The waiting game is probably one of the most difficult brain games to play. The mind chatter is incessant, and the voices have a canyonesque echo. I am not a patient person. For those that have conjured up “the patience of Job” as being a virtue I possess, I apologize for bursting your bubble. I have a high tolerance for foolishness (though my kids would probably disagree), but please don’t ask me to wait when a problem is begging for a solution.
I have studied personality types enough to know I don’t fall predominantly into any one quadrant, but I do have a majority of the ‘A’ type characteristics, and I am a “fixer”. It eats at my core to know that there are problems I can help people fix and they have no interest in resolving them. If it weren’t for my strong belief that God is sovereign I would have a bloody forehead from constantly beating it against the wall. When you want it more for someone else than they want it for themselves you can learn to let go. You have to, otherwise it will drive you crazy. That mind chatter is far more manageable.
I know it seems as if I am wandering, but bear with me as I attempt to tie it all together. Now that I am faced with my own problem, and am fully equipped with the knowledge to correct it, I am also faced with a delimma in my head. It is like beating my head against a wall on the inside!
First, I was confident I had cancer. I had an aggressive treatment plan. I was 150% committed. I was 100% sure that I would win the battle, and blaze a trail for others. I was going to show the world that cancer is juat a word, and it only has the power we give it. Even though the official reading hasn’t come back, it was pretty clear from the thermography that my breasts are clean. The inflamed place that was there several weeks before (and was growing) responded to the myriad of things I was doing, including Dr Christopher’s black ointment, by draining 2 days before the thermography. The pictures showed no inflammation, no vascularity. Wow! I didn’t expect it to work so fast that people would have doubts about whether it was cancer to begin with. Those doubts have given rise to a voice in my head. It insists I can go back to business as usual because it was never cancer in the first place. That voice has spoken through the disbelief of others that it could have come and gone so quickly. Some are convinced it was never there. The same voice haunts me when I am around food that tempts me.
But then a stronger voices steps in to remind me that they don’t know the whole story and that it might be best to stick with the plan. It jogs my memory to dig up all that has happened over the past year as deeper and deeper detoxing has peeled back layers of the onion. They haven’t been around to see the multiple nodules that have emerged and disappeared under my right arm (which is the same side where the inflammation appeared.) It reminds me of all the other weird symptoms that I have chalked up to perimenopause. It isn’t the voice of doom, but of caution.
It is more convincing that the other voice which surprises me. I am an adult version of Polyanna, always spinning the positive and annoying the pessimists in my house. My resolve strengthens. I determine to stick with my juicing-smoothie fasting. But the bantering is never-ceasing. “You don’t have cancer. You never did!” “Best stick with the program. God answered prayers but that doesn’t mean it won’t come back. Remember that there is a connection between viruses and cancer, and you still have a heavy viral load. Cheating isn’t a good idea!” Back and forth, back and forth.
I have to confess. I have lost a few skirmishes and broken my self-inflicted rules. I have eaten some cooked veggies in the past few days. We made black bean vegan brownies. I scrambled an egg on a day that the viral die off was causing a blood sugar nose dive. But, I have not quit doing the things I committed to, and it is not likely that I will even if the official scan says I am all clear. Why? Because I have learned to win the brain game and the anchors that I teach through Metmorphu help to keep me in line, even when the mind chatter is deafening. Through the noise I hear, loud and clear, “We are either feeding disease or fighting it. Nothing tastes as good as healthy feels. You are a Warrior. Be the example you want others to follow.” And the list goes on.
While waiting is stretching me to be more patient, I can’t see that it will change things, except to maybe push me to up my game even more if there was something hiding elsewhere.
We will always have mind chatter. Affirmations and scripture are my best defense. To win I am constantly renewing my mind. Remembering that as a man thinketh, so is he. So I wait, impatiently. And I cover my sins (cheating) with a healthy serving of Kombucha that serves a double punch because I add Premium (detox) Tea when I brew it. Quitting isn’t an option regardless of the results.
I will continue to challenge you. What are you going to change? Are you feeding disease or fighting it? Do you even know?
If we all understood the implications of dietary choices and lived our lives as if we had cancer, we never would. Are you willing to start living as if or at least take the first step?
Skinny Dipping 