CHAPTER 1

Life before Cancer

"What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: our life is the creation of our mind."

— The Dhammapada

I experienced a happy childhood. I grew up with an Italian Catholic background in a small town in Ontario, Canada. I attended university in Toronto and am now a kindergarten teacher.

As I reflect back, it was soon after my father's death from cancer, when I was twenty-one years old, that I began to be fearful of the "big C." Immediately after his passing, I began researching foods that contributed to the onset of cancer. I soon gave up red meat, followed by all meat years later. This decision was difficult for my Italian mother to accept since she took great pride in cooking authentic meat-based Italian dinners. In my twenties, I began conducting self-breast examinations on a monthly basis. When I would feel something abnormal, I would make an appointment with my doctor and wait to receive reassurance that I was fine.

When I turned thirty, I insisted on having a mammogram. Although my doctor didn't feel it was necessary at this age, I felt it was. I remember reading somewhere that it was a good idea to have a picture of your younger breasts as a reference in case I needed a breast comparison down the road.

As I grew older, my fear of getting cancer continued to grow. I began to avoid foods that came in any contact with chemicals. If I couldn't find organic fruits, I would make sure I peeled their skin. I would really scrub the skin on my vegetables in hopes of washing off all pesticides. I avoided the use of my microwave and cordless phones. I would only use laundry and dish detergent made from natural sources. Before my teaching career, I worked at a casino, and each day I would insist on working on the nonsmoking floor to avoid inhaling second-hand smoke. I remember getting into a heated discussion with the casino's general manager about the unhealthy working conditions he was allowing his employees to work under. Needless to say, he was not at all impressed by my opinion, and I soon learned to keep my thoughts to myself if I wanted to continue working there.

My mother would often tell me that I was acting in the same manner as my father. As I reflect back, she was right. Soon after my father's brother passed away from cancer, my father became fearful of the disease as well. I remember my father becoming a health fanatic soon after. He would begin shopping at health food stores and only purchased all-natural health care products. He cut down on eating red meat and often advised me to do so as well. He began exercising and eating plenty of fruits and vegetables, and he cut back on sugary foods. I remember my dad bragging about how youthful he looked due to his lifestyle changes, but I remember his fear as well. When I was thirteen years old, I remember my dad visiting various doctors whenever he suspected there was something wrong with him. When I would ask my mother about his visits, she would always say that he wanted to make sure he didn't have cancer.

My father and I shared the same fear. We both had a loved one die from cancer and automatically felt that we must be next. From where did this fear originate?

Many experts believe that cancer runs in the family, that there is a genetic component, but I now believe it runs much deeper than that. Soon after my diagnosis, I was shocked to listen to countless stories of people sharing with me how scared they were of getting cancer as well. One friend even said that her doctor stated that it wasn't a matter of if someone would get cancer but when.

Why this great fear? Can we place partial blame on a society that is bombarding us with endless stories that foster fear-based thinking?

There have been countless studies suggesting, in short, that everything gives you cancer. Outside the cancer facility where I received my cancer treatments hung a banner that read, "One in three people will get cancer." Imagine the fear-based thoughts this message is sending not only to the commuters who walk or drive by this banner each day but also to the cancer patients and their families. Imagine the thoughts that would be elicited from a banner that read, "More people are living healthier and longer lives than ever before." This fact is true. However, it is rarely given as much publicity.

In addition to being consumed by fear-based thoughts, I also used to lack a sense of joy. I had wonderful family and friends, but I was simply going through the motions. I was very fortunate to have gone back to work half time after my son turned one year of age. In many people's eyes, I had a perfect life. I taught in the morning and was home with my son by 12:30 p.m. He would take his nap, and I would often take one as well. I would have the rest of the day playing with my son. This was so ideal! However, I wasn't feeling the joy. Although my son's love was indescribable, I neglected myself. My main objective was meeting all of my family's physical and emotional needs, and at the end of the day, that didn't leave any time for me. I was simply going through life's motions, ignoring any opportunity for self-nurturance and attention. I didn't even bother to take notice of the awkwardness of my right breast while nursing my son, something I would have been on top of years earlier.

CHAPTER 2

"Within each of us is a spark. Call it a divine spark if you will, but it is there and can light the way to health. There are no incurable diseases, only incurable people."

— Bernie Siegel, M.D.

I decided it was time to make an appointment for my physical examination. I hadn't had one since my son was born almost three years earlier. I remember being very consistent with my yearly physicals and self-breast examinations prior to having my son. I decided it was time to get back on track.

During my physical exam, my doctor felt a lump but wasn't very concerned because I was young (forty years old) and my breasts had always been lumpy and dense. My physician scheduled a mammogram just in case and told me that she would contact me only if there were any concerns. A few months passed, and I felt good that I hadn't received a phone call; I assumed my breasts were fine. However, I recall a conversation I had with a neighbor about her cancer experience. She stated that her mammogram didn't detect her tumor but an ultrasound did. This conversation motivated me to call my doctor to arrange an ultrasound appointment.

I was advised to pick up my mammogram report so that the ultrasound technician could refer to it. When I picked up and read the report, it stated that the findings suggested changes of scierosing adenosis. Since I wasn't familiar with this term, I did on online search and saw that it said that if you had this condition, you also had a 50 percent chance of developing cancer.

Needless to say, I was shocked. My doctor never mentioned this to me. In the meantime, an ultrasound was taken on my right breast. I met with my doctor to discuss the results. My doctor was pleased to inform me that the results indicated I had two cysts located beside each other and that was the cause of the lump. I was happy to hear the good news. At this time, I handed her my mammogram report and shared with her the information I had researched. She stated that if I wished, she could...