Ageless by Suzanne Somers -- must read, especially for all the women I know.

"So you can imagine my surprise when my gynecologist told me that I had a pre-precancerous condition (not cancer, not even precancer) growing in my uterus and that in order to prevent possible severe problems down the road, I would need to have my uterus removed." - Suzanne Somers.

She's now my hero, every page is a tearjerker.


Taking Charge of Your Own Health
"To remain oblivious to the hidden regenerative processes inside your body will cause you to die unnecessarily young."
— Ray Kurzweil and Terry Grossman, MD, Fantastic Voyage

Five years have passed, and as of this writing I have now been happily pronounced cancer-free. What a relief. No longer does each ache and pain trigger a fear in me of "Oh God, is 'it' coming back again?"

Cancer does that to you. It's an inner nagging, a constant reminder that there could be something bigger than yourself lurking out there in the shadows, sitting back, like a predator, deciding when and if it cares to strike again. Now, finally, I can release that fear. The predator has been locked up, in prison, hopefully never to be let out again.

Along the way in this war I have been fighting have come the blessings. I am truly loved by those who mean the most to me. They showed me this over and over during this time. Through it all, I learned about my own strength and courage. I didn't know I had it in me to buck the system by choosing unconventional therapies and doing it my way. But you see, I was never able to wrap my arms around the "standard of care" set forth by Western medicine as the way to treat cancer.

more here: http://www.oprah.com/article/oprahshow/20090128_tows_somersageless/3

Just A Little Bit Caught In The Middle

A few weeks ago, i was in a 'hope for the best and prepare for the worst.' attitude. I kept myself numb just in case I get the worst. Is it just fibroid or is it cancer? I might have escaped cancer but the surgery is non-negotiable. It was sometime after the surgery when I got the surgical pathology report results at hand.

Diagnosis: Intramural Leiomyoma, Secretory Endometrium, Endocervical Polyp, Chronic Cervicitis with focal squamous metaplasia and nabothian cyst. Unremarkable fallopian tubes. Hemorrhagic Lutein Cyst, left ovary. Cystic follicles, right and left ovaries. 

Good News: No Cancer. 

Bad News: Bye Babymaker. So many cysts, including an 11.5 cm in diameter inside the uterus. No choice but to be Ganap na Bakla.

After all that has happened, I want to shout it out to the world... I did it! I did it! (and then add a little colorful swearing in the end... I'll leave it up to your imagination.). The grace of having a second chance in life didn't dawn on me when my doctor said 'The memory of the operation will fade and you can get on with your life.' It didn't dawn on me when I was finally able to eat anything. It didn't dawn on me when I was about to ride the plane.

It dawned on me after being deeply touched by the love of my family and friends. It dawned on me after watching those people who though I tried to stay away still had the heart to sought me out had found me and stayed with me through the tough times and the endless waiting.

I am still a work-in-progress. I still have that after-6-months-check-up, dreading the whole process of nurses poking you and going through that waiting period again. But it is still so far away. There is still the challenge to face my ordinary everyday life. To slowly learn everything again.

This week was my week of experiments. I tried to walk longer than 10 minutes. I tried to ride the mrt (for two stations, yey!). I ate in a kopitiam, carrying a heavy tray (which the doctor would have advised against, but i did it anyway and will not do so again, I promise). I went out with my friend for lunch and coffee. I went to a movie. I tried to walk as fast as other people do. The latter was a bit painful, but I'm glad nobody noticed.

I know I've abused it when I start feeling feverish. The minute I do, I stop everything. I stay quiet for a moment and just let the pain pass. It doesn't happen too much now. But my common sense does tell me that I still need to take it easy for at least a little while. There's just always the feeling of utter exhaustion. In short, I'm succeeding to pretend I'm normal. So successful that people are starting to forget. And I hope it continues 'til I am back to normal again.

There are times when I wake up feeling overjoyed to just watch the sun rising up from my window. I was never a sentimental person. Not until now. And ironically, I'm thankful for that. To be able to appreciate great things in my life like a little bit of sunshine. It's a humbling experience.

They say it last for a while. Until life starts to lock you in again to an endless routine.

So I decided to write this with the hope that I'll always remember this celebratory feeling - that whatever life sends from now on, you have this to say "I survived this... the next one should be easy."