(original version of article published Fall 2013 by Health Action Network Society)
I knew the minute my husband walked in the door the news was not good. Prostate cancer, the specialist had told him, and then given him a website for reference. And that was that! His brother’s recent diagnosis of prostate cancer had prompted Wayne’s visit to our GP, who referred him for specialist attention when she thought she’d found something. But Wayne was not at all concerned, even refusing my offer to accompany him for the test results.
We stood in our kitchen and hugged, but shed no tears.
I was all ‘All right. What’s next? Let’s-get-this-thing-fixed!’ For three years I’d been seeing a European–trained practitioner and I owed my current health to her guidance about cleansings, supplements, chiropractics, massage meditation and more. After years of painful symptoms and declining health I’d already embraced the benefits of complementary healing, and come to see that western medicine, while necessary, is basically trained to cut and medicate, not necessarily heal.
With a family history of cancer, including the death of his mother from cancer, and two siblings who have each had cancer three times, Wayne seemed almost paralyzed by the news and very skeptical of anything except traditional medicine. But he agreed to see my practitioner who immediately put him on high doses of anti-oxidants. He was referred to an esteemed clinician-scientist and urologic surgeon at the Vancouver Prostate Center, one of the best, so between the surgeon and my holistic practitioner, I felt we were in good hands.
He took his supplements, and also decided on the basis of the surgeon’s assessments to have his prostate removed. He was young, just 52, and otherwise in good health, although he keeps his stress well-hidden and was very non-committal about the holistic information I kept sharing. It began to feel to me like he just wasn’t engaged in this process, and I believed that that was a critical part of healing.
Surgery was scheduled for December 22. Meanwhile I was trying everything possible to get him to engage in his own healing. One day I asked if he’d go to yoga with me in the hopes that the energy work might release something. He said yes he’d try it, but it was clear he wasn’t committed so we didn’t end up going.
I did persuade him, though, to attend a two-day workshop at Inspire Health Integrated Cancer Care in Vancouver about complementary cancer therapies. He didn’t seem convinced by the successes of complementary therapies but he took it all in and said that understanding what others were dealing with – from breast cancer to brain cancer- helped him gain perspective.
One morning, we argued. We never argue so this was a big deal. I remember how carefully I chose my words. It felt as if my whole life was on the line.
“It seems that you’re just going along with whatever others want you to do,” I ventured cautiously, “and I’m worried that until you look this thing in the eye and take control of your own healing, I believe the cancer will keep coming back.”
“You just don’t want me to have the surgery,” he replied angrily. “No,” I said, “I want you to take control and whatever you decide I will support you 100%.”
The words went back and forth. The energy got bigger. Eventually he broke down and cried, the first time since his diagnosis. He said the surgery was too soon, just a few weeks away and right before Christmas. He didn’t want to be an invalid over the holidays, a big family time in our household. He asked me to call and cancel the surgery. The surgeon had said this was a slow-growing cancer, so a delay wouldn’t make things worse. We hugged each other tightly that morning.
Christmas was relaxing and fun. In the New Year he mentioned maybe it was time to reschedule the surgery. Of course I preferred that my husband not be cut open, that the supplements would work, and that while he’d die with prostate cancer he wouldn’t die of it. But this was not my journey. It was his.
The surgery was rescheduled for February, and I secretly booked us another trip to his favourite destination, France, for the end of April, this time using all our points to go business class. The look in his eyes when I delivered the news that his surgery was scheduled and so was France, was one of pure relief.
The surgery went ahead, his prostate was found to be 40% cancerous, and he was home in two days. The doctors at the Vancouver Prostate Center were surprised just a few days later at how well he was healing . We switched him to supplements that would promote healing, and he healed well.
Our France trip that year was the best ever. He loves planning trips, so poring over accommodation options, car rental packages, and Michelin-starred restaurants was the perfect pre-surgery diversion. And relaxing in Provence over good wine and even better hilltop views clinched his recovery.
It’s been ten years since his diagnosis. So far, so good. Naturally I sometimes worry about him. He knows that he didn’t beat cancer, that it was cut out of him. But overall he doesn’t seem to worry about it like I do. And I realize that my fear isn’t helping anybody.
Life is good. We eat healthy, non-processed food and try to get more exercise. Our two kids are happily married and we have 3.5 grandkids. We’re not rich but generally OK. We laugh a lot, love hanging out together, and ensure each of us gets the alone time they need.
We process all the knowledge as best we can, we work at replacing old habits with new ones, and have faith that the universe is unfolding as it should.
Four Years Later
It’s 2017 and another new cancer is growing within my husband’s body. Two years ago while looking for the source of some recurring discomfort in Wayne’s right side, the doctors found a tiny mass in his left kidney. He’s never had any symptoms and is otherwise in good health, specially since retiring in 2015 and abandoning the inactivity of office work and taking up more physical work around our new property.
No explanation has ever been found for the original discomfort, which now seems to have gone away.
We returned to the same surgeon, who reported that at 2 cm, the tumour was too small for surgical removal. If it got to 3 cm, they would consider removing just the tumour. But, I reasoned, even if it was necessary to remove the whole kidney, he could do just fine on one kidney.
We also visited our regular holistic practitioner who prescribed wormwood, chaga tea, and marine phytoplankton to stop the growth of the tumour, and (I hoped) maybe even shrink it.
At the moment, Wayne goes every six months for either a CT scan or an ultrasound. In two years the tumour appears have grown to 2.4 cm. But, says our holistic practitioner, it’s also possible that with different people reading the test results each time, the tumour may not have actually grown or may have grown less than .4 cm.
The surgeon suggested a biopsy, to provide more information about the type of cancer and perhaps revise the monitoring schedule. The less exposure to CT scan radiation the better. We are both grateful that his cancers were found so early, and in the case of the kidney tumour, so gratuitously. While his doctor is very dismissive of complementary healing, at least he’s very diligent about monitoring Wayne’s health in general and specifically any bumps or spots or symptoms however minor, that could signal another cancer.
I am hopeful that the seemingly odd supplements he takes may preclude surgery ever being needed. Wayne, on the other hand, just shrugs his shoulders and gets on with his life.
