Everyone has Cancer!

Ranjan in a submarine March 2015

It has been long since I wrote on this blog as it is an actual case of 'no news is good news'! However I pick up my virtual pen again because of a very scary trend I am seeing around me that may become fashion and then routine as it suits vested interests and fills greedy pockets. I am talking about the second elective surgery that Angelina Jolie has undergone. After opting for double mastectomy, she has undergone surgery to remove her ovaries and fallopian tubes again to ward off a risk of getting ovarian cancer. This is something I cannot understand and accept. I speak with responsibility because after having lost my parents to cancer, and having my husband diagnosed for Stage II lymphoma, I have spent all my waking hours finding about what we know as cancer and the findings have demystified the rogue and turned the elephant in a room to at most a fly! What is even more disturbing is a medical advertisement on Indian TV propagating the option of elective prophylactic surgery to ward off cancer. When a celebrity endorses something, it catches the eye of predators who set to work. So if we were to take this idea to the absurd why not remove stomach, liver, lungs and anything else that may become home to cancer cells. And let me tell you something should any one of us take certain tests, we would all be detected with cancer, as each one of us has cancer cells in us and thus is predisposed to cancer. As conventional medicine has ensured that many of us are kept in the dark about alternative therapies that range from diet and lifestyle change to herbs and potions, we can be duped into taking extreme measures that will do us more harm than good.

Everyone literally has cancer! Our cells make mistakes and these mistakes make the cells look like cancer. Mercifully we have been gifted an extraordinary body that has the capacity of correcting its mistakes and cells are known to commit suicide when needed. Sometimes it does not happen and that is when cancer has we know it occurs.

What I discovered while dealing with Ranjan's cancer is that cancer is caused by lifestyle and deep emotional stress and thus can be reversed by changes in the these. Everyone of us has more than 3000 cancer cells growing in our body. Cancer need not be feared and our immune system, provided its is healthy and spot on, is the best arsenal to deal with these cells. We must ensure that our immune system is intact and change our diets and lifestyle. This blog is my journey with cancer and I think it is time I published it as a book so that others may benefit from my experience and not fall for absurd and dangerous options.

I am often asked about how Ranjan is feeling and find myself wondering why I am being asked this question over and over again. And then the penny drops: he had/has cancer. And cancer is the big C, the one everyone fears or is made to fear for rather dubious reasons. I too once feared the beast as it took away those I most love, my mama and papa and then had the audacity to strike again. But this time I was ready to meet it head on. I was not going to fall for all this fear business. The so called big C was no more than the big F (flu) or the big I (infection)! In order to that I had to arm myself if as much knowledge as I could lay my hands on, particularly the ones that are purposely hidden from us. Luck was on my side this time as the Internet had shattered all barriers to knowledge.

To the question how is Ranjan, the answer is great and he is in.....  fill in the blank! Rajan has never been travelling so much for business and pleasure. As I write these words he is with his best buddy in Melbourne ready to watch the World Cup Finals; he was in Mauritius last week when went on a submarine dive, in Thailand the week before playing Golf, and will be in Indonesia next month then in the US and then I have lost count.  It is impossible for a recluse like me to keep up with him. I am constantly packing his suitcase and medicine packets as he tends to be forgetful like all men are.

After the last chemo/petscan combo in January 2013, we opted out of the one size fit all protocol that is the best on offer by the medical fraternity who has arbitrarily decided that it takes 5 years for them to declare you cured. For five years you have to be subjected to scans and tests and to living in the state called 'remission'. Having cancer in my genes, I was offered this remission business 20 years ago when I was told to have check ups every year. I refused and here I am hale, hearty and kicking. The only thing I did 20 years ago is change my diet.

For me Ranjan is cured of whatever he had. We do occasional blood work to keep a check. He has his Tibetan medicine to keep his immune system spot on, we eat healthy and almost vegan and have some supplements. That is it.

I just wanted to share this as I think it is time we realised what is causing our immune system to break down and avoiding the possible causes. Most of them are related to the food industry and the chemical load we ingest. Add to this lack of exercise and you have a recipe for disaster. Stay away from them and you are on the road to good health.

Lorsque l'enfant parait

Six years ago to the day, a little bundle of joy came into my life and turned its on its head! Six years ago to the day I became a grandmother to Agastya. It is uncanny how you fall in love the moment you hold the tiny bundle and feel his warmth. Suddenly, a huge hole you did not even know existed in your heart gets filled to the brim and you realise that there was a part if you missing till that blessed moment. And the magic does not end there as each day after that moment is more wondrous than the previous and you wonder whether your heart is big enough for all the joy that comes your way. But you soon realise it is as I guess granny's hearts are bottomless pits, or at least grow with quantum leaps as long as they can beat.

It would take me reams and reams of paper to convey all that I have experienced in the last 2190 days. What I can say though is that I never could have imagined what a grandchild brings in your life. His little smile can lift the old biddy out of the deepest blues, his hugs add a spring to her walk and work magic on the aching knees that no pill could. Grannies are a little dotty I know, so please be indulgent.

I just hope God grants me enough days to see him a grow a little more.

There is a touching poem written by Victor Hugo and entitled Lorsque l'enfant parait ( when the child appears). I do not know why, I remembered it today.

The English title is Infantile Influence.

The child comes toddling in, and young and old

With smiling eyes its smiling eyes behold,

And artless, babyish joy;

A playful welcome greets it through the room,

The saddest brow unfolds its wrinkled gloom,

To greet the happy boy.

If June with flowers has spangled all the ground,

Or winter bleak the flickering hearth around

Draws close the circling seat;

The child still sheds a never-failing light;

We call; Mamma with mingled joy and fright

Watches its tottering feet.

Perhaps at eve as round the fire we draw,

We speak of heaven, or poetry, or law,

Or politics, or prayer;

The child comes in, 'tis now all smiles and play,

Farewell to grave discourse and poet's lay,

Philosophy and care.

When fancy wakes, but sense in heaviest sleep

Lies steeped, and like the sobs of them that weep

The dark stream sinks and swells,

The dawn, like Pharos gleaming o'er the sea,

Bursts forth, and sudden wakes the minstrelsy

Of birds and chiming bells;

Thou art my dawn; my soul is as the field,

Where sweetest flowers their balmy perfumes yield

When breathed upon by thee,

Of forest, where thy voice like zephyr plays,

And morn pours out its flood of golden rays,

When thy sweet smile I see.

Oh, sweetest eyes, like founts of liquid blue;

And little hands that evil never knew,

Pure as the new-formed snow;

Thy feet are still unstained by this world's mire,

Thy golden locks like aureole of fire

Circle thy cherub brow!

Dove of our ark, thine angel spirit flies

On azure wings forth from thy beaming eyes.

Though weak thine infant feet,

What strange amaze this new and strange world gives

To thy sweet virgin soul, that spotless lives

In virgin body sweet.

Oh, gentle face, radiant with happy smile,

And eager prattling tongue that knows no guile,

Quick changing tears and bliss;

Thy soul expands to catch this new world's light,

Thy mazed eyes to drink each wondrous sight,

Thy lips to taste the kiss.

Oh, God! bless me and mine, and these I love,

And e'en my foes that still triumphant prove

Victors by force or guile;

A flowerless summer may we never see,

Or nest of bird bereft, or hive of bee,

Or home of infant's smile.

Blessed

You may wonder what makes a seemingly intelligent, reasonable and sensible person perform an act that would be deemed demeaning and even repulsive to some. And yet despite the Cartesian principles I live by, I crawled yesterday from the entrance of the Kalkaji temple to the shrine. For those of you who have never been to this temple, the half a mile or so walk is along an oft crowded path littered with every kind of dirt and muck that man and beast can create. To the scientific mind this stretch of partly cemented partly tiled expanse would be home to every bacteria, germs, bacilli and pathogens under the sun. People walk on it, spit on it, dogs poo and pee on it and I presume children too! It is supposedly cleaned twice a day but in a perfunctory manner. And yet I crawled all the way, to the feet of Goddess Kalka to redeem a pledge I had made in July 2013 when I performed a 'challis' which means going for 40 days to the shrine. You maybe wondering why!

That was the time when Ranjan was very sick and we had not been able to get a diagnosis. His blood counts were taking a free fall, he was melting away and I was helpless and powerless. Everything that I could have done, had been done. Every test and investigation had been performed and gave no incline. I had knocked at the door of every kind of doctor possible and come empty handed. I had prayed and prayed but God remained mute. But one thing I did not lose was my Faith. And it those times of despair, it was the only rock I could hold on to. I knew my faith was being tested and I was ready for the test.

One the last day of my 40 day pilgrimage, I had pledged that I would come crawling to the Goddess is she were to show me the way and the day Ranjan's haemoglobin would touch 13. Actually the reason I knew about this 40 day pilgrimage and the crawling pledge was because many in the slums perform it. I guess on the other side of the fence it remains unknown! On that side God is propitiated in lavish ways that can be bought through money. Not so with the poor.

When I took that pledge, I was in the deepest of despair and this pledge was my way of accepting defeat in front of God. It was the undoing of all my hubris, and megalomania as well as my firm belief that God would not let me down. I simply needed to find what God wanted from me any how far I was prepared to go to save Ranjan. The pact was sealed. The fact that I had been heard was revealed a few days later when we got a diagnosis and I felt in charge again.

It would take 17 months for the haemoglobin to cross the 13 mark. It did last week and I wads ready to fulfil my part. I must admit that I was a little scared as the ritual requires you standing than lying and extending your hands and that standing again from the point your hands were and lying again to be repeated for the whole distance. At 62, with ageing knees and stiff back it is no mean task. Add to it the filth, the damp and even wet patches makes it even harder.

I did it yesterday, and it went like a dream. The filth did not matter, it was as if it did not exist. Once I began, it was as if I was transposed to another realm and that the God I held on to was by my side all the time. I did the run in 15 minutes and for those 15 minutes I felt in deep communion with my God.

It was a humbling and yet uplifting experience that filled me with hope and joy.

I felt blessed.

From 7 to 16.. booting the elephant out of the room and out of our lives

For all those who love my better half and have been following our battle with Sir Hodgkin, here is an update and good news. R's last reports are A+! All parameters are good and the haemoglobin which at one time had reaches its nadir: 7, has now shot up to 16! This could only have happened with the guidance of two exceptional doctors, my GP and my Tibetan doctor and the unstinted support of all my friends from the world over. But above all it is because Ranjan trusted me implicitly and agreed to swallow all the potions and brews I made for him. Not to forget the Internet that allowed me to get all the information I needed. I so wish I could have done the same for my parents. I know have a greater admiration for my mother who refused all conventional treatment. Sadly I could offer her nothing in lieu.

We did have 10 chemo sessions but again with the approval of my two doctors. The oncologist wanted 2 more but I decided to stop when I realised that Ranjan was saturated with the poisoning. All along my Tibetan doctor and I prayed that his immune system would remain intact and it has.

I did not follow any protocol. I trusted my intuition and made choices when I felt them to be right. I would call it the Anou Protocol which was a medley of diet changes, supplements, jumping of the trampoline, exercising and above all not accepting to live in 'survival' mode. We just lived as we had when he was well. We absolutely did not return to the conventional options of post chemo tests and scans and all else. We booted the elephant out of the room and of our lives.

I recently read two articles on cancer. Frightening. The first is about a doctor profiting from selling toxic chemotherapy. It is only the tip of the iceberg. The second article is about the lifting of the hold on a breakthrough cancer treatment by the FDA. Dr Burzynski does not believe in 'one size fits all' and offers personalised care. This is a point I had raised with R's oncologist when I insisted that he did not need the last 2 chemos that were part of the 'protocol'.

What modern medicine or let us rather call it bizMedicine is a almost total corruption and manipulation of the Hippocratic Oath, and we are falling for it. I am reading a fascinating book by Rana Dasgupta entitled Capital, and urge you to read Chapter Five to see what is happening in our city. It is terrifying.

We all need to make the right choices, to inform ourselves before rushing into treatments proffered with alacrity and impunity, to listen to our body and above all to keep positive. Laughter is indeed the best medicine!

Not bad luck

A new study doing the virtual rounds of the world wide web wants us to believe that most cancers are caused by bad luck! I guess this is the easiest answer a doctor can provide a patient when he has nothing else to proffer. All patients want to know what caused their cancer and the doctors do not have any answer in spite of the gazillions spent on cancer research. So the medical fraternity must be thrilled and relieved at now having a study emanating from none other than John Hopkins giving them an answer that fits all, satisfies all and needs no further explanation. Come on if you have bad luck mutations then what can anyone day, bar God I guess! That makes the big C beyond any ones control and bad luck a scientific phenomenon. I wonder whose agendas are being met by such a study.

In an interesting rebuttal cancer survivor Chris Wark makes some interesting remarks. This study seems to suggest that if you have cancer, you drew the bad lot and lost the lottery. Simplistic? Not quite as if we were to accept this rather absurd view then changing your lifestyle and eating habits may not help; the only thing that will help is to find out as early as possible whether you are in the lucky lot or the unlucky one. And how do you do that? By early detection and more research. And whose pockets are filled: research and conventional and expensive investigations and treatment. Luck cannot be changed by eating broccoli or giving up sugar. Accepting this study would actually push you to eat, drink and be merry as if you are lucky nothing will happen to you, but if you are unlucky then why not live recklessly. This study, if it were to be believed, sweeps all other options away.

I have had cancer in my life since 1958 when I was just 6. My grandma died of liver cancer. Then four decades later it took my mom and pa away. At that time I knew nothing of alternative therapies and other options. In 1993 when I net to Paris a month after my father's demise and had to visit a doctor for some minor problem, I was asked my medical history and when the doctor realised that both my parents had cancer, it was suggested that I have a detection test every year. Mercifully for me, I never do anything without thinking and I decided I did not want to live a life of yearly remission. I would wait for my body to send me a signal and then decide. When I came back to India I met my Tibetan doctor and since have been taking Tibetan medicine.

I however also took the decision of finding out more about cancer and even though the Internet had not arrived in our lived I did find books and articles that talked of diets, and life style and alternative therapies. I made some radical lifestyle and dietary changes and am still going strong.

Two years ago Cancer came into my like in the worst way possible. My husband wad diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. But I was ready and bad luck was not one of the things on my check list. As the Internet has arrived in our lives, I spend days and nights looking for information and making informed choices to prepare my own protocol. I only agreed to chemotherapy because my Tibetan doctor told me that Hodgkin's was one of the three cancers that responded well to chemotherapy. She gave medication to keep the immune system going and also to soften the side effects of the lethal and legal poisoning. My husband had no side effects. When I felt that he as saturated I bullied the oncologist to agree to stop the chemos.

I have shared my battle with Hodgkin's in this blog. My protocol for Ranjan was a mix of dietary changes, supplements, cannabis leaves, soursop tea, and more. Even today, he follows that protocol. Ranjan is golfing, and even jet setting and is off to Helsinki in a few days and then to a gourmet weekend in Paris with his best friend. I do not know where luck stands in all this.

Coming back to the study and to Chris Wark's rebuttal, I agree with him when he states: Bad luck is perhaps the most dangerous idea to permeate the cancer community because it renders the patient powerless.  Nothing you did caused cancer, therefore nothing you can do will make any difference in healing it. Now you are completely dependent on early detection to prevent cancer, and if that doesn’t work, your only hope is surgery, chemo and radiation to save you. There’s no use in changing your diet or lifestyle. This is absurd. Only by changing your like style and even jumping on a trampoline you can beat the big C!

There are innumerable studies that show that you can reverse your cancer. Chris Wark mentions some in his article should you be interested in knowing more and as he also says: There are 21 African nations with less than 1/3 of the cancer rates of the United States. Niger has 1/5th, but their starchy plant-based diet and physical activity has nothing to do with it. They are just 80% luckier.

Changing your life style, exercising and thinking positive can reverse your cancer. I speak from experience.

Biceps and Bhai sahibs

Being a recluse, I have my evolved my own ways to de-stressing, taking time off or even traveling to strange lands without having to go further than a few minutes walk. For me these are ways of getting of the spinning world and  catching my breath and even recharging my batteries. My latest travel is to the gym located ten minutes walk from my home. For an hour or so I am transported on to another planet I have fondly named - Biceps and Bhai Sahibs! As I walk down the steps of this strange world, I feel a different person. I am in alien world and make sure to embrace its ways. So off comes the jacket and scarf, and with a wave to the burly trainers I get on to the treadmill, set my speed at 6km and take off. The blaring music, the kind I normally shun, sets the rhythm of my walk and I find myself enjoying the mix of house music, Hindi pop, Punjabi rock that hits my ears through a speaker located just next to my treadmill. I catch some words but mostly it is just the beat that gets me going. Before I know it, my 30 minutes are over. Strangely these are the only 30 minutes where I find myself not thinking or anything at all. Maybe this is a form of meditation.

Often the treadmills next to mine have bhai sahibs with large biceps running at high speed. Most are young men eager to get the beloved 6 0r 8 or whatever packs. Some of them grunt while they run. Actually there is a lot of grunting, mostly with the lads doing weight training. It is funny, but somehow I feel quite comfortable amidst them. They sometimes smile at me, but are mostly serious trying to impress one and all.

After my walk, it is time to train and all the young trainers are most eager and ready to 'train' me. I think they are quite amused at the old biddy wanting to build her body! So its is one machine after the other and repetitions laded with encouraging words. I somehow don't feel ridiculous even though in most machines I can only lift the minimum weight of 5 kilos though I have reached 15 kilos in some.

I am like a child trying to concentrate and do my best. Lower body, upper body, abs.. the whole enchilada. And all through the show my mind does stray in any direction: no pwhy, no family, no home. Just me and my training.

I am glad I found the world of biceps and bhai sahibs. It gives me the breath of fresh air I need, in spite of the grunts, the sweat and the loud music!

A few good men

A gentle soul breathed his last yesterday night after a long and valiant battle with the unrelenting crab. My relationship with him was unique. He was the first 'in-law' I met before my marriage. I was nervous like hell as I walked the stairs leading to the Chinese restaurant where we were to meet. The question in my mind was : would he approve of me. But the moment I met him, all doubts flew away as his charm and kind ways worked wonders and all tabs were soon castaway. He was an amazing erudite and I found myself mesmerised by his knowledge. The much feared lunch ended too soon with a warm hug and a words of blessing.

Then life tools its twist and turns and sadly the note we had struck while enjoying noodles and Manchurians vanished altogether. We met a few times, as niece and uncle in-law, the equation that never seems to balance.

It was a few years back that our paths would cross again. This time it was a terrible challenge that would bring us together, one that would test the mettle we were made of. He would stand tall, like few do and take the road less travelled even if it led to difficult choices. But he took them with courage and conviction. He filled a space in my heart that had laid empty for far too long. I felt blessed. Thus began a new relationship, one that defies all definition and obliterates all tags and labels.

We enjoyed talking about any and everything. His massive erudition and wisdom never failed to amaze me and I learnt more at his proverbial knee that I would in books. We shared a passion for reading and writing and he never failed to comment on my blogs. The have lain orphaned for the past months as he lay in a hospital bed, his body wrecked but his spirit soaring.

Good men are few. He was one of them. The world will never look the same after his demise.

May his soul rest in peace.