This story is about my friend Cindy, her fight with inflammatory breast cancer(IBC) and my take on the whole situation.
I met Cindy in early 2000 when I went to see her for alternative therapy for a problem I was experiencing. Cindy was into natural healing and I was interested in doing things naturally. We became friends and colleagues in the healing arts and I learned a great deal from her as she guided me to various modalities of natural healing.
In 2007, a group of us were meeting in which we performed healing trades on one another. Cindy showed us a blemish she had on her right breast and asked us to help her with it. It was about the size of a half dollar. It looked BAD! I told her to see a doctor about it, to which she exclaimed that she had no insurance and wanted to heal it naturally.
Cindy's mother is a survivor of Inflammatory breast cancer, so there was a direct link to the situation. Her mother tried her best to get her to the doctor, but she resisted. I was frightened for her, but I knew I could only encourage her to seek help.
This went on for several months. The blemish on her breast got larger and started oozing. Again, our group told her to see a doctor, that she could go to any hospital and not be refused treatment, to which she continued in the same way. Finally, she contacted the local community hospital and was approved to receive assistance and treatment for her STAGE 4 CANCER! I was furious that she let herself get to that stage before getting help.
The next 3 years were very hard on all of us. Cindy was scheduled to have a double mastectomy. In and effort to be upbeat she and some friends threw a party to say “Good-by to her Ta-Ta's.” The party included a cake shaped like Boobies. She was very celebratory about the whole thing, she told everyone that she was saving one of the cake boobs for her sweetie to enjoy. I was disgusted with her denial of the situation, She was about to have both breasts removed and she was celebrating it? What was wrong with her? How could anyone in their right mind be so nonchalant about loosing something that makes you a woman? Part of her identity would soon be gone! I was angry and confused. Here was a friend that was denying the reality of her ailment and the possibility of loosing a part of her identity and joking about it. I started pulling away from her. I couldn't support her in her denial, so how was I going to keep my promise of being there for her through all this? I had to realize that this wasn't my problem and that my job was to be her friend and “TRY” to aid her in the best way that I could. I didn't know what that entailed, but I would soon find out.
A few weeks later she had the surgery. She tried to convince us all that it would be a breeze and that she would be okay. Oh, was she ever WRONG! She soon found out differently. The day after surgery, she called me from the ICU screaming. “Kim,” she said, “They had put maggots on me and they're crawling up my neck! They're going to kill me.” I tried calming her telling her that they were probably there to help with blood loss, but she was terrified that they would attached to her jugular and kill her! I called the nurses station and asked them to help her. I couldn't visit, I wasn't family so I had to wait. I called her mother and arranged to go with her to see Cindy. The next day, I was able to visit with her mother. The trauma was intense for everyone. Across from her bed was a table with little jars of maggots on it that would be placed on her throughout the day to assist with removing the stagnant blood from her surgical sites. Cindy was in extreme pain and cried uncontrollably. She shook like a leaf in the breeze. I felt helpless. Her mother stood by trying to calm her, but she had to leave, it was too much for her to bear. During the visit I was able to perform Quantum Touch to calm her down. I held her gently cradling her head close rocking her. I saw the drainage tubes, the maggots and the immense pain she was going through and all I could think is that didn't have to happen. If only she would have sought help before it got to stage 4. Her denial had really messed her up.
Many of us tried to stay in touch, but her treatments and pain controlled everything. For the next few months she would come to my office to receive treatments. Using Quantum Touch to release the scars from the surgery and gentle techniques, she would get some relief. She complained of a pain under her breast bone that wouldn't quit. The doctors said that she was in remission and that it should recede, but it didn't. After months of continuous pain, her Oncologist had more tests run and found out that the cancer had spread behind her breast bone and could not be removed. She had to resume treatments to contain it or she would be in grave danger due to it being so close to her heart and lungs. She would most likely be on some form of chemotherapy the rest of her life. Even with all that, she tried to remain upbeat and resisted the fact that she was going to die from this malady. I think she did that so we wouldn't pity her.
I would call or visit, but it was hard to get in touch with her. I had to call her mother to get the latest report on how she was doing. She went deep into a depression.
During her remission, I went to one of her breast cancer support group meetings. I was trying to be supportive in whatever way possible. To say the least I was humbled. Each woman was at a different level of something, be it treatment, surgery or remission in her journey back to health. All were terrified of what was happening or had happened with the additional fear that the cancer would haunt them the rest of their lives. Eternally changed by a mysterious “thing” that had taken residence within them. They were totally engulfed in their treatments and tried to be hopeful of the future, but their faces told a different story.
During the final months she would come to my office for friendship, support and a loving massage. This cancer had taken our Cindy and given us someone we could hardly recognize. She lost all her hair and a great deal of weight. She was shrinking as her posture caved in to the monster. Here was a women in her mid to late 40's that looked 80 years old. She was being eaten alive with chemicals, pain and mutated cells and there was nothing any of us could do to change that.
All I could do was comfort and love her during our last few times together. I could share unconditional love with her during the massage. Touch with intention has a powerful healing effect and I was honored to be a part of this experience. It gave her temporary relief from the pain, helped her feel normal and soothed both of our souls.
July 2010, the cancer was victorious and we lost a dear friend. I hope that this story will help others to realize that our health is a gem and not to be ignored. Our body tells us when something is amiss and it is our responsibility to care for it lovingly, treating it with kindness, seeking proper treatment so as to regain the shimmer of the jewel it is, before it is too late.
Denial is not a river in Egypt, it is a mental blockage that can cost one their life.
