Catching Up

Four months have passed. I apologize for my utter lack of communication. Life had started to become a giant rollercoaster, and I've spent so much time half asleep, blindly stumbling through each day. I had no interest in writing, nor even checking the blogspot. This is the first time I have logged in and loaded it up since February.

In January, we discovered from Adam's MRI that the three small lesions that were present at the beginning of his new treatment had now fused into one moderately-sized tumor. Four months of intravenous treatments, a strict vegetarian diet, daily detoxing treatments consisting of sauna and coffee enemas, handfulls of vitamins and cancer-fighting supplements... all of it had yielded disappointing results. I started to see the very real probability that Adam might not achieve the healing we had all been hoping and praying for. I started losing control of the house little by little. Homeschooling dropped off completely, I stopped cleaning, grocery shopping and cooking became a tiresome chore. My mother started coming nearly everyday to wash dishes and take dirty laundry back to her house.

Suddenly in March, Adam had a sudden surge in symptoms. Blue flashing lights in his peripheral vision, whooshing in the ears, headaches, neck pain, a mysterious bout of jaundice, stomach pains, alternating diarrhea and constipation, confusion, and memory loss. For over a week, I desperately tried to get the attention of one of Adam's doctors. The New York doctor didn't get my messages and was out of the office. The Aldie doctor was in Africa. I had nearly fallen apart completely, when I spoke to the IV nurse in Aldie, and she convinced another doctor to see Adam. She and I both agreed that the tumor was causing the symptoms, but Adam was frantic to find other possible causes. Finally, an MRI was ordered and I could see from the images that there seemed to be two tumors with lots of glowing white matter. Glowing is bad. Glowing means “active”. We waited yet another week, with one maddening delay after another dragging out the release of the official radiology report. I had been wrong in my unprofessional assessment. It was one large tumor with a sizable necrotic hole in the center. Necrotic means dead tissue. Necrosis is great when it's on the outside of the tumor, because it means the chosen treatment is killing the tumor and it is shrinking. Necrosis on the inside is never good. This means the tumor is outgrowing it's blood supply, and is aggressively increasing in strength and size.

I expected Adam's doctors to be honest with him. I expected them to admit defeat and wish him well, as they had reached the limits of their healing ability. I would have had infinite respect for them if they had done so. But, they didn't. Adam's New York doctor was full of hope and told us not to be alarmed. There was still a chance!! We can still turn this around!! We'll just administer the vitamin C infusions at the highest dose and change from an alpha lipoic acid complex to straight alpha lipoic acid. That's all. That was the new plan. I was not happy with the new plan. I was not happy at all. A trench started to open between Adam and I as I became more and more frustrated with the apparent uselessness of continuing the same treatment with only a subtle tweak, while Adam clung to the changes convinced that THIS would finally knock this pesky tumor on its head.

I was tired of tip-toeing around and pretending that everything was going to be okay. I needed support. Lots of it. A friend suggested contacting hospice and exploring their services. I liked what I heard, and I convinced Adam to meet with them as well. I was falling apart, and I needed hospice! We met with them, and after an initial resistance, Adam agreed that it was a good move. We now had 24-hour emergency support should something happen. They equipped me with an emergency kit in case Adam suddenly had a massive seizure, a nurse was assigned to come once a week and monitor Adam's health, a doctor assigned to his case if needed, and I was able to secure the help of a counselor (for me) once a week. We also began a relationship with the social services liaison, who helped me navigate the complex web of applying for benefits (which we didn't qualify for) and getting Adam on disability (which he did qualify for). Finally a music therapist started coming once a week for the kids, and we all love her and look forward to Friday mornings. I can't say enough about how wonderful hospice has been to us and how infinitely valuable their support is right now.

After a rough week of uncomfortable and disorienting symptoms, Adam suddenly started feeling better. Except for the odd blue flash or mild headache, Adam felt fine. I had already asked my in-laws to come over as soon as possible and so the month of April was spent in a flurry of activity. Adam's parents came and cleaned up the place (which it desperately needed) and renovated our living room with a fresh paint job (which really helped lift our spirits). But most of all, they were able to help with driving Adam to the clinic, because now Adam and I both felt that with the disturbances in vision it was best that he not get behind the wheel.

Unfortunately, with my in-laws departure at the end of April, both of us were left without any distraction. Neither of us noticed the other falling into a depression, but it was happening. I started dipping into the vodka or whiskey bottle nearly every day for an afternoon cocktail, while Adam became less patient with the kids and less motivated to try and run his already slowing business. Every time he would have a moderate headache or bout of indigestion, I would panic and fall apart on the inside, slipping deeper and deeper into the hole. We received a donation from a friend halfway through the month of May with the instructions to “Go and have fun!” So we did. We saw a film at the Alamo cinema and planned a day at Kings Dominion. The night before our trip, Adam had his worst episode yet. Complete lack of appetite and nausea coupled with a very painful stabbing headache behind his right eye. For the first time we discussed the need for steroids, and I told the children we may not be able to go to the amusement park as planned. But, miraculously, the next morning Adam felt fine so we packed up some steroids in tablet and injectable form just in case, and had an absolutely wonderful day. Adam had another similar episode a week later, but otherwise has felt okay.

After our new and exciting foray into actually enjoying life and having fun, I suggested to Adam that we try and make a habit of it. Our separate depressions were dividing us as a married couple, and were slowly destroying our family. I had hit rock-bottom, was starting to develop a drinking problem, and had cut myself off from friends as I started withdrawing deeper into my depression and away from my husband and children. Something had to change. So I suggested a total paradigm shift. Instead of focusing on the negative, on the tragedy that might be approaching in the near future, what if we focused on today. Just today. I know. Everyone says we should take one day at a time and focus on the present. I'm telling you now, it is near-enough impossible when we are facing our reality. But, we are going to try. We have decided to commit to finding one small thing everyday to try and lift our spirits. Maybe an unscheduled movie night. A walk to the playground. Sitting on the floor and playing just one game instead of saying “I wish I could, but I have to start dinner”. So far we are doing it. And changes are happening. The house is a little bit cleaner, and we have started homeschooling again. I'm enjoying preparing meals a little more, and the warmer weather is making it much easier to go outside and get a little sunshine. Adam and I are back to normal, and really making the most of everyday. We've discovered Downton Abbey, and try to watch an episode each night after the kids go to bed, instead of me jumping on Facebook and Adam working on his radio blog. It feels good, and I am starting to feel whole again. Sure, we don't know what's coming, or what tomorrow or next week will be like. But, for today, we are just going to talk about today. And today is good.

Be Still

We're stuck in a holding pattern. Lately, I have seen and heard so many references to one particular biblical passage: Be still and know that I am God. So that is what we are doing. The cold, gray and dreary winter we are having seems to be helping us do just that. We don't go out much. Homeschooling has slowed to a pathetic crawl once again. We do the bare minimum in all things, except for Adam's protocol. He continues to walk 3 miles, take a coffee detox, spend 30 minutes in the sauna, and eat a strict sugar-free vegetarian diet. He travels to the clinic twice a week for infusions. Everyday is eaten up by his cancer protocol, and leaves only a handful of hours each week to devote to the business. Even that is only just creeping along. Thanks be to God, we still continue to receive donations from family, friends and the community to keep us up to date on bills. Without the generosity of countless people, we would have lost the house long ago.

Adam's last MRI in January was disappointing. His three little peanut-sized lesions from August have now banded together into a sizable walnut. Both of Adam's doctors, here and in New York are scratching their heads. His chiropractor and nutritionist are scratching their heads. Adam is scratching his head. Nobody can understand it. He is doing absolutely ev-er-y-thing right. There is no obvious reason as to why his tumor should still be growing.

But, I keep hearing “Be still and know that I am God.” Adam's doctor suggested stopping the B17 for now, and replacing it with something called Salvestrol. He is now receiving Poly MVA via IV on infusion days. Adam now has the sauna, thanks to the donations of several organizations, and is faithfully using it everyday. He continues to hope that these changes will make the difference. He is still positive and focused on beating this cancer.

I, however, have changed my view. When I saw the images of the January MRI on our computer, a part of me died. The part that thought that anything I could do would save my husband. I'm not in charge here. God is. And God in all His perfect Wisdom has deemed it necessary for Adam to go through this. And for I, his wife, to go through my own related suffering. No diet, no magic supplement, no exercise regimen or detoxing treatment will rid Adam of his brain tumor. If God's hand is gently cradling that tumor, and making it grow despite everything we've tried, than that is His will. And His will is perfect. After finding my way out of the emotional devastation of last month, and the unfathomable disappointment and immeasurable fear of losing my husband, I am now in a new place. Acceptance and complete surrender. Here is a quote from a book titled “Trustful Surrender to Divine Providence” for you to chew on for a minute:

"To remain indifferent to good fortune or to adversity by accepting it all from the hand of God without questioning, not to ask for things to be done as we would like them but as God wishes, to make the intention of all our prayers that God's will should be perfectly accomplished in ourselves and in all creatures is to find the secret of happiness and content."

The secret of happiness. It sounds pretty good, doesn't it? It also sounds a bit crazy. Accepting all? Like, even the bad stuff? Who would think that accepting poverty, suffering, humiliation and failure could possibly make us happy? But, I think it can. Ever since I've turned this corner and started accepting this past year and a half as entirely within the control and intent of God, I feel so relieved. A weight has been lifted and all the soul-destroying fear is gone. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being widowed. Fear about money and whether we will eventually lose the house I love, and fear of having to support a family with three children on my own... it's gone. Well, to be honest it still bobs up to the surface from time to time (fluctuating hormones seem to make that happen), but I feel an overwhelming peace. You know the one. “The peace of God which surpasses all understanding” that St Paul writes about in his letter to the Philippians. It really exists, and it's wonderful. It goes against every fiber of my being, but when I can push my pathetic human reasoning aside, it opens up into a beautiful and comforting place. If I can find this place, then absolutely anyone can. My prayer these days is not for Adam's healing. God knows my preference here. I don't need to tell him anymore. But, I am asking Him to bring Adam over here with me to this peaceful place. We are already riding one horrible roller coaster. Why not let God envelop us with His love and perfect intention for us, and ride it out filled with joy? Why not, indeed.

The Hardest Journey

I don't even know how to begin writing this post. I haven't written in a long time, and it feels strange doing so. I used to love to blog. I really did. I loved researching topics and sharing with friends and family all the things Adam and I were learning. But, last month something happened that devastated me. It devastated me so deeply, that I find it very difficult to write and share my feelings anymore. This blog was my pride and joy. But, I discovered that a small group of people were taking my words, distorting them, and presenting them in a way to defend their own beliefs about alternative cancer therapies. The choices that Adam has made regarding his cancer treatment were ridiculed. And comments were made by readers that implied that I was an overbearing wife, forcing my ignorant beliefs on my husband, and therefore costing him his chances of survival. It still hurts writing about it nearly one month later.

There is a hard-core group of skeptics out there who insist that the Burzynski treatment is a scam. They have never had cancer. They have never been to the Burzynski clinic, nor have they ever received treatment there. They do not know one single person who has been a patient at that clinic, and they have no evidence of any former patient being dissatisfied with the treatment received at the Burzynski clinic. But, they have their beliefs. Fine. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. The problem is they are taking excerpts from patient's blogs about their struggles with cancer, twisting them, and presenting them as damning facts in an attempt to prove that Dr. Burzynski is a charlatan. The most shocking are the judgmental statements about parents who chose the antineoplaston treatment for their son or daughter, and watched their dear child lose their battle despite the treatment. I was angry about the way they used Adam's story, but I cried for the parents who lost their children to brain cancer, and the callous way someone could showcase their story on a website, only to ridicule their decision.

Let me say this about the Burzynski Clinic. Keep in mind I have been there. I was there for 5 weeks. I met Dr. Burzynski several times, and met nearly everyone that works in his clinic. His treatment works. It does not work for everyone, but it does work for some. He doesn't claim a 100% cure rate. But, I know people who have been cured by his treatment. On our journey, Adam and I have met a lot of people with brain cancer. Most of those people we met through the clinic. And some of them are cancer-free today. And it is due solely to the Burzynski treatment.

One last point about the patients of the Burzynski Clinic. The skeptics would have you believe that everyone that walks through the doors of Dr. Burzynski's building is clueless, ignorant, and has been unfairly taken advantage of. The patients I met were the most educated people I have ever met regarding modern medicine and cancer treatment. And I mean all cancer treatments, including the conventional methods. They have spent thousands upon thousands of hours reading about chemotherapy, radiation, all the cancer drugs available, what is available in clinical trials, and every alternative approach ever attempted to defeat cancer. They know it all. They know the statistics and have read all the studies. They often know more about cancer than many oncologists. They understand how and why it develops, and they understand how it can be controlled. I am proud to be a part of this club. And we all found our way to the same place.

All that said, I now want to share something I discovered today. Often in alternative circles, one statistic regarding chemotherapy gets thrown around a lot. The 2% thing. A study was conducted in Australia regarding survival rates of cancer, and the conclusion was that chemo only improved survival rates by an average of 2%. That doesn't mean that only 2% of cancer patients receiving chemo survive past the 5 year mark. But, some people have wrongly interpreted it that way. What it really means is that if everyone that has ever been told they have cancer, be it Stage 1 prostate cancer or Stage 4 lung cancer, has an average “survival” rate of 60%, then chemo will increase that percentage by 2%. The term “survival” or “cure” refers to the 5 year mark in the cancer world. If you live 5 years after your diagnosis, you are considered cured. If you die one week later, you still maintain your place on the cure list. Now, if you have a 60% chance of making it to 5 years, then this study proved that chemotherapy will increase your chance by 2%. So, after chemo, you will have a 62% chance of survival. It's different from the idea that only 2% of chemo patients “make it”, but it isn't exactly a glowing report either. And it depends entirely on the type of cancer. According to other studies, cancer patients with high grade astrocytomas have a 3% survival rate. According to the Australia study, brain cancer patients who receive chemotherapy increase their survival rate by 3.7%. Now you might say that doubles their chances, and you would be right. Having a 6.7% chance of living for 5 more years does sound better than a 3% chance, but then you have to consider the side effects of chemo and the quality of life you could expect afterwards. The quality of life issue is a major deciding factor for Adam, and that is why he feels so strongly against trying any sort of chemotherapy. For others, it may not be a factor, and therefore choosing to try chemo makes sense. That's the thing about cancer. Every single patient is on their own journey. Every single patient has to decide what is right for them. Many people have complete faith in the medical system, adore their doctor, and will do whatever they are advised to do. They aren't crazy about researching, or maybe they just aren't very good at it. Or maybe they have read the studies and countless books about cancer, and have reached the conclusion that for their cancer, for their stage in life, and for their particular situation that modern medicine is the only way to go. I would never criticize or judge anyone for the choices they made regarding their cancer treatment. REGARDLESS of how it turned out. Adam and I have spent a full year learning everything we possibly can about cancer. We have dedicated ourselves to researching different aspects of cancer development and treatment, and have combined our knowledge and decided together (with God's confirming signs) how to proceed. We have absolutely no regrets. And I sincerely hope that no one else on this incredibly difficult journey has regrets either. We are all doing the best we can, and we all have the same hope and dream. And that is just to live as many more days as possible.

Living Food

I haven't been seized by the desire to write about a particular topic this week, so I thought I might post a few recipes. You may be wondering what we do for breakfast around here. Then again, you may not. Either way, I'm going to share our morning routine with you! I get up around 6:30am and shuffle around the kitchen bumping into the dining table for about 20 minutes. Once I finally gain my bearings, I prepare Phase 1 of breakfast. In this house you get two choices for breakfast: muesli or hot porridge. Ali, Finlay and I prefer the cold cereal, so we get to eat first. Also, Finlay gets picked up for school at 7:50am, so I need to make sure he's fed early. My muesli recipe is pretty easy. I keep a large Rubbermaid container filled with a mixture of 2/3 organic rice puffs, and 1/3 organic millet puffs. After this goes into the bowls, it's time for the toppings. The kids like to sprinkle their own toppings on if they happen to be up, otherwise I do it. I get out unsalted sunflower seeds, unsweetened shredded coconut, chopped pecans, and raisins. After all these are sprinkled over the cereal, I finish off with a sliced banana. The boys can choose whether they want unsweetened coconut milk or almond milk. These days they are going through an almond milk stage, but I prefer the coconut milk. There's more fat in it. And I'm a big fan of fat.

Once the younger boys are taken care of, and Finlay is off to school, then I start Phase 2. Calum and Adam prefer porridge, so I make oatmeal. I make a batch large enough for three days, so I don't have to prepare it from scratch every morning. If you aren't a big fan of oat porridge, then you really should try this recipe. It's really really good. Unfortunately for me, when I eat porridge I'm starving 30 minutes later. It just doesn't hold me like the muesli does. Anyway, I bring two cups of unsweetened coconut milk plus two cups of water to a boil. I add two cups of rolled oats, and lower the heat to medium-low. Let this simmer with the lid on for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. When it's done I add one tablespoon of organic unsalted butter, one teaspoon of vanilla extract, and one teaspoon of cinnamon. Calum likes sunflower seeds, brown sugar and sliced banana on his. Adam gets ground flax seeds, banana, and chopped walnuts with a splash of coconut milk. As you can see, we go through a ton of bananas. The boys snack on them as well, so we devour a large bunch daily.

This probably sounds like a lot of work for so early in the morning. It is. I also spend a good two hours in the kitchen preparing lunch, and then another two hours again to prepare dinner. I spend an awful lot of time in my kitchen each and every day. Good thing I really like my kitchen. I know most of you would never dream of spending so much time preparing food everyday. Luckily, I love to cook. I've always prepared food from scratch and have always made the effort to cook a really healthy homemade dinner every night. Now I've had to step up my game to the ultimate level. If you don't have developmental delays, neurological conditions, food allergies, chronic migraines and cancer represented in your household, you may struggle to find the motivation to spend so much time and energy preparing meals. But, you may have other motivations. Perhaps you have seasonal allergies, joint pain, insomnia, excess weight, PMS, asthma, or any other number of various ailments plaguing your family members. It might be time to re-think the way you use your kitchen, and what positive changes you can make to your dietary health.

If you haven't seen these before, take a look:

 

These are Kirlian images of a tomato. The tomato on the left is raw, and those little beams of light are energy being emitted from that little raw vegetable. The tomato on the right has been lightly steamed. The energy has been dimished somewhat, but there is still evidence of a life-giving force coming from within the tomato. I haven't been able to find Kirlian images of, say, a Stouffers lasagna, but I would be willing to bet that there aren't any beams of light shooting out from within it. We've heard it all before, that whole foods are better for us. But, look at those photos! It's more than a simple case of fat, calories and carbs. Whole foods contain valuable vitamins and minerals, but they also contain beautiful radiating energy. Here's something else you can't measure in a lab. Recently I watched a YouTube video of a pale thin raw vegan chef making kale chips. She had a breathy voice and a very airy way about her, which I found mildly annoying, BUT she said something that really grabbed me. She said that she really likes to handle her food as much as possible while preparing it. She feels that through her hands she can take advantage of that radiating energy, and make it hers. I can totally see that. I've been tempted to acquire a food processor to help me with the endless chopping, shredding, and dicing. But, I think the vegan chef is right. When I handle vegetables all day long, washing, peeling, dicing, chopping, and slicing, I'm exposed to that radiating force within it. That is just as nourishing as eating the food once it's prepared. I also have a very firm belief in the X-Factor of homemade foods. I am convinced that when I prepare and cook food completely from scratch, using my loving hands, that MY energy is transmitted to the food. That energy and love then travels into my husband and children when they consume what I've prepared. The secret ingredient is love, people. Maybe it's sounds a bit crazy, but we all know the unspecified power of homemade food prepared by none other than Mom. You are missing out on so much when your diet consists primarily of processed food. That Stouffers lasagna has been prepared by a machine. Where's the love? It ain't there. If your children eat cereal from a box for breakfast, bologna on commercial bread with potato chips for lunch, and a rotisserie chicken with frozen peas for dinner... you haven't actually touched any of it. There has been no transmission of your love through the food into your family. We have been preparing food the good old fashioned way since Adam and Eve, and only in the past generation have we gotten so far removed from the basic art and pleasure of cooking food for our families. I know everyone is busy, and many women work outside the home. But, it is possible, even if only a few dinners a week, to make a simple meal from scratch for the sake of your health, and the health of your family. I can put together a salad, broiled fish, and homemade potato wedges in 30 minutes. You can find a few recipes that everyone enjoys and that you can lovingly prepare in a short amount of time. And you will reap the benefits of handling that food as well. Now get in that kitchen!

The Sky is Falling!

Finally. I've been trying to get to the computer to blog for a couple of weeks now, but the problem is every time I find a few precious minutes I discover the computer has been shut down. Along with the television, DVD player and Wii. Power strips are commonly found switched off. The iPods are kept on airplane mode and safely stored high where little hands can't reach them. That's right. We are slowly converting to the Amish religion. I haven't used my microwave in nearly a week. Adam is still working from his office upstairs, which requires a computer, but for the most part we are really trying to minimize our use of electrical objects. And I'm about to tell you why!

I know you guys are starting to think of us as a little bit wacko. We've gone vegetarian. We tossed the cell phones and cordless landlines in favor of good ol' fashioned corded phones. We have various homemade concoctions lining our bathtub and bathroom sink. We juice and make vegetable smoothies several times a day. We put coffee up our bums (and like it). I know I'm tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge, and pretty soon I may find myself in a well-meaning intervention meeting with my friends. But, I'm not gone yet. I'm not yet standing on a box in the center of Berryville, unwashed, with soiled clothing and crazed eyes, shaking my fist at the sky and yelling, “Repent, repent! The end is nigh!” I haven't joined the Lyndon LaRouche supporters outside the post office. Although, politically speaking, I think they might find me a bit too fringe for their liking (the Illuminati have control of the whole world and there is no hope for us except to become hermits and shield our children from their evil agenda).

Adam started doing research into electromagnetic frequencies a few weeks back, and has uncovered a lot of interesting information. Many people have asked upon hearing about Adam's condition, “Is it the cell phones?” The answer is “yes” (just like, “Do vaccines cause autism?.... YES) If you have a sneaking suspicion that holding a cell phone up to your skull for hours a day might have negative effects on the brain held within, then your instincts are trying to tell you something. A 2007 study from Sweden (I love Sweden) showed an increased risk of brain tumors in subjects who had been using cell phones for at least 10 years. Another Swedish study (have I mentioned I love Sweden?) showed that children regularly exposed to 3mG (milligauss) or more of electromagnetic frequency (EMF) had 4 times the rate of leukemia. In the same study, adults who where exposed to 3mG or higher of EMF at their place of work had 3 times the rate of leukemia. 8 other studies have reported increased risks of several different types of cancer relative to the subject's proximity to power lines. So where do we find EMFs? Pretty much anything electrical will emit EMFs. Power lines, fuse boxes, the computer, the fridge, the microwave, your clock radio, and cell phones among many other things we use everyday. Anytime you are seated next to or are holding an electrical item, waves of electromagnetic energy run through your body. But, how does that affect us? We don't really know. One theory is that electromagnetic energy disrupts our body's ability to produce melatonin. In animal studies, rats exposed to increased levels of EMF had decreased levels of melatonin. However, in similar studies with sheep and baboons, their melatonin levels were unaffected. One study on humans did show decreased melatonin levels in subjects who already had low melatonin levels when they were exposed to EMFs, but those subjects within the normal range seemed to be unaffected. Melatonin, if you don't know, is a hormone released by the pineal gland that slows cancer growth, among many other important functions. If people who are deficient in melatonin are exposed to EMFs, their already increased cancer risk may have just gone up. That's worth noting.

Adam decided that for his birthday he really wanted an EMF meter to take some readings around the house. Based on the Swedish studies, some groups have determined the maximum safe exposure of EMFs to be at 3mG. In most of the rooms of our house, the ambient EMF level is about 1 ½mG. That's good. But start moving closer to the electrical items, and interesting things start happening. The stereo (when playing a CD) went up to 100 at point blank range. You need to back up at least a foot before it falls back down to 3mG. The microwave when OFF went up to 100 at point blank range, but fell back down to 3mG less than a foot away. However, when we turned it ON the needle again went off the charts, and we needed to back a full 6 FEET away from the unit before the needle went back down to 3mG. That's shocking. Especially when I realized that having a built-in unit above the stove is the most dangerous decision we could have made 3 years ago when we had our kitchen done. How many times have I stood with my head less than 6 inches away from a running microwave because I was also tending to food cooking on the stove. Frightening. We had a lot of fun testing the TV, Wii, clock radio, computer hard drives, computer monitors, and everything else we could think of. All of them had shockingly high readings at point blank range. It is really important not to sleep right next to an alarm clock. It's also important to make sure you are always at least 3 feet away from your computer screen. If you are at an arm's length, you are okay. If your teenage daughter sleeps with her cell phone under her pillow, run (don't walk) and go get her an MRI. Today. Okay I'm kidding, sort of. But, these kind of habits have to change if we want to prevent an epidemic of brain tumors or other cancers in the future. The Swedish government (can I tell you again how much I love Sweden) has recommended that no new homes or schools be constructed near energy plants and has proposed that efforts be made to lower EMF levels in all homes, schools and workplaces. Adam used to walk up to the new Clarke County High School every morning, until one day last week he took his EMF meter with him. There is a mobile phone tower right next to the school, and the levels in front of the school were off the charts. That's exposure of over 100mG of EMFs all day everyday for all the children and staff of that school. Adam has changed his walking route. For the rest of you, think about all the electrical items in your house and how you may be able to change some of your habits. Please consider using your cell phone only on “speaker”. You can find modern corded phones with caller ID. Instead of leaving the WiFi on all the time, switch it off at nights. Same for the computer. And toss the microwave. Unless it's built-in like ours, in which case you just found some more storage space! Also, there are protective measures you can take if you must work in an office and use a cell phone regularly. Pong makes a case for cell phones that block radiation and make them safer to carry around with you all day. Also, Safe Space, among many other companies, makes patches that you can stick on computer screens, hard drives, printers and appliances that absorb EMFs. Finally, there are supplements you can take to help your body deal with EMF exposure. Adam takes rosemary capsules everyday. Also cilantro, dandelion and seaweeds (kelp, spirulina, and chlorella) help the body eliminate cells that have been damaged from metals, radiation and EMF exposure. If you are unable to go the full Amish and avoid EMFs completely, and you feel you might be at risk, consider adding one or two of these supplements to your diet. And do some research. Some of this information can be hard to find, but it's out there!

Holy Chemicals, Batman!

I pretty much have the same routine every morning. I believe that all of us do. We have our favorite products, and we use them religiously. We might have seen the long list of ingredients on the back of the bottle, but we never really investigate just how many different compounds are being applied to our skin, hair, teeth, and ingested in our bodies. I decided to take a minute this morning, and go through a typical morning routine using many of the products that used to be found in our home, and some which still remain. I'm sure most of you have similar products, if not the exact same ones. I decided to list all the ingredients as I went to find out how many different chemicals I'm exposed to in the first hour I'm awake. The result of my little investigation might shock you. I suggest you sit down.

Let's assume Adam cleaned the bathroom last night. Even though he rinses well, there are still residual chemicals in the bathtub that I will stand on as I shower. Scrubbing Bubbles bath cleaner contains, among other things:

disodium ethyanoldiglycinate

isobutane

butoxydiglycol

alcohol ethoxylate

sodium hydroxide

thymolphthalein

The Clorox cleaning wipes he used for the toilet contain:

Alkyl dimethyl benzyl ammonium chloride

alkyl dimethylethylbenzyl ammonium chloride

alkyl polyglucoside

propolyene glycol propyl ether

Oh, best spray the bathroom to freshen it up! Glade room freshener (we don't use it, but in case you do) contains:

isobutane

propane

sodium phosphate

sorbitan oleate

propylene glycol

stertrimonium chloride

Now to get in the bath. First to come is the Suave shampoo:

ammonium lauryl sulfate

ammonium laureth sulfate

ammonium chloride

hydroxypropyl methylcellulose

cocamide MEA

PEG-5 cocamide

citric acid

DMDM hydantoin

sodium benzoate

polyquaternium-10

kimethicone

propylene glycol

Then the conditioner:

cetyl alcohol

panthenol

cetrimonium chloride

disodium EDTA

isopropyl palmitate

methylchloroisothiazolinone

D&C Orange No. 4

FD&C Yellow No. 5

For the body and face we use Dove soap for sensitive skin:

sodium lauryl isethionate

stearic acid

sodium tallowate

sodium palmitate

lauric acid

sodium isethionate

sodium stearate

cocamidopropyl betaine

sodium cocoate

sodium palm kernelate

sodium chloride

tetrasodium EDTA

tetrasodium etidronate

maltol

titanium dioxide

Bath done! Now it's time to moisturize and deodorize. I have Dove lotion which someone gave to me, and I've listed the ingredients for Speed Stick, which we no longer have in the house:

capric stearic triglyceride

caprylic stearic triglyceride

dimethicone

glycol stearate

PEG-100 stearate

cyclopentasiloxane

C10 30 alkylauraylate crosspolymer

glyceryl stearate

cetearyl alcohol

stearamide AMP

phenoxyethanol

thiethanolamine

carbomer

methylparaben

propylparaben

aluminum zirconium tetrachlorohydrex

stearyl alcohol

cyclomethicone

C12-15 akyl benzoate

PPG-14 butyl ether

PEG-8 distearate

behenyl alcohol

For the face, Adam and I both use Neutrogena moisturizer:

octinoxate

octisalate

oxybenzone

octyldodecyl neopentanoate

glyceryl stearate

dimethicone

triethanolamine

diazolidinyl urea

ethylparaben

carbomer

I don't know about you, but I lost count before I even got in the shower. Let me do a quick tally. I may have doubled up on a couple of ingredients, but this short list totals over 100 chemicals. These 100 different chemicals have either been inhaled or have come into direct contact with my absorbant skin. All within the first hour of my day. And many of us do this every single day. I'm going to assume that each of these chemicals have been tested and proven safe to use. But has anyone ever applied all 100 of these chemicals to a lab rat, day in and day out, to see what effect it may have? Could possibly the combined introduction of over 100 chemicals to the body in only one hour on a daily basis have a detrimental effect to our health?

This brief informal illustration only touches the tip of the iceberg. We use countless household products throughout the day (hand soap, hand cream, lip balm, cosmetics, dish soap, laundry detergent and fabric softener). We are being inundated with chemical compounds all day long. They are found in our water supply and in processed foods. Even the “healthy” food choices some in dubious packaging. It's all enough to make you go mad. So maybe it's better if we just don't think about it. The problem is we have a health epidemic on our hands. Recent projections estimate that 50% of American men have or will have cancer in their lifetimes. For women, it's 33%. To put it bluntly, gentlemen, you have a 50% chance of ending up in Adam's shoes. For the wives, you have a 50% chance of ending up in mine. And if you're truly unlucky, you may both be battling cancer at the same time. Some members of the medical profession still insist that cancer is a genetic crapshoot and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. But, the magazines, newspapers, talk shows, radio programs, health books, and pretty much everyone else except for the Journal of the American Medical Association insist that there are measures we can take to reduce our cancer risk. You've all heard it, but I'll throw it out there again. Diet and vitamin supplementation are very powerful means to prevent cancer from taking over your body. Articles abound with lists of suggested foods to minimize your cancer risk. We also hear a lot about toxins and detoxing our bodies. It's not just a lot of fluff. If you can accept the theory that cancer is largely a condition brought about by the toxic overload of the liver, than preventing that toxic overload needs to be a priority. You can start by taking a long hard look at the products you are using on a daily basis. Do you really think that introducing hundreds of chemicals a day into your body is a good idea? Are there some products you can live without? Look into natural alternatives. There is so much information out there, and I'm only just starting to scrape the surface. Already we have tossed the Aveeno baby bath and replaced it with Dr. Bronner's natural soap. I've been using the Dr. Bronner's on my face and body as well, and I am moisturizing with coconut oil. And I'm experimenting with making our own dish soap (the first time was a success), dishwasher detergent, laundry detergent and all-purpose cleaner. It's actually a lot of fun, but I'm also relieved that Adam no longer has to pollute his body with so many chemicals. The endless juicing, food preparing, vitamins and coffee enemas are a lot of work, and are only necessary because we need to get all this stuff out of our bodies before it's too late. I would love to see more people become alert to the chemicals they are introducing into their bodies, and more importantly into our children. We also have an Autistic Spectrum Disorder epidemic in this country, and don't for a second think that the two epidemics aren't related. Our husbands and us women are getting sicker, and our children will be too busy struggling to cope with their own disabilities to care for us. It's not a coincidence that we have so many challenges in our household, and that, my friend, I will happily chalk up to genetics. But only in part. We have connected the environmental dots to explain Ali's condition, and Adam's cancer history follows an eerily similar pattern. I hope and pray that our friends and family can take what we've learned and use it to their advantage. I don't want to see anyone else out there find out the hard way that our modern lifestyles are damaging our bodies. And with all the information out there, there isn't any reason to.

A Hard Day

I woke up at 2:45am with a crippling migraine. A 10 out of 10. I staggered downstairs to take two Imitrex tablets, grab an ice pack and my trusty swim cap. It looks funny, but I'm telling you the swim cap helps so much. Back into bed, and a quick prayer for relief or death, whichever God feels is most appropriate. The alarm goes off at 6:00am, which is when I would normally do my coffee “detox” and have a shower, but not today. I reset it for 6:30am. When I get up the second time, I feel much better, but I'm really groggy and drugged up from the meds. The morning goes by in a hazy blur. Muesli for Ali and Finlay, hot porridge for Calum and Adam. Count out vitamins, make sure kids get cod liver oil, and chew their Spry gum after they eat. We don't have time for toothbrushing. The kids need to get dressed and ready to go because today is Monday. They are going to Holly Beth's for the day, so I need to get out their clothes, dress Finlay and help Ali with his socks, remind Calum 17 times to get dressed, pack food, nappies, wipes, water, change of clothes and more food for the day. We have a pile of clean clothes on the floor blocking the stairs courtesy of my mom. There's got to be a change of clothes for Finlay in there somewhere. Never mind, I'll just pack his food-covered pyjamas. Shirley calls. The boys are going to be outside all day, so dress them warmly. Well, since it's only supposed to get up to 42 today, that means snowpants and boots. Down come the boxes in the entry closet with all the winter stuff, and we start trying on snowpants, boots, hats, gloves and mittens to see what fits. Calum complains endlessly about having to wear snowpants when NOBODY in Virginia ever wears snowpants, even in the SNOW. We come to a compromise and Calum agrees to wear his rainpants with snowboots. Adam is bustling about and needs to hurry because he's going to be late for his infusion at the clinic. As always. He finally races out the door and is off to the clinic. 15 minutes later I realize with horror that I forgot to get Finlay's car seat out of the car before he left. Shit. Shit shit shit. Finlay is dressed and ready to go, watching out the window for Shirley to arrive. He can't go. He's going to go ape-poop. I realize I know quite a few people with kids, and Hey, many of them are in Berryville! I try one friend... voicemail. Another... voicemail. I end up calling 5 different moms, and none of them answer. You've got to be kidding me. I finally cry out on Facebook for help. The friend who must live the absolute farthest away from me offers to bring a seat. I can't let her do that. I can't I can't I can't. Then I look at Finlay and agree to let her drive 35 minutes to my house. To bring a carseat because my drugged up self couldn't remember. I really owe her big. 5 minutes later Shirley arrives and I tell her what happens. Shirley isn't happy. I don't blame her. Wait a minute. Where's Finlay? I see light from the bathroom peeking out from under the closed door. I open the door to find him with empty lipstick tube in hand, and lipstick clumps in his hair, on his face, and all over his snowpants. No no no no no no no. And he's pooped. First I attack his head with baby wipes, then proceed to strip off all his layers to change him. Finally, Laura my shining knight-ess arrives, she hands me the seat, I buckle Finlay into Shirley's van, I break up a fight between Calum and Ali, blow kisses to Laura, and run back inside to start on my to-do list for the day. It's a doozy. When the kids go off on a Monday, that is my day to call hospitals and doctor's offices, order vitamins online, open the week's mail, pay bills, open checks from Samaritan members, make a deposit, file papers, and shred or recycle junk mail. Today I also have a ton of Team McArthur stuff to plan, I want to write a blogpost on something but I have no idea what, I need to check and see just how little money is left in the account, make the shopping list, get to Walmart, and maybe actually put clean laundry away and make meals. Oh, and I really should shower. Screw it. I'm still so groggy I could pass out, and my headache is threatening to return, so I crawl back into bed. 30 minutes later I still can't sleep because I'm so stressed about my “to-do” list not getting done. I get up, shower, and clean the kitchen. Crap. I forgot to wash the juicer this morning, and now vegetable pulp has solidified all over the inside of it. Adam calls. He's on his way home. “Did you get much done this morning?”, he innocently asks.

I eat re-heated fried rice standing up, and make the shopping list. No easy feat when your head is clogged up with migraine residue and serious painkillers. Adam gets home, I prepare his lunch, then I'm off to Walmart. Looks like the “to-do” list is not going to happen today.

I should not be allowed to drive alone in the car. I always cry. Every time. I think about all the things I should be doing, and I'm not. I'm not homeschooling. I've vacuumed the house twice this year. Seriously. Twice. I think about what I could be doing to help Finlay with his speech. But, I'm not. I think about what I could be doing to help Ali with his speech and physical needs. But, I'm not. I think about how Calum plays Wii about 8 hours a day, and I hate it. But I can't do anything about it. And I think about Adam. The song, “If the Healing Doesn't Come” starts playing on the Christian station, and I'm a puddle. What if Adam doesn't get better? What if he isn't meant to be healed? What if my boys are supposed to grow up without a father? What if I'm meant to be a widow? Then I think about what the end will be like. I picture Adam in bed, with me spoonfeeding him applesauce, giving him spongebaths, and dispensing his painkillers to help him cope with the excruciating pain. Will that be me? Could that be me next year?

I pull into the Walmart parking lot and try to make myself look presentable. I walk in, start roaming the isles, and realize I've left the shopping list in the car. Back out, and back in again. I wander the isles in my stupor, forgetting things, and having to re-roam the isles again and again. Finally, I get out of there and go to load the groceries into the car. Except my trunk is full. I have all the Team McArthur Ebay items which need to be photographed, advertised, weighed for shipping, packed, and hopefully sold. That was part of my “to-do” list today. So the groceries get squeezed between the car seats and on the floor. Then I drive home, making a quick call to Adam to let him know I'm on my way. He asks me about his liver flush. Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. Adam is supposed to be flushing tonight. Damn it all to hell. I totally forgot. He's supposed to be fasting, and I should have bought grapefruits. He can't do it tomorrow because we are planning to go to an Election Day party, and he can't do it Wednesday or Thursday because of his infusion schedule. I start crying. And I cry all the way home.

So here I am. Grocery bags are strewn all over the kitchen floor. Because Adam is fasting tonight, I've decided that for the first time ever in the history of our marriage I will NOT be making dinner. The kids will have PBJ on tortillas tonight. I don't care what I eat. And, hey, I can skip juicing tonight! There is a silver lining!! I still need to go back out to Food Lion tonight to get grapefruit. The kids will need baths, toothbrushing, help getting dressed and probably a story before bed. Usually I would need to brew coffee, but I imagine with the flush Adam won't be doing an enema tomorrow. I'm too darn tired to even look at the “to-do” list. The laundry didn't get put away, the mail didn't get touched, papers are piled up everywhere waiting to be dealt with, and I didn't do a thing for fundraising. But, you know what? I managed to find something to blog about.  And maybe tomorrow will be a little bit better.  Probably still hard, but better.