Took the opportunity, while in Colombia for a few days, to visit the bio-energy medicine man. Actually, he’s a full-on medical doctor, and, his field has expanded to include bio-energy–how energy biologically affects us, and our health. We are, after all, more energy than not. Most of us don’t think about what we can’t see. If we look across a room to the wall on the other side, there may be nothing in between. Nothing but air, with particles, gases, and more atoms than we could count on a continent of calculators.
Most of us have experienced being in a room and seeing the sunlight shine in at the right angle exposing lots of floating particles. Intuitively we know those particles are floating when the sun is not highlighting them, but when we don’t see them, we don’t think about them. Even when we are in places of relative inactivity, there are lots of floating particles, and lots of energy.
Our bodies, even at rest, are anything but inactive. They continually create mega pathways of energy inside and out which end up affecting everything about us, including how well we function and how well we might not. Most people can’t see our auras, but there are there. So the bio-energy guy works with many non-visible aspects that affect us, including what we eat, how we think, sound vibration, and lots more. Without getting too deep, he helps his patients in ways that western medicine does not, but being a medical doctor, he does this in a complimentary and natural way.
Basically, he sees the fact that I’m feeling better as a very positive sign that my body has already begun to fight back the tumor. My throat hadn’t been sore for at least one week, and my breathing at 90% of max heart rate had become easier than a month prior. (For the last month I’ve been taking the natural supplements he had been recommending). He therefore strongly recommends that I delay radiation and chemo for a couple of weeks, maybe a month. His logic is that if I feel better during this time, it must be my body battling back. If so, there is a slight chance to avoid the harshness of rad/chemo.
There is nothing more I want to believe and I give it some serious thought. But interestingly enough, when I return to my apartment, the back of my tongue feels like its being slowly pressed with pliers. And during the next day, it starts feeling tighter. It’s like my tongue is saying “no, don’t you dare delay the rad/chemo dude.”
But there is no denying that my ability to chew and swallow has improved. So I wait until I get back to New York on Wednesday, attend a couple of meetings and notice that it doesn’t bother me to talk as it had two weeks ago, and I put a call into the radiation guy. By the time his nurse gets back to me (1/2 day later), the back of the tongue starts to bother me again. I mention delaying, and she says not a good idea, and I agree. Tomorrow’s a go for the rad simulation and Monday I start getting nuked and chemoed. The only thing I do say is that, if possible, I’d very much like to avoid the Brachytherapy down the line. Only time, and possibly my behavior, will tell.