When I started this blog, it was not my intention to cast myself as a quackbuster, but it seems to be turning out that way, which is surprising considering that I'm a complementary practitioner myself (or was, retired now). Whenever I hear about someone who has 'cured' themselves of cancer, my hackles rise. I can't be alone in this. So when I read recently about a certain Kris Carr who 'had stage IV cancer that doctors could do nothing about. She became vegan, cut out sugar and processed foods, and is now well and healthy', I just had to investigate.
It turns out that this Kris Carr is famous in America, she's been on the Oprah Winfrey show, writes books and makes films, including (ahem) 'Crazy Sexy Cancer'. I googled her to find out more, dismissing all the publicity stuff, and finally found an article in Scientific American (which I'd consider a trustworthy source). Kriss Carr, it turns out, was already a well-known photographer and actress before being diagnosed, aged 31, with a very rare cancer called epithelioid haemangioendothelioma (EHE), a vascular cancer of the lining of the blood vessels in the liver and lungs. It was incurable and inoperable. However, it's a very slow-growing cancer, 'indolent' in cancer parlance. Now, this lady had been living a very high-octane New York type life, eating fast food, not getting enough sleep, existing on caffeine and energy bars. I'm not saying that's what gave her cancer, but she was starting from a low base, so had lots of lifestyle improvements to make. She 'interviewed' a number of oncologists (ah, America! A bit different from the UK, eh?) before choosing one whose advice was to watch and wait, and in the meantime to make some dietary and lifestyle changes. This she did by becoming what she describes as a 'full time healing junkie'. Her oncologist told her that she could probably live her whole life with this cancer, but that they may have to give her drugs at some point.
So, the truth behind that statement I read is that here is someone whose cancer is slow growing or not growing at all, who is having no treatment at present but decided to clean up her act. That's fine, but I was led by the wording of the statement I read to infer that going vegan had helped her beat a stage IV cancer. It hadn't. She's undoubtedly healthier now than when she was diagnosed because she's leading a healthier life. But would she still be alive now if she hadn't cleaned up her act? Probably, but I'm glad for her that she did. It's just that you don't have to become a full-on, green smoothie-drinking vegan to beat your cancer. And if you do, it may help or it may not. I just think there is a middle way.
Oh, and here's another self-help guru I heard about - again, a loud blonde American making a ton of money. This one is called Brandon Bays. She wrote a book called 'The Journey' about healing herself of a 'basket-ball sized tumour' in only 6.5 weeks, using her body's wisdom - no drugs, no surgery, no pain? (if only!) A dear kind friend recommended this book to me. Well, well, having thanked the kind friend nicely, I thought 'this is too good to be missed', so I investigated further. Brandon Bays seems to be running something that looks a bit like a New Age cult to me, but that's for others to make up their minds about. It has obviously helped a lot of people undergoing their own spiritual journeys (and made BB very rich in the process, I have no doubt). There is more praise than criticism of The Journey on the internet. But the root question is, did BB actually have cancer at all? She never uses the word 'cancer', only 'tumour'. It could have been a uterine fibroid, which do have a habit of mysteriously disappearing, especially around the menopause. If that's what happened to Brandon Bays, then the whole Journey cult is based on a lie. Mm, not for me, though I do concede that a diagnosis of cancer does often lead us to examine our lives, take charge of our emotional and spiritual health and make lifestyle changes, and maybe books such as 'The Journey' can help people achieve this.
So, if I feel as I do about 'alternative' therapies for cancer, why do I give myself mistletoe injections twice a week? I've been thinking that I should address this question in my blog because although I don't feel uneasy about it, I feel I should explain why I do it. Mistletoe therapy for cancer was the invention of Rudolf Steiner in the 1920's, although it had been in use for centuries as a folk medicine prior to that. Steiner believed that as it was a parasitical plant that eventually killed its host, it somehow was similar to cancer, following the homeopathic principle of 'like cures like'. But I don't believe in homeopathy, so why on earth am I having mistletoe treatment? Well, for a start, it's not a homeopathic treatment - it is real mistletoe extract, not diluted until there is nothing left. I had known about it for some time before I was diagnosed, but didn't use it first time around. However, when the cancer metastasized, I felt I had nothing to lose. Mistletoe (viscum album) is used extensively in Europe, particularly in Germany, where it is approved as a palliative treatment for people like me, and in Sweden it has even been approved as a cancer treatment. I was under no illusions that it could cure my cancer, I simply saw it as a way to help alleviate the side-effects of chemotherapy. The research, I have to admit, is slightly patchy, and nearly all in German (which I can't read), but there is enough of it in English to convince me that it does no harm and may very well help. I am taking it with the full knowledge, if not actual approval, of my oncologist. His only comment was 'I hope you're not paying too much for it' (which I'm not). I am prescribed it privately by a doctor who happens to be German, and it is dispensed by a pharmacy which imports it for me from Germany. I shall never know whether it has really helped, as I have no case control, but it definitely helps psychologically. My husband and I have developed a little ritual in which we both wash our hands and then sit at the kitchen table. I break open the little glass ampoule that the stuff comes in, he draws it up into the syringe, and I plunge it into my thigh (it doesn't hurt), then dispose of the equipment in the sharps container. This ritual helps me because we're doing something for me, instead of it always being other people doing something to me, and we do it together, which is important.
It's interesting though, that when I had the good news last week that the chemo is working and my lymph nodes have shrunk, how many of my friends and family said 'oh, well that's obviously the mistletoe working'! No, it's not, it's the chemo working. But the mistletoe, I like to think, has prevented me having any sickness or nausea. It hasn't helped one jot with the tiredness or the bowel problems, but then it's not a miracle cure. I'm also eternally optimistic, and if that's down to sticking needles full of mistletoe into myself, well that's not such a bad thing.
I'm aware that Macmillan don't wish us to endorse complementary or alternative treatments, but because the oncologists at The Christie think it's OK, I hope this post will be allowed. I'd be interested to hear from anyone else here who's using mistletoe.
