Fourteen months ago, a biopsy came back positive for NHL cancer.
Three months ago the CT scan showed No Evidence of Disease.
Between those two mile markers lies the collective set of experiences that are recalled as ” the cancer journey” or sometimes “descent into the cancer world”.
Assessing what I wanted to happen after death to my physical possessions, what to go to who etc.
Trying to find out how I could pay for health insurance if I were too sick to work. ( a curiously American problem among supposedly developed nations)
Choosing therapies based on abysmal track records of efficacy, unacceptable side effects or limited information.
All that to start with.
Structuring this life in every way imaginable around getting better from an otherwise fatal ( if chronic ) disease.
Practicing manifesting for good health and maximal well-being.
Spending hours practicing Kundalini Yoga kriyas for the immune system, for the lymphatic system, for strengthening the entire body.
Sitting in front of a red light/IR device pointed directly on the affected area, or inside the hyperbaric oxygen chamber.
Talking and listening to many people who had way more serious cancer situations than I did.
And now, where is it all ?
Where did it go ?
How can I tell it even happened?
There is physical evidence: bills and receipts, membership in a Lymphoma newsletter, a dozen daily supplements and the ketogenic foods I must eat still. The body is a bit lighter than it used to be, and physical energy has recovered.
But looking back into the experience itself, no matter how rich it felt, how vivid, how immediate, I cannot find it residing anyplace but in memory.
Cloud photo courtesy of JPL.