Saturday, August 11, 2007

A Little Help From My Friends

Yesterday I made a new friend, named Charles, from New Jersey. A different friend introduced me to him. Charles used Gerson Therapy when cured himself of prostate cancer. Today I found out that a friend, who used to be my supervisor, was diagnosed with cancer in the last week.


Man. I'm barely getting my head around my own diagnosis. And now she and her family are dealing with this. It's not my intention to minimize their situation and, this cancer just sticks its head into everything. I'm clear the second half of this statement is still considered theory, but I believe it: cancer is a result of bodies being toxic. I work very hard to keep my politics out of this because it's not what this blog is about, but cancer didn't show up like this years ago. I read that cancer shows up in one out of every three people and it's climbing to one out of two.

There. Now you've read my dooms day report. I'm frustrated with this stuff. I will never forget the day I was diagnosed. After I heard those words, I felt such a deep and empty pain. I don't ever want to feel that again. And guess what. About a month-and-a-half ago, I had a dream that I was healthy, or so I believed, and then in that same dream, I went to my doctor and I was diagnosed with rectal cancer. And I felt the same exact pain that I felt when it really happened. I woke up from that dream so grateful to be awake - knowing I actually did have cancer. But why I was happy was because I didn't have to feel that unforgettable pain that showed up the first time I heard my diagnosis.

It breaks my heart that we must feel such things. Yes, life is suffering...and sometimes it breaks my heart.

And you want to know what? I heard that my friend was in great spirits today and I was so inspired by her. It reminded me that my feelings and my circumstances don't have to define who I am in the world. I can live like that if I choose to, and I do not choose to. Who I choose to be in the face of my circumstances (and my feelings which zoom around like a landscape from a fast moving train) is playful and full of joy. I slipped and fell for a minute, but now I'm back up thanks to the generosity of one man and the incredible spirit of an amazing woman.


  1. Robert, I just found your blog through a Google alert. I'm a Stage III rectal cancer survivor who was diagnosed on 25-Nov-2005. I've had chemo, radiation, surgery, and more chemo and am doing not too badly. I, too, blogged about my experiences as you are doing and found it to be an incredibly therapeutic exercise. In fact, I still do. Feel free to visit me at We can commisserate on treatments whenever you like.