitality. Life is moving within and around me, and I’m participating in both. Regular exercise, daily meditations, social outings, work routines, and other activities compromise my world here in Cologne. As life ebbs and flows, there are certainly moments of disequilibrium. And, I continue to practice that how I perceive and relate to any struggle is the key ingredient in what defines my experience. “Struggles” are for learning. Life’s tests are invitations into self-discovery and opportunities for development.

I finally received the results of my immune function testing, which improved in four months. My natural killer function was really low in June. As of mid-October, my natural killer cell count and function moved to within a desirable range, although this improvement could be from the mistletoe alone.

On Monday, November 20th, I will have my sixth dendritic cell vaccine. It is my last treatment of my six-month immunotherapy protocol. From there, I’ll have a MRI scan in several weeks.

Beyond the MRI scan, I know I’m healing on deep levels. I have worked really hard outside of the clinic on my healing process during my time in Cologne. These efforts have been equally important in my journey toward my highest state of health. In my estimation, the source of my health challenge hasn’t been the isolated tumor in my brain, but about imbalances throughout my entire physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual being. I continue to find my innate wholeness and truth within all of these areas. For me, healing isn’t about six months, but a lifetime.

As I approach my MRI scan, I’m learning profound lessons about courage. The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines courage as “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” My friend Leonardo refers to courage as the presence of faith and trust. I deeply believe in my own ability to heal. Although I’ve had many moments of fear when I think about my MRI scan, I know I’m fully capable of approaching the test, and more importantly any type of adversity in my life, with courage. Fear takes me away from my innate wholeness, confidence, and ability to succeed. When I embrace a mindset of courage, I feel capable of anything. In the past, I’ve been afraid to believe fully in my healing just in case I don’t, and to subsequently avoid disappointment. No more old ways. With courage, I believe.

My world has grown in the last year on many levels, including my community. Through the inextricable web of interconnectedness, one by one, person to person, old and new friends have offered support after learning about my circumstances and quest for healing. I’ve especially enjoyed reconnecting with friends from high school and college. One such friend is Jenny Ward, a beautiful soul who is the Owner, President, and Founder of Playward, a company with the purpose of reminding all people about the importance of joy and play. In her October 2006 newsletter, I was bestowed with a distinct honor when Jenny named me a “Celebrated Play Activist.” The following provides a snapshot of Jenny’s light in the world through her definition of play.

play
[Playward's definition]
noun: play is unrestricted BLISS. exploring without perceived right/wrong, or doing it perfectly. remaining OPEN to the unknown with glee, not dread. letting go of the need to control any part of our lives: relationships, our bodies, minds- and giving ourselves permission to experience moment to moment with the awe of a child. creativity without a goal. imagination. our perceptions on life.

In my words, LOVE BODACIOUSLY!!!

Since June, I’ve survived three months of twice weekly cancer treatments, two weeks of daily treatments, life in Germany, five weeks of a very uncomfortable rash with itchiness, a torrid summer without air conditioning, the World Cup, and now a fire!

Last Saturday morning at 1:30 am, after the rare evening during when I actually fell asleep before midnight, I heard shouting outside, people running up and down the stairs of my building, loud voices in the hallways, and pounding on doors. Since Cologne is a party city, and after my experiences with the World Cup, I simply thought a lot of inebriated people were causing a ruckus. I rolled over in bed for a brief moment, but the noise continued. On my ceiling above my dark curtains, I could see blue and white flashes of light from the outside. I knew something wasn’t right.

Thunderous footsteps approached my door and pounded intensely. In a half slumber, I ran to my entrance and looked through my peephole to see men in uniform. I opened the door.

“Kaku zulfunsttzzz friesloptic makpgassehilemtaauliek von mamusubcvrtzumnxz,” I heard.
“I don’t speak German!” I shouted.

“Fire, get out, fast, immediately, you must leave now!” I was told. “Now, fast, hurry! Take your keys! Take your keys!”

I slipped on my black shoes, grabbed my laptop, and a hat. Not my wallet, passport, camera, glasses, iPod, or cell phone. I understand why I took my laptop, but not the hat considering I already had one on my head that I wore to bed.

Still half asleep, I moved rapidly down the stairs from floor four, to three, to two, and then one. There was no smoke or signs of danger. Not knowing if fire would suddenly burst out from behind a wall, I exited my building with much relief.

A familiar crowd stood before me in the street. “The American, thankfully, she made it out, too,” read the expressions on some of their faces. Clutching my laptop, I walked toward them in my orange and red plaid flannel pajama pants. In an effort to appear more presentable, I quickly took off my bright pink and purple hat and replaced it with my mauve hat. With either hat, my outfit was doomed to clash. Noticing that my neighbors were all wearing regular clothes, I thought I must have slept through a lot of commotion.

On my street, dozens of fireman ran back and forth coordinating their attack of the nearby blaze. I could only see smoke from where I stood by my neighbors. The police interviewed me and asked where I was when the fire started. Considering I was the last person out of the building, the only one wearing pajamas, and without a bag containing personal belongings, I was clearly sleeping! The policewoman asked me if I was from England. “No, I’m from the United States,” I replied and wrote USA on her notepad.

One of my neighbors then approached me and explained in very broken English that a bus would take us somewhere warm. I really didn’t understand what bus, when, and to where.

I stood in the street staring up at my apartment. My mind wandered to the thought of losing everything I had in Cologne, minus my laptop, keys, two hats, pajamas, shoes, coat, and gloves. I stuttered asking one of the police officers if someone could go get my bag with my wallet and passport. He inquired with a fireman who said it wasn’t possible. For a moment, I thought about how cool it would be to buy all new clothes in Cologne.

I thought that I was glad I didn’t take time to do my dishes all day Friday. I then returned to my fear for losing everything. They are just things, I reminded myself.

I walked toward the streaming hoses of water to see flames bursting out of the two buildings next to mine. I watched a fireman climb a ladder and shatter a glass window with his ax. He climbed inside and grabbed the hose off the ladder behind him to fight the fire within.

Holding my laptop, I stood by several firemen behind a fire truck. One of the firemen said something to me in German. I said that I spoke English.

“Are you press?” he inquired.

“No, I’m not press! I live up there!” I explained pointing to the building next to the fire and the apartment just below the rooftop. My apartment is located about ten to twenty feet from where I spotted flames.

I moved to the other side of the fire truck and watched the flames from yet another angle. The top three floors of the building behind the one next to mine burned skyward. Another neighbor came up to me and said, “The firemen think they’ve contained the fire. They don’t think there are any people inside, but maybe some pets.”

The battle between fire and water continued with men in suits striving to control the flames. I watched the firemen in awe as several of them entered the burning building and worked to contain the blaze.

Ten or twenty minutes went by, and I turned around to see that all of my neighbors had disappeared! I was a bit stunned, and then pictured each of them inside some shelter dipping green tea, eating German pastries, soaking their feet in warm baths, and getting back massages. Not more than thirty minutes later, my neighbors reappeared with laminated cards attached to strings around their necks. A woman who lives in the apartment next to mine said something to me in German. I smiled. I didn’t ask any of them where they’d been. I simply laughed to myself over my mental image about their 2 am spa experience compliments of the Cologne Fire Department. It was the more entertaining reality.

Around 2:45 am, the firemen announced we could go back to our homes. I wasn’t in any rush. I waited to ensure the fire was extinguished.

Falling back to sleep just after 4 am, and rolling out of bed at noon, I spent my Saturday coming down from the shock imposed on my system the night before. I felt a level of trauma in my body. I was hyper alert, which echoed remnants of other traumas I’ve experienced. I thought about the shock that comes with a diagnosis of cancer, and the process of orientating to the new normal.

I was gentle with myself on Saturday. I created some measure of order by doing my dishes and cleaning my apartment. I rested on my couch. I went for a walk and had a bowl of soup at a café. I looked at the damage from the fire on the buildings next to mine. I noticed my neighbors peering out their windows. Everybody seemed slightly more connected to home, and with an appreciation for having survived something.

Sunday was for celebrating. I went to Art Cologne, an annual modern and contemporary art exhibition that featured amazing work from all around the world. Galleries from Paris, London, Vienna, Tokyo, Seoul, Milan, Istanbul, New York, Stockholm, Sydney, various cities in Germany, and more showcased some of their best. Pieces offered distinct colors, textures, boldness, simplicity, and some political commentary. The art reminded me of the countless ways to engage self-expression. There is no right or wrong, good or bad, only the universal need to honor each individual’s unique composition. And the exhibit attendees who graced the halls with their own beauty and flair added to the electric atmosphere. To end my outing, I delighted in delicious food with more pulsating life around me.

Dr. Richard W. Clapp, lead epidemiologist for the report, called for the U.S. “to follow the example of the European Union’s REACH program, which prevents the use of known or suspected carcinogens when suitable substitutes are readily available.” The U.S. government needs to take an active role in reducing the widespread use of chemicals known to cause cancer. And national cancer research organizations in the U.S. need to address environmental contaminants associated with cancer.

A few organized efforts in the U.S. are underway to raise awareness about and take action to reduce environmental causes of cancer. The Collaborative on Health and the Environment (CHE) is a diverse partnership of individuals and organizations working collectively to advance knowledge and effective action to address growing concerns about the links between human health and environmental factors. CHE emphasizes that precautionary measures that emphasize exposure prevention should be undertaken when evidence of the potential for harm to human health and the environment is scientifically compelling.

CHE is organized through over one dozen Working Groups, including Cancer, Electromagnetic Fields, Parkinson’s Disease, and Integrative Health, among others. Membership is free, and includes participation on a very informative listserv as well as conference calls. Their website features the CHE Toxicant and Disease Database, which is a searchable database that summarizes links between chemical contaminants and approximately 180 human diseases or conditions. Also provided are a number of peer-reviewed papers labeled by disease, including Brain Cancer.

Dana Flavin, MD, PhD, of the Foundation for Collaborative Medicine & Research refers to the environment, electromagnetic fields, genetics, lifestyle, and high stress levels as causes of cancer. Her evidence-based perspective is that each person has the potential to regulate many of these elements that are known to cause cancer. However, even when the individual is doing all the right things to safeguard health and promote wellness, Dr. Flavin emphasizes, “We are still fighting our environment.”

Along with the external environment, the internal environment is ultimately a major contributing factor to disease. Louis Pasteur, the famous French microbiologist and chemist, is most known for his discovery that most infectious diseases are caused by germs. His contemporary, physiologist Claude Bernard, disagreed with Pasteur’s scientific perspective on health and disease. Instead, Bernard advanced the principle of total body health as being directly related to the purity of the fluid environment in which the body cells dwell. Bernard’s theories are responsible for today’s knowledge on pH and how the nature of the microorganisms change as the body moves from an alkaline pH to an acidic pH. Bernard coined the French term “milieu interieur,” which means “environment within.”

On Pasteur’s deathbed, he said to his friend Professor Renon, “Bernard was right, the germ is nothing, the milieu is everything.” Pasteur realized through his life’s work that the body’s internal environment is responsible for health.

And this is why I don’t understand conventional cancer care. Along with their toxicity and long-term and late effects, conventional cancer treatments treat the symptom of disease, and not the root cause. Disease cannot be treated in isolation. Effective cancer treatments require treating the whole person with emphasis on the body’s internal environment.

What do I think caused my brain tumor? My answer is ultimately multifaceted. The bottom line is I simply don’t know. But, I do have some theories. I’ll share a few here.

Along with the toxins that the average American is exposed to, I was likely impacted by an additional burden of chemicals due to the illegal dumping practices and blatant disrespect of Ford Motor Company. I grew up in Ringwood, New Jersey, a town where Ford Motor Company dumped millions upon millions of gallons of toxic solvents from the late 1950s until the early 1970s. Elevated cancer rates have been documented as statistically significant in at least one of Ringwood’s communities. The home where I lived from age 2 until college is less than one mile away from this site. As a child and teenager, I also spent almost everyday of my summers swimming in a lake that is downstream from the identified toxic dumpsites. The Bergen Record printed several feature articles about the long-term impact on human health due to Ford’s corporate irresponsibility in a series called Toxic Legacy. A lawsuit is currently pending against Ford. The automaker recently tried to dismiss the case. Most importantly, a lot of toxic waste dumped by Ford in Ringwood still hasn’t been cleaned up. Although I cannot prove that Ford’s toxins contributed to the development of my cancer, I wonder how my health was impacted from an extremely toxic environment.

I know my internal environment has contributed to my health challenge. To start, my diet as a child was less than optimal mainly because I didn’t eat any vegetables. I simply believed I didn’t like them. The milieu interieur, or environment within, is strongly defined through the foods we eat. One version of the cancer diet is primarily live (uncooked) foods. Raw foods detoxify the body and strengthen the immune system. I have experienced this first hand. And yet, diet has been my biggest area of challenge in my wellness plan. On occasion, I engage in emotional eating, and haven’t had the discipline to always maintain a raw cancer diet. However, I continue to learn more and more about the utter necessity of a healthy diet in creating wellness and eliminating disease. For the times when I feel compelled to stray from an optimal diet, I’ve created a photo quiz for myself. Maybe you’ll take the quiz, too. Which photo has the healthy foods, and which photo contains foods that should be avoided??