vickygoestravelling

my journey to health and well being via exotic destinations


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in which I explore alternative therapies, including Traditional Chinese Medicine

Snowdrops and primula enjoy the first sunshine

Snowdrops and primula enjoy the first sunshine

This week I have been exploring alternative therapies. Started with devouring David Servan-Schreiber’s Anti-Cancer book from cover to cover and found it put a lot of what I do every day into a good and helpful perspective, while contextualising the scientific background – lots of mice and rat experiments I’m afraid – with some good case studies.

The main take-aways are:

Inhibits immunity/influences inflammation Activates immunity/influences inflammation
Traditional western diet Mediterranean diet, Indian, Asian cuisine
Stress, anger, depression (unmanaged) Serenity, joy, laughter
Social isolation Support from family and friends
Denial of one’s true identity Acceptance of self with one’s values and past history
Sedentary lifestyle Regular physical activity (at least 20 mins per day)
Domestic pollutants Clean environment

The big change in diet argument goes something like this: our consumption of sugar and foods with high glycemic index (e.g. white flour) stimulate not only the growth of cancer cells but their capacity to invade other cells. I won’t go into the science here, you can read it for yourselves, but for instance those who eat low-sugar Asian diets tend to have 5-10 times fewer hormonally-driven cancers than those with diets high in sugar and refined food. Green tea is a well-known suppressor of growth of the new blood vessels required by cancer cells to grow and explains why in Japan the incidence of aggressive breast and prostate tumours is so much lower than in the West.

Pomelo salad, with coconut shavings and peanuts

Pomelo salad, with coconut shavings and peanuts: healthy eating!

Organic cabbage salad (Vietnamese)

Organic cabbage salad (Vietnamese)

Then there’s the recent imbalance of the Omega 3s (which we had in abundance until after the 2nd World War; in those days we relied on grass- and naturally-fed cattle, pigs and chickens) with the prevalence of Omega 6 in our diet. This is largely fuelled by the feeding of livestock on corn, soya and wheat, all of which transform our food chain from being Omega 3-rich to being Omega 6-high. This imbalance, along with the enormous increase in trans fats found in biscuits, cakes and processed foods  – all of which are more inflammatory than Omega 6 in its natural state – are also linked to the  development of cancer. Not only does the destruction of swathes of forest and other agricultural land for livestock feed destroy the planet, it is also aiding our own demise simultaneously. So go organic and, as I am now, avoid all meat and dairy products. A bit extreme I know, but as I need to re-build my immune system it is probably worth it until I have some good news.

Tp rove the point - here is my Saturday feast this week! complete with Singapore noodles!

T o prove the point – here is my Saturday feast this week! complete with Khmer chicken, Thai chilli prawns and Singapore noodles!

Given that I have always lived eaten like an Asian (no carbs, no trans fats or processed foods, although I have not been organic) and kept very fit, it is obvious to me that both Ross’s prostate cancer of two years ago, and my current sarcoma have been brought on by the numerous stresses in our lives, paramount being that of losing Louise, but in my case both my parents as well. Servan-Schreiber describes both experiments and case studies where the feelings of helplessness induced by depression and despair have contributed to cancer, and how steps taken to alleviate such feelings can lead to longer life and health. He also stresses that its good to be realistic without being negative; something I feel I do. ‘I’ve found that realistic attitude in almost all of the people who have survived their cancer well beyond the statistics they were given.’

The undrinkable spirulina infested green juice!

The undrinkable spirulina-infested green juice!

Some people are skeptical, I am afraid, as I sip my green tea and insist on soya milk/yoghurt with my home-made granola, juice my beets, carrots, cruciform veg, with ginger, fresh turmeric (only works with black pepper), garlic and apple to sweeten. I tried spirulina once and was almost sick, so not sure how I can combine this healthy immunity-building algae! I make Ross drink it too, as he needs to keep his health up. I’m not sure he’s convinced – well poor chap got the spirulina concoction on day 1! But it keeps me busy and thinking positively and I hope gives you, my friends, something to laugh about.

Home-made granola

Home-made granola

In the garden

In the garden

*          *          *

Monday 24 Feb finds me going back to the TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) shop where the helper was so cynical when I dropped by to get some Chinese herbs for cooking. ‘Do you really believe in this stuff,’ asks the young man incredulously, his hip little ponytail wagging away. ‘Why not? I’ve got cancer and so long as it’s not poisonous, I’m willing to try anything. Anyway it’s in my Chinese cancer cookbook. And [auntie voice] do you think you should be saying such things if you work here?’ ‘Oh’ says he, ‘the boss is out so I can say what I like’.

The happy cook - with wine!

The happy cook – with wine!

I have an appointment with Dr Feng, who is my age exactly. I have come for acupuncture but you cannot consult a Chinese doctor without having the once-over. She takes my pulse, asks various questions, and says my kidney and liver functions are weak and therefore allowing the cancer to grow, my yin is out and I must stop drinking coffee and alcohol immediately! She also refines the eating list that Anti-Cancer has bestowed upon me – no curry or chilli; no meat or dairy at all and various other things like peanuts and coconut – all too ‘hot’ (this chimes with my Ayurvedic profile, given after Louise died, so rings true). Oh no, can I really do this?

Dr Feng is rather attractive and has been here 22 years (Helena Bonham Carter comes here once a month);  she owns the practice with her ex, and her two girls went to Cambridge, then one to Harvard and the other to Goldman Sachs!  She is very matter of fact as she tells me to lie on the couch as I need treatment ‘front and back’. She starts on the back of the neck, it feels like she is using a blow dart to insert the needles (later I check it out and indeed it is similar to a staple gun) as she pings them in: quick swab of white spirit and zap! In it goes; some are more painful than others especially over the kidney area (she says this is because the unblocking required is severe).

After leaving me like a pincushion under a hot lamp, she disappears for 10 minutes; the pain in my back is really severe, a dull ache rather than searing. Is this doing me good I wonder, as I practise my breathing skills. Now, she says on return, we do some cupping! Yikes, I recoil as I remember Gwynnie’s back after she extolled its virtues. And crikey are they hot! She pops them on with a huge squelch, at least ten or twelve of them …I am reeling from the physicality of the treatment so far but all I can do is shut my eyes and breathe deeply!

My back after cupping - Wah!

My back after cupping – Wah!

Back she comes, phew it’s over, think I…but, no, ‘lie on front now’! Then she applies more deathly needles to my legs including on my shins, ankles and front of foot…aaargh! The pain on my bad leg is sudden and quick, I feel a lightening jolt running down and then it is gone. This is the unblocking she explains  – kindly? Several more minutes pass as I lie on my back now with my pink cardi draped over my feet; there is a whispered consultation going on next door, the poor man is having terrible nightmares; she tutts sympathetically.

Primula

Primula

Then she comes in and starts to massage my bad leg, to reduce the fluid which has been building up and which Prof is threatening to syringe. ‘No need, we get rid of it naturally,’ she opines gaily. But it’s very sore indeed as she digs in round the ankle and passes her hands in smooth circles up my calf. ‘You very stiff, here, bend your knee back, move your ankles. You must do lots of exercise, yoga good!’ Ow, ow, ow is all I can splutter in response.

At last she deftly removes the remaining needles – oh no, she says wait a minute, some blood here! Dab, dab. Then I get dressed and go upstairs for my daily tea mix (see photo), which I have to soak overnight and brew the next day. ‘Might taste bad,’ she warns. I imagine it must be foul if she says this now! Plus some sachets of mushroom powders to be taken twice a day, some funny brown pills (Liu Wei Di Huang Wan to treat yin deficiency – good for weak kidneys, menopause and diabetes and combatting low immunity) and my diet sheet. Nearly everything is marked X in the BAD column – see picture, on left. Oi vey. I whinge about giving up the alcohol, although I drink very little these days. ‘But surely you want to get better? Your kidneys very weak, kidney pulse very weak, only now getting better after one session. You come twice a week until you return Singapore, we make you better.’

My twice daily 'tea' - pass hte sick bag!

My twice daily ‘tea’ – pass the sick bag!

For the record the mushroom powders taste like dust, and the tea smells and tastes absolutely rank. It’s hard to keep it down, I have to drink it in one (mixed with the mushroom powder).

The list of forbidden foods with the mushroom powder drink!

The list of forbidden foods with the mushroom powder drink!

In other news, I am half way through the radiotherapy. The leg is beginning to get stiff and a bit sore, but Dr Miah assures me this is normal. My buddies come and go – said goodbye to a brave woman in her late 60s who has a sarcoma like mine but in the thigh – it was so large they had a ‘guess the weight’ at the staff Christmas party (it was 2.5kgs!). She is also under Prof Thomas; the Sir Lankan lady is almost done and my new friend from Oxford with a benign brain tumour also on the home straight.

My stick seems to attract the attention of other unfortunates: the two elderly drunks with a pit-bull lurching round South End Green, greeting me warmly, ‘Hiya, how are you love? Have a lovely day’; and Joe – we are on first name terms now  – the Big Issue seller, who always tells me I’m his first customer as he wishes me well too. The only exception was an old sourpuss at Belsize Park tube station who berated me for going up the ‘wrong staircase’. I shook my stick at her and said, ‘I am disabled and have cancer. This way saves me a long walk’. She looked at me in disbelief.

Well, it takes all sorts as they say, and even the grumpies of this world cannot take way from my determination to travel hopefully.

Daffs

The first daffs


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in which I get a welcome visit for Valentine’s Day

Meditating in the Kenyan pants

Meditating in the Kenyan pants

11 sessions down, 22 to go. Exactly one third through. Now settling into a routine: sometimes a kind friend comes with (thanks to Janie’s rota), or I go by myself. It was a huge relief that the tube strike was called off. The only slightly iffy day was when they serviced the machine and my appointment  ran 45 minutes late which meant I battled peak rush hour on the tube. Waved my stick aggressively and seats were vacated.

Tommy with Pickle

Tommy with Pickle – a handsome pair

As for the leg, it is getting itchy and a bit red: slapping on the aqueous cream morning and night. Yukky gungy mess, but does the trick. By Friday night, after a busy day of various hospital appointments, including having various sun spots frozen off my scalp at the Royal Free and an hour’s Pilates, my leg was very swollen.

Miso soup with shitake mushroom, tofu...the best immunity boosters all in one!

Miso soup with shitake mushroom, tofu…the best immunity boosters all in one!

Still juicing and making soups and immunity-boosting foods. Thanks Nina, founder of http://www.platform505.com, for the gift of Anti-Cancer – A New Way of Life which has lots of useful info for health. I am now taking daily probiotic supplements as well.

Met one of the gym trainers in Tesco: ‘Whats up with your leg?’ ‘Oh I’ve got cancer – had all my leg muscles removed’. Show him my leg. ‘F*** me, I can’t believe it, you look so bloody well’. It must be all the raw veg!

The highlight of the week has been the one-day late Valentine’s gift of a returning husband on a flying visit.  He’s back for 10 days next weekend – the jobs are piling up!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Also this week a trip to the Roundhouse with Tommy, Olivia and various of their friends to see Worst of Scottee. Scottee was a great friend of Louise’s – we first met on her 18th birthday when she was DJ-ing at Sin in her Pure Filth phase, and Scottee was doing cabaret in a red PVC figure-hugging dress and stilettos.

On Louise's 18th birthday

On Louise’s 18th birthday

After the show – a very poignant and brave retrospective on his childhood, told from a photo booth – we sit in the bar and reminisce about the days when he and Lou went clubbing and he would throw her round the dance floor  – ‘she was so tiny and I, of course, am very large’. He often sits on the bench before the show and breathes in her calming influence.

With Scottee at the Roundhouse

With Scottee at the Roundhouse

This week’s competition winner is chief medical advisor, Dr Fi, who is also Pickle’s breeder; and Marion, who brought me back these funky yoga pants from Kenya. Both achieve photo awards!

Dr Fi - with Pickle

Dr Fi – with Pickle


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In which my leg improves slowly but sorely

Champery is as pretty as a picture in the snow!

Champery is as pretty as a picture in the snow!

 Woke on Christmas morning to the sound of torrential rain! Not what the doctor ordered in a ski resort…

I had spent the majority of xmas eve chopping veg, preparing stuffing, making the cabbage, prepping the bread and apple sauces, and balefully eyeing our rather small goose. The boys go off skiing and narrowly avoid getting stuck on the French side – brings back memories of that terrible day I was waiting for Louise on her third attempt to leave London [her last xmas, 2010] and they got stuck in France and were not there to calm my nerves…had I known what a narrow squeak Tommy had getting here this year, with the English storms raging, I think I would have been beside myself. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Spent a very nice xmas eve chez cousins Christine, Diego and their boys, oysters and empanadas, their Chilean tradition. We did a rather fun Stealing Santa where you can steal someone else’s secret Santa when it is your turn! Tempers got rather frayed at one point…

Tommy on xmas day

Tommy on xmas day

Christmas morning itself is always a big reminder of Louise’s absence: she adored opening her stocking at the end of our bed, just as I adored finding silly things for her. The best present in 2010 was the burka I got in Oman, which she wore at lunch in France, just after they had been banned. We were doubled up with laughter at lunch and, later, when she skied down the mountain wearing it!

Louise in her burka on xmas day

Louise in her burka on xmas day

Tommy is just as big a child and he is thrilled with the contents of his stocking. As ever we gather on our bed and open our stockings in turn. I had some lovely extravagant gifts, Jo Malone, Molton Brown, edibles – felt very spoiled. All the smellies a girl could wish for and perfect for the pampering phase of my life.

The master chef!

The master chef!

After lunch – there was plenty of everything, even the goose – with Tommy playing sous chef to shouted instructions from the sofa, charades were called for and I remembered we had a box game. When I opened it I discovered scoring sheets in Louise’s handwriting, evidence of past fun. The shock of seeing her childish, teenage scrawl brought her absence into a palpable reality and my mood never really recovered.

Ross and me exhausted by xmas; the charade box is in the foreground

Ross and me exhausted by xmas; the charade box is in the foreground

In fact I had spent most of the day feeling queasy – a mixture of grieving and reaction to drugs – and so much food and drink make me feel worse, an unusual situation for me. On top of which my leg is hurting like crazy. In the end I leave the merriment and go to bed, but cannot sleep. Feel very anxious and vulnerable; the unspoken thought which I had been trying to banish all day now creeps into my head: is this my last Christmas? I wonder if others are thinking this as well; I try to gauge the meaning of those kind words and looks.

xmas lunch with brother Sasha, George and Beth, Hannah and Charlie

xmas lunch with brother Sasha, George and Beth, Hannah and Charlie

I have been trying not to think morbidly but what with my leg swollen and throbbing, it is hard not to imagine the worst. And all this terrible tiredness; and no matter how much I eat, I am still getting thinner… Is it just the price of healing or something more sinister? Only time will tell…

*                     *                    *

Wake up at 5 am on Boxing Day to the sound of the snow plough. The rain has turned to snow and there is at least 4-6 inches outside, and it is still snowing. Good news for the skiers and I can thus spend the day in bed writing and reading with my leg up. Which is now back to normal, thank goodness. They always say things are better in the morning.

Tommy enjoying the powder on boxing day

Tommy enjoying the powder on boxing day

I am pleasantly surprised that I do not feel envy as they kit up to go skiing, even on a gorgeous day with deep powder in the offing. Instead I feel a great sense of relief that I can snuggle up at home with a good book (The Luminaries), a jigsaw and Radio 4 for company. It makes me realise how much energy it takes to heal my wounds, both mental and physical. At least six weeks…

My latest worry is whether my leg will be healed enough to start the radiotherapy in January. Despite the sudden improvement in walking – I can now flex my foot with each step rather than advance with a fixed, stiff knee joint – the pain comes winging back, a dull ache combined with a terrible tenderness where my calf used to be. I suppose this is how an amputee feels. But it’s difficult to rest the back of my leg on anything as it is so sore. And by the end of the day, my lower leg is tight and throbbing despite being elevated most of the time.

I took the dressing off yesterday, and Ross removed and replaced some of the steri-strips. Pleased to see the bruising has gone down a lot and the wound is looking good. So good I am showing it to you!

the much improved leg!

the much improved leg!

Last tummy jab administered yesterday too, thank God. Stomach a patchwork of blue, yellow and grey bruises with long lumps marking the needles’ length! Think this is a reflection not so much of my lack of skill but my loss of tummy fat, resulting in the injections going into the muscle rather than subcutaneous fat. Wah! Only wearing the DVT stocking at night now.

Another week of rest before coming back, so I am hoping that these small improvements will gain pace. Meanwhile, fret not, I love being on my own; the day is punctuated with visitors, the evenings alternate with meals in and out, Tommy’s girlfriend Olivia has arrived and the family feels complete again.

Louise, xmas 2010


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in which we finally arrive in Champéry for Christmas

The Dents du Midi on the day we arrive - glorious!

The Dents du Midi on the day we arrive – glorious!

We made it! Here I am with my boys in the mountains, getting ready for Christmas: the goose is collected, we smuggled the chipolatas and bacon through customs, the champagne is chilling, presents wrapped and last-minute instructions for shopping issued! It’s Christmas Eve and Ross and Tommy are off skiing while I am left to some retrospective musings.

The first one is of a practical nature: even if the weather is gorgeous, the snow is terrible so I don’t feel I am missing out. I had been dreading the feeling of unadulterated jealousy, listening to tales of knee-high powder and virgin slopes, instead it’s a litany of overcrowded, muddy pistes and closed runs. Sigh of relief!

This is always a very sad time for our trio: the last Christmas we spent with Louise was here in Champéry, and the memories are still so vivid: the tension and heartache when she nearly didn’t make it due to the British weather – it took four days, three cancelled planes and a £65 taxi before I scooped her up from Aigle station, her presents and possessions spilling out of broken bags (so Louise!); her garish New Look jumper; the delicious goose; the fairy-tale weather; the company of good friends – in other words, a perfect family Christmas.

Louise in her New Look jumper on Christmas Day 2010

Louise in her New Look jumper on Christmas Day 2010

Being on crutches up here evokes the time when I broke my hip three and a half years ago. Despite all the obvious downsides to such an injury (nine weeks no weight bearing followed by a further 12 on crutches), it also brought Louise and I very close. She came to look after me in Geneva while Ross was away and we had a riotous time with her wheeling me round the park and to restaurants, she so little she could barely control the chair! We then went to Barbados together for a fabulous 10 days recuperation with friends Heather and JP in their beachfront villa,  and we had a very bonding and girly time sharing a room, fuelled by fine dining and drinking. I feel so privileged to have these memories. And now Tommy is manfully filling this gap by looking after me, both here and in London, in a similar fashion. It is very special.

Putting on the Ritz in Barbados, summer 2010

Putting on the Ritz in Barbados, summer 2010. I wear Louise’s necklace every day

My lovely GP happily prescribed the forgotten painkillers – don’t know how I’d do without them…tramadol, paracetamol and anti-inflammatories. The pain is constant and aching.

My not-so-lovely leg post clip removal

My not-so-lovely leg post clip removal

I had a pedicure to cheer me up! After all my feet are on constant display!

I had a pedicure to cheer me up! After all my feet are on constant display!

The rest of my clips were painlessly removed by one of my nurses. She took a photo of the wound – not for the squeamish. It has been bleeding a bit behind the knee and it is quite bruised there. But everyday it feels a little better, though I foolishly keep forgetting to ask how long the pain will go on…perhaps not so dumb as it might only add to the vague air of anticlimactic depression that has descended. I apologise to you all, but I’m afraid it is not possible to be superwoman all the time.

A kind friend sent me a link to a book about cancer, obviously meant to give hope. However it only served to send me into deep angst about secondaries. Not knowing the histology yet (I know I said I was going to forget this for two weeks, but…) and the mitotic rate of the various tumour cells that were found, there is this faint niggle which can only be assuaged by quarterly scans for two years, and then six-monthly ones for a further three years. So it’s a long haul. I guess my status remains ‘living with cancer’.

But today I must make the bread and apple sauces, the red cabbage and do my physio. Tonight we will feast on empanadas and oysters with cousins Christine and Diego and tomorrow morning we will open our stockings, have a light but jolly lunch with friends, before tackling the goose with my brother Sasha and more friends. Tommy is donning the head chef cap.

I will enjoy this Christmas and be thankful for being with loving family and friends: three years ago it was Louise’s last, how could we have known?

Pickle enjoying the Simon's Cat video xmas card

Pickle enjoying the Simon’s Cat video xmas card

So Bonne Fête as we say here! I will raise a glass of Christmas bubbly to you all and those less fortunate than ourselves. I will especially be thinking of my friend Brigid, who is trapped in Juba having evacuated her team from Bor, the heartland of Sudan’s civil war. Just a week before this she had told me how much she was enjoying her work there…see how life is constantly balanced on a knife-edge.

Carpe diem!