Start Talking to Your Cells
The first catalyst for healing is the power of your words.
There was acknowledgment years and years ago that the [body] chemistry could actually be affected in a positive way by how you think.
And that's when you started to hear the phrases, ‘You can think yourself to health.’ That is because the psychologists and all those who studied the mind said, ’You know, we have found out that stress is a killer.’ And the reason it's the killer is it changes the chemistry, and the chemistry is then out of balance.
The things that you depend upon, the digestion, the reproduction, and everything else that seemed to be automatic, seem to be affected by how you think. Fear, stress, all of those things seem to age you more as well.
And they started doing studies of those occupations that were extremely stressful, and they saw that the lifespan was shorter, then they got it. The chemistry of your body doesn't simply work by itself. Oh, it will, but you can affect it.
Then the second phase that came along was when they discovered that consciousness is energy. And they started to understand in some circles that you could actually then talk to your body, talk to the chemistry as the boss of your body.
The experiments show this, and you could talk to those who have studied it, and those who are working with it, who talked about the chemistry of synapse of your brain. They can measure it, and see it with the instruments today of how you would then create peace for yourself, or coherence for yourself, and the whole body relaxes.
And the chemistry starts to change; then they realize you can live longer if you talk to your cells. It's a premise that so many don't understand. They still look down at their body and just hope it works.
“Dear healthy body of mine, glucose only for the benevolent cells.”
“I am healthy. I am strong. I am youthing.”
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I fancy myself a bit of a writer, a wordsmith. I never had the confidence I do now to write. I was always worried about my grammar and punctuation. More so, more than anything, I was worried about opening up and spilling it all out, letting the flood gates open and set for a deluge of emotions, feelings, and thoughts that would potentially leave me exposed to criticism or judgment. After diagnosis, I stopped caring. The last thing I would concern myself with was grammar. Next in line, or perhaps going hand in hand with grammar, were the thoughts of others. I was already emotionally raw on so many other levels; I might as well leave it all wide open.
Today I met with my oncologist, and, as I expected, it was decided to "keep an eye" on things. The recent MRI showed hemosiderin deposition in the brain, which isn't as bad as it sounds. These deposits transpire after bleeding has happened, which can occur after any traumatic injury to the brain. The bleeding leaves behind stains and, in time, is broken down by the body and left behind as iron deposits. This is my basic understanding. There is some question as to whether or not this could be residual neoplasm, leftover cancer cells. This raised the question in my mind as to whether or not this is why my tumor markers are rising ever so slightly. But, as stated, we're just going to keep an eye on it.
keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it. keep an eye on it.
This is when the longing to be a wordsmith falls away.
The old and young. Young and old. What a madhouse here. No ryhme or reason at the cancer clinic. I sometimes want to ask, in a clandestine whisper, 'Hey you, ya you! whatcha in for?' 'cause that's what it's like. I've never been in jail, but I can imagine what's it. I've been in a different kind of prison for four years, or has it been longer? I can't remember. That's the problem with these days that blend into months and then merge into years; they all look and feel the same. It's worse in treatment. It's always worse in treatment. Even today, a beautiful day, and I swear it was May, yet I wrote March 24 on my intake paperwork. "So, doc, ain't I done good?" I ask as he studies my file and randomly looks up at me. "I've been good, I swear! I'm free to go, right?" I want something. I am seeking something; everyone is seeking something in treatment or after treatment. Craving the words, "you're good!" Oh yes, they call us survivors, what a strange name. I'll know what this something is, what it'll be once I get my claws sunk into it. "Well, why don't we keep an eye on it."
I schedule a follow-up, bloodwork and scans for a later date. But it wasn't me. I planned them for my body to be aware of my physical being and its course one way or another. But emotionally and psychologically, cancer is no longer.
To be clear: emotionally and psychologically, cancer no longer has me.
Follow-up scheduled: COMPLY (Y/N) Y
Current objective: to be and enjoy being? COMPLY (Y/N) Y
Worrying Overridden: COMPLY (Y/N) Y
Outer Stability Seeking: COMPLY (Y/N) N
Inner Stability Seeking: COMPLY (Y/N) Y
(Physical) Cancer Status: Tracking/Monitoring
(Emotional/psychological) Cancer Status: NED (No Evidence of Disease)