My adventure could have ended there. Tumor, travel, healing, home. But that’s without counting on the incredible depth of this change of life. I am caught up in the flow of events, without hindsight, laid bare between pain and emotions. In this space, there are no more decisions to make, no more plans to make, simply living from day to day, trying to survive this tidal wave that is turning my life upside down.
When I leave the Ashram of Ratu Bagus, I naively imagine that my “process” will stop when I pass through the portal. Mistake. It’s even the opposite, leaving this place of high vibration, I come out of an energy cocoon.
I had planned to spice up this adventure a little more (I thought I will coming back in great shape…) by scheduling a one-day stop to Singapore between my two flights. It turns out to be more painful than expected but the spasms subsides after a nap in the botanical garden which allows me to go and admire the Orchid Garden. For me, these are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen, their shapes, colors and textures: pure beauty. Reinvigorated by nature and the beauty of flowers, I return to the airport for the evening flight to Paris. Mission accomplished, it was not easy but I admit that it was worth the detour.
I arrive in the greyness of late February in Paris with a big suitcase and exhausted little muscles. The journey between the airport and the train station is difficult. The metro is an ordeal. Steps, steps and more steps. Once it goes up, once it goes down. At one point I realize that with each difficulty, a person spontaneously offers for help me. It is then enough for me to accept to receive to be able to advance, and small detail, to arrive in time to have my train. This is a great awareness for me ! I’m finally going home after a month of adventures. I’m tired. I still can’t eat. I feed on fast sugars.
In my desire to get my life back, I try to go back to work. I wouldn’t even last a day, the pain is coming back. My body expresses itself… I don’t understand anything. I call SOS doctor, who extends my sick leave by a few days until the additional examinations. It was the PET scan that I postponed to go to Bali.
In the series “I test on my body”, I try an experiment and embark on a liver cleanse, Dr Clark for those who know. Total failure, I vomit everything… and will understand why later.
The day of the PET scan arrives. My sister, faithful to the post, accompanie me in a clinic. Good patient, I comply, the infusion of the tracer, raise your arms, lower your arms, inflate your lungs, don’t move… it’s over. The scanner is interpreted immediately. The cold shower. I have a bowel obstruction. I hadn’t even thought of that. Everything is explained !
I have to go to the emergency room. Triage is fast, the clinic has announced my arrival. In a treatment room, they ask my sister to get ou,t to insert a gastric tube (through my nose). When she comes back, she finds me in a state of shock, I look like a chicken. One thing is certain, my nasal passages are far too small, I will have to talk to my parents about it.
A divining emergency doctor ventures to explain to me that the tumor in the appendix has exploded and created intestinal obstruction. I think back to my trip, those days spent throwing up, the money spent… probably a monstrous mistake.
This is when an arm wrestlingbegins. The medical profession wants to send me to a specialized clinic so that the operation of the occlusion is followed by chemo. The blocks of the hospital are not equipped for that. I categorically refuse: no chemo. After a few hours in the hallway, they end up hospitalizing me on the spot in the gastro service.
The next day I encounter a technical problem, my gastric tube gets blocked regularly, which prevents my stomach from emptying. No choice, I have (again) to vomit. And with a probe in the nose, it’s not easy! The nurses don’t understand what’s going on, I have a small idea after seeing flax seeds with swollen mucilage pass through the transparent tube of the probe. This is my pre-hospital snack… note for later, avoid flax seeds before using a gastric tube.
The arm wrestling continues, I hold 2 days. Then my parents arrive, I see them worried, I’m exhausted, I let go. Never mind, come what may, do what you want, I give up.
And there, a miracle. A young intern arrives in my room, scanner in hand, telling me that he does not see a tumor and that he is ready to operate the occlusion alone. Literally ready, in the next hour, I’m at the block.
It’s strange to say but just before anesthesia is my favorite moment (it’s the 6th operation). I can let go, I no longer have the burden of responsibility and when I wake up, it will all be over. But this time, it’s not a laparoscopy but a colectomy and when I wake up it’s actually over, but I have the feeling that they forgot the anesthesia. And no matter how much I press the morphine pump, there’s like a second layer of pain that won’t go away.
I remain hospitalized for two weeks. My mother is very caring, a former occupational therapist, she is like a fish in water. My father… I haven’t seen him much.
Since the tumor was no longer there (and obviously hadn’t exploded), the doctors thought it was a misdiagnosis. I don’t see any other explanation. But the analyzes came back positive for Pseudomyxoma. There were a few cancer cells left in the removed colon. No one asks me what I did for a month.
My explanation is simple, the Shaking restarted the metabolism which cleaned the tumor. But the too damaged tissues of the colon at the level of the appendix have glued, hence the occlusion.
In this adventure I realize that doctors love diagnoses, protocols and surgery. And if a healing does not go through this path, if it goes out of their area of knowledge, they don’t care.
I go home still having lost weight and muscle. I begin a period of rehabilitation. Each progress is a victory : my transit return, take a shower, walk alone and end up with anti-phlebitis bites. My Grall : go shopping alone at the local supermarket!
These weeks have been the most painful of my life. And at that moment I thought I was cured… physically anyway. But life decided otherwise and my quest for healing would soon lead me to Spain. To be continued in the next episode !