To start the story at the beginning, go here
My next treatment was only three days later. It was on a Saturday so Jeremy stayed with the kids while I went to my appointment. It was pretty much the same as before. My dosage was only increased to 30 grams. I was disappointed that it wasn’t more. I wanted to get to the higher doses to really get the maximum amount of therapy possible and help my body be rid of the cancer once and for all. Dr. John had explained that I needed to slowly build up tolerance to the higher dosages to minimize the side effects. It made sense, but I was willing to tough it out to get the full effect and to get results fast.
I had the room to myself this time and spent the time reflecting on what I had been through and the tough road I still had yet to endure. But I was determined and I had a plan. Once again, after the infusion was complete, I had to sit for a few minutes while the dizziness subsided before I could drive home.
I slowly started to acclimate to my new “normal.” I would spend about an hour every 3 days making about twelve 8-ounce juices. Making meals took more time now that I made pretty much everything from scratch or I would look up vegan substitutions and vegan recipes. It wasn’t too difficult to find recipes that I could eat or to make them taste good. I have always enjoyed cooking and trying new things which made it easier. I was also blessed to have an amazing dream kitchen with all the bells and whistles that my husband had designed and built for me about a year earlier.
But eating away from home made me anxious. My whole perception of food had changed so that anything outside of the “box” of organic, vegan, and sugar-free was poison to my body. Trying to find a restaurant that catered to my new diet was a struggle. Most of them were cafes that closed after lunch and were located in Phoenix which was at least a thirty minute drive away. I eventually found a small handful of restaurants that were organic with vegan options that we would occasionally eat at while we were out or for a date, as we tried to get back into the routine of having alone time together. I also quickly realized just how much of societal interaction is associated with food. Every church and social activity includes food, none of which fit into my diet. I would have to make and bring my own food to eat at any function. And then I would sit and watch everybody else eating and enjoying their “poison.” During this time I also had to decide whether to have my kids only eat the food I made or to allow them to eat of the poison knowing that they inherited at least one of my mutated genes. My motherly heart couldn’t bear to keep them from doing what everyone else was doing without teaching them to be self-righteous. I reasoned that as long as we were strict with eating clean at home they should be okay to vary from the diet since they weren’t the ones struggling with cancer and also because they were too young to really understand why they couldn’t eat food when everyone else was. I did start to feel isolated from everyone else when I couldn’t eat what they were eating. I even began to feel a little resentful. It doesn’t really make sense logically, but I wanted to eat those foods. And although I knew it wasn’t realistic, I wanted everyone else to eat that way too. I knew it would be beneficial for them to adopt my diet, but I also knew that most people wouldn’t choose to unless they didn’t have a choice. There were just too many tasty foods to give up!
One night as I was lying awake in bed, I began thinking about the upcoming holidays. I guess it was progress that I was thinking towards the future and making plans, but I was thinking about the food. Thanksgiving and Christmas, my two favorite holidays, were only a few months away. And they are my favorite holidays not only because much of my family came into town to be together, but because of the food. Visions filled my mind of turkey, gravy, my mom’s buttery mouth-watering rolls, stuffing, candied sweet potatoes, and of course—the pies. As I thought of each dish, I made a mental list of all the ingredients that were now “no-no’s” on my new diet. And I began to cry. I don’t know if I was more upset that I wouldn’t be able to eat the food or that I wouldn’t be able to be a part of the family affair of sharing the experience of eating together. But it kind of felt like the end of the world, in a way. I guess I was grieving a lifestyle that I could no longer lead. As Jeremy realized that I was in tears, I confided to him the reason for my heartache. I’m so glad he didn’t laugh at how trivial it may have seemed in relation to the bigger picture. He sensed that this really was important to me (or maybe exacerbated by menopause hormones) and held me in his arms and wiped away my tears. He consoled me with the idea that we were capable cooks and we would be able to find replacements that would still taste fantastic. While this didn’t fully convince me that I wouldn’t feel like I was missing out, it did give me ideas on how I could still enjoy the holiday meals.
My next treatment was the ozone treatment. I thought I would be nervous, but I was actually more excited. Anything I could do to promote healing and eradicate the cancer lifted my spirits. I was in a different room this time with a similar recliner. Once again an IV was placed. But this time the tubing was connected to an empty bag and the bag was placed on the ground. I was instructed to keep squeezing a foam ball to promote blood flow into the bag—similar to when I have donated blood in the past, except this was only a 500 ml bag.
It probably only took 15-20 minutes for a sufficient amount of blood to fill the bag. Dr. John came in and turned on the ozone machine which was located on a countertop in the room and the oxygen tank that was connected to it. He attached an empty syringe to the machine and it slowly filled with the clear gas. When it was full, he took it to the bag of blood and injected the ozone into the bag and moved the bag up and down like a see-saw to mix the gas into the blood. As he did this the blood turned a brighter red. He did this several times until the bag of blood puffed up like a balloon. He then hung the bag on an IV pole to let gravity drain the blood back into my body. I looked at the tubing before the blood started flowing and there was a distinct line of demarcation between the ozone-rich blood and the untreated blood. The ozone-rich blood was bright red, like a cherry; the untreated blood was a dark red.
Dr. John explained that the ozone is O3 and therefore has an extra oxygen atom that makes the molecule unstable. It more readily releases this extra oxygen atom in the blood to hyperoxygenate the tissues. The end result is a sort of sterilization of the blood and a boost to the immune system. Ozone has been known to be toxic to bacteria, fungi, viruses, and other pathogens. In fact, it has been used for sterilization procedures. So the treated blood is, in essence, sterilized. The ozone also stimulates the immune system to produce interferon, tumor necrosis factor (something that kills tumors–I like the sound of that!), and interleukin-2. Read more from the U.S. National Library and the National Institutes of Health website here.
As the blood drained back into my body I paid close attention to my body, waiting for any new sensation or flu-like symptoms I had heard about. Nothing happened. When the bag was empty and I was disconnected, I still didn’t notice anything. On the drive home and later that night—still nothing. And into the next day—nada. I was concerned that maybe it wasn’t working or doing anything. Or maybe I just didn’t have a lot of disease to kill to cause the side effects. I don’t know why I didn’t feel anything, but it was also a relief to not have those symptoms.
To continue the story, go here.