Living on special borrowed time
IWAN WILLIAMS, news.scotsman.com
SINCE my diagnosis of cancer in November 2002, I’ve become interested in exploring complementary therapies but I am starting from a point of reasonable scepticism. I don’t want to rush from one therapy to another - eating bananas one week, trying the latest cure from California the next. However, I am aware that there are more things we could be doing, not so much to cure cancer but to improve the quality of our everyday life.
What I liked about the Bristol Cancer Centre was the way it linked conventional treatment with other therapies. Its holistic approach made sense to me. I remember a doctor at the Beatson saying that there is no evidence diet has any effect at all on cancer. That is not true.
Bristol offers a two-day course and a five-day retreat. It’s quite expensive - the two-day course is £540, the five-day £900. The focus is as much on carers and supporters as people with cancer; that really appealed to us.
We arrived for the two-day programme on a Sunday evening in July. There was a basic get-to-know-you session to encourage us to voice our expectations of the weekend. Our group was quite small, just seven people.
The accommodation was fine but the atmosphere was wonderful; totally relaxed and unstressed. The food is completely vegan - salads, pasta, homemade bread, vegetable stews - and it is excellent.
The main change for us, following Bristol, is that we have gone vegan. We’re not fanatical - it’s vegan with cheating - but the main thing is that we have cut out dairy produce.
Humans are the only animals that drink the milk of another species. Milk is designed to encourage growth in young mammals. Their cell reproduction rate is very high. Cancer cells also reproduce enormously quickly so consuming food designed to encourage the kind of cell development we don’t want makes no sense.
It’s been surprisingly easy; we’ve had to learn how to prepare food differently.
Monday was spent learning about the Bristol approach and we talked to each other about our experiences with cancer; everybody had a horror story about their treatment at the hands of the NHS. One chap had been told he had a tumour over his mobile phone while he was standing in the supermarket.
On the Tuesday, there were one-to-one sessions with a doctor, nutritionist, counsellor, art therapist and healer. With the doctor, I spent a lot of time discussing how I manage pain. The nutritionist and I had a row about giving up red wine, one of life’s pleasures. Mostly we were given helpful suggestions. One of the highlights was the session with the counsellor. She was wonderful. After we had spoken about my life, she suddenly said: "Alright, you have all this going for you, so why did you get ill?" It was a very good question.
That was when I first thought about the time in the 1990s when my life was in a mess. I felt for the first time at Bristol that my cancer has a cause. It could have been dealt with. It had been the big unanswered question - why did it happen? It might sound quite a harsh question, but it wasn’t. Something really came together for me in that session. I had been very sceptical about the healing session but it was remarkable. The healer passed her hands over my body and I felt different, better.
I want to take these experiences further. I need a counsellor. I want to find someone I can speak to about things I can’t talk to Alison about. It’s not fair to burden her. I want someone to put me back together. I’m still in bits, still off balance.
It’s more than 18 months since I was told - with all the usual caveats - that on average I could expect another 18 months. Even if you can say to yourself, as I did, "I don’t believe in timetables", you still feel there is a deadline out there.
I’ve been reading the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, by Sogyal Rinpoche. He says that when it comes to thinking about death, start now. Don’t leave it. Just accept it is going to happen.
I’ve never wanted to curse the universe. I wasn’t angry about the initial cancer, although I am very angry about the fact it wasn’t detected earlier.
So, no anger. Grief, yes. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by grief. Fear, at first, but not now.
The one thing I do get terribly upset about is that both my cats died in the last few months. They were very important to me and got me through the bad times; I refer to them as my spiritual advisers and that they saved my life, which isn’t a joke. They lived with me for 16 years and were sisters. Carmen died first and Cleo was distraught. She developed this howl and got very weak.
The vet made noises about putting her down, but we said: "She’ll go when she’s ready." I had Carmen cremated and put in a little urn to wait. On a nice day we’ll take them both into the mountains and scatter them there. Alison says they are giving me one last gift and teaching me a very hard lesson.
CENTRE OF CARE AND COMPASSION
THE Bristol Cancer Centre was founded in 1980 by Penny Brohn and Pat Pilkington, a vicar’s wife. Penny, right, was in her early 30s and had three small children when cancer struck.
After struggling for emotional and spiritual support, Penny and Pat decided to provide it themselves.
The centre was initially run from Pat’s home, but growing demand after a BBC documentary led to it moving to its current premises in 1983. The building was opened by the Prince of Wales who became patron in 1997. The centre is the leading national holistic cancer care charity in Britain combining physical, emotional and spiritual therapies for cancer sufferers and their carers.
Penny Brohn died in 1999 after living with cancer for 20 years. Pat Pilkington is still actively involved with the centre. She was made an MBE last year.
A course to care for the carers as well as the cancer sufferers
ALISON WAUGH
I FOUND my experience of the Bristol Centre highly rewarding. I found the staff tremendously impressive; enormously calm and professional. They managed to be warm and compassionate, yet maintain a distance. The ratio of staff to clients was amazing - more than 1:1 - and with other people taking my needs and wants seriously for two and a half days, I had to as well. I had been paying lip service to the need to look after myself. At Bristol I began to understand what that actually meant. My sessions were separate from Iwan’s so I was able to concentrate on me, yet be with Iwan at the same time.
For me, Bristol came at exactly the right time and I have made life changes since.
The main thing is going vegan. The food takes a little longer to prepare and I have to use recipe books, but now I stop work at 5:30pm to cook. The relaxation and fun of putting together these dishes is tremendous. After supper, I don’t work; I’m getting my evenings back and I’ve promised myself I won’t work at weekends. Bristol has helped me prioritise.
The change of diet has helped me find a more balanced life. My energy levels are higher and my concentration better. "Nurturing" in the widest sense of the word was something I thought about a lot in Bristol. When we came back to Crieff, I found somebody to help me with the cleaning and somebody to cut the grass. I’ve managed to find an office in Crieff, which will help make the house less cluttered. I now make sure, at some stage each day, I do some relaxation and exercise.
There were tissue boxes everywhere in Bristol but most of the time was spent laughing. It gave a perspective on some of the dreadful things that happened, such as the appalling ways the medical profession had treated all of us.
Someone who impressed me hugely was Pat Pilkington, one of the founders of the centre, who spoke to us on the second day. That made me feel tremendously special. Bristol has remained close to its roots. It hasn’t been franchised. It’s utterly personal, utterly professional. I haven’t felt so well looked after since my mother died.
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