The Following story is that of a young woman who came to me for healing having been diagnosed with cervical cancer.Marie informed me of the diagnosis and said that a friend had suggested to her the healing would be helpful for controlling her pain.

I explained to her that healing can indeed be helpful for pain control under such circumstances, and that it can also have a very positive impact on the side effects of the treatments which are usually offered for this type of illness.Marie came for healing whenever possible throughout the journey of her illness.  What she had not mentioned to me at the outset was that her cervical cancer had been assessed as being at 'stage 3.'  There are apparently 4 stages, so this was a serious problem to be dealing with.I will leave the rest of the story to Marie.

Elizabeth

It was Christmas 2004, Christmas day to be precise, and I was sitting on the doorstep looking out from the back of the house. It had snowed, and everything around me was covered in a pure white carpet. I can remember thinking how beautiful it looked, and how if I did not do something about the pain I was experiencing, I would perhaps not be around to see Christmas day 2005.

The pain had started in early 2004 as a niggling backache. At first it was not too bad, although it did tend to keep me awake at night quite a lot. I would not have described it as pain at that time, but as a niggling ache in my lower back that just would not go away.

Over the following months the pain became worse, and by August I was suffering severe pain each time I had a monthly period. After another couple of months or so, the pain was there most of the time in my back and pelvic area. This was a pain that I would not have believed could exist, it was so very severe.

I was starting to get worried by this time, but I blanked out the possibilities, and tried to convince myself that it was just a very severe period pain. However, deep down, in the recesses of my mind, it did occur to me that this pain was so bad, it might be cancer

I was bleeding between periods by now, and I would check on the internet, typing my symptoms into the search engine. Almost every result was giving the same diagnosis, (cervical cancer).

Still I would not accept this, but continued to scroll through the pages until I found a site that might suggest something else, refusing to read any of the results that suggested it might be cancer.

By November the pain had increased further and was so severe, that when I went to do my work as a domestic, cleaning other people’s homes, I would take a hot water bottle with me to try and numb it. I would wait until the owner had left and then fill the hot water bottle with boiling water, and work with it against the area of the pain.

I then reached the stage of using two hot water bottles night and day, whilst I was indoors, keeping one on my back and the other next to my pelvic area, but they did not reduce the pain.

This was a pain that would wake me in the night and reduce me to tears, and the hot water bottles were hardly affecting it at all. Still I would say to myself, that it could not be cancer, or it would hurt all the time, and it could not be cancer, or I would be bleeding.

But it did hurt all the time, and I was bleeding, so by that Christmas day in 2004, I realised I was going to have to do something about it soon.

I had not visited a doctor for more than ten years, but immediately after the new-year celebrations of 2005 had passed I visited my GP, and said that I was experiencing painful periods. He did not seem unduly concerned, and I felt sure that large numbers of women must have consulted him for this reason.

I then mentioned that I was bleeding between periods, but I said this in almost a whisper hoping that he would perhaps not hear me. However, he did, and when this was mentioned, he advised me that he would arrange an appointment for me to see a Gynaecologist, but it would be a few weeks before this appointment would take place.

I struggled on for the next few weeks, but by late February 2005 the pain became so severe that I passed out. My daughter Kim, who was only seventeen years of age had by this time become seriously worried, as was my partner Jack, so they telephoned for a doctor to visit the house, and stayed up with me through that night.

On the Monday morning my GP visited me at home, and by this time, I was in unbearable pain, and had lost around ten pounds in weight.

I believe she realised then that these were the symptoms of cancer, and after asking me a number of questions, she said that she would return to her surgery, and arrange an urgent appointment for me to see the Gynaecologist. On Thursday of that week the appointment arrived. It was for the following day Friday 4th March.

When I attended for that appointment I informed the Consultant as he examined me, that if he found anything wrong I did not wish to know, so he should not tell me. Nevertheless, when he had completed the examination, I still asked him if he had found anything. He looked at me and said, “You told me not to tell you”. So there was my answer.

He had taken what was necessary for a biopsy, and informed me that if the result came back indicating that it was not cancer, we would then discuss what treatment would be given.

Whilst dressing after the examination, I can recall pointing out to the nurse that the Consultant had not said it was definitely cancer, so I might be okay. She replied by saying we should just wait for the results, and they would phone me when they were received.

Looking back on that conversation, it was apparent that the problem was cancer, but I continued to convince myself that, as he had not specifically diagnosed it, then it must not be so. I did not allow myself to think for one moment that he had almost said it was cancer. I simply allowed my mind to continue thinking what I wanted to be the case.

On Wednesday 9th March 2005 I received a call from the local hospital requesting that I attend to see the Gynaecologist on the Friday.

Friday came, and I went to the hospital accompanied by Jack and Kim. On arrival my name was called and we went into what I saw as ‘the dreaded little side room’. As the nurse accompanied me through to see the doctor, she asked if I was going into the consultation alone.

Of course that should have alerted me to the fact that I was about to face bad news, but I went in unaccompanied.

As I took my seat the Consultant told me that they had found cancer cells, and I immediately asked if the nurse could fetch Jack. I can remember hardly anything that was said to me after that, as I was reeling from the shock of having heard that they had found the cancer cells, and so I took in very little from that point. The Consultant spoke about treatment and what stage my cancer had reached.

He went on to explain that they placed cancer into separate stages, i.e., 1-2 and 3-4, but that my cancer would not have reached anywhere near to the 3-4 stage. By this time, despite having just been diagnosed as suffering from cancer, my daughter Kim and I were shedding tears of relief that the Consultant did not believe it was at stage 3-4.

Again, I refused to hear what I saw as ‘the bad news’ and clung to what I saw as ‘the good news’.

As the consultation came to an end the nurse who was present offered me a booklet relating to ‘cancer support’, but I refused it saying that I did not need one, as they were for people who had cancer. On looking back I now see some of the things I said and did as foolish, but a level of my consciousness had taken control and was accepting and rejecting what it felt would protect my survival.

I was then booked in for an MRI scan. I can remember that it was on a Friday, and I had not been aware that it was a tunnel. That was something I found really scary, going into the tunnel. The process took around half an hour as the movement through the tunnel is extremely slow. I spent most of that time with my eyes tight shut as each time I opened them I could see the lights inside the tunnel close to my face and I did not like that at all.

On the following Wednesday I received a call from the hospital asking that I go immediately to see my Gynaecologist. Jack went with me, and as we sat down the Consultant informed us that they had received the results from the MRI scan, and that he was sorry to say that the cancer was in fact stage 3.

I felt a sense of panic, as he told me that surgery was not an option, and he would need to refer me to an Oncologist. The appointment with the Oncologist was arranged for the following Friday which was 15th April 2005. Each time I had seen the Gynaecologist, the support nurse had been present, and she explained to me that I was being referred on to the Oncologist to see whether or not he would be able to provide treatment for me. This really did worry me, as I was now beginning to be afraid that the Oncologist would be unable to help.

By the time I attended for the Oncology appointment I was a nervous wreck, but the Oncologist was very kind and confirmed that he would be prepared to treat me. He went on to explain that he intended I should have twenty sessions of radiotherapy From Monday to Friday for a four week period, and one chemotherapy treatment per week for four weeks.

Following this I would receive internal radiotherapy at Christie Hospital in Manchester, and this would involve me being in isolation for two days.

When I realised I was being offered treatment my subconscious mind took over once again, and I was convinced the treatment would be successful. I refused to allow myself to acknowledge the tumour inside of me at all. I did not wish to know it or know anything about it, or anything related to it. I honestly believe this frame of mind had a significant bearing on the outcome.

As I left the office of the Oncologist I said to him ‘I’m going to get better’. His reply was ‘and I’m going to help you’.

My family were seriously concerned for my welfare by now and were asking me questions about my condition and the treatment. Unfortunately as I had made a subconscious decision to block the whole scenario, and had not asked any questions of the doctors or nurses, I could not answer any the questions the members of my family were asking. I simply continued to think that if I refused to make that tumour welcome in any way whatsoever, then it would go away.

It was the week before my treatment was due to start, and I had to go to the hospital to be ‘marked up’ for the radiotherapy treatment. The nurse put up on the wall in front of me an x-ray of my pelvis, so I simply turned my head away before I was able to see it. I had made up my mind I did not want to meet this tumour.

Around this time I had been in contact with a friend who was also suffering from cancer, and she mentioned Reiki healing to me. I had never heard anything about this therapy, but I decided that I would try it out. I sat down at my computer and typed into the Google search engine the word Reiki.

The first entry I saw was for a lady in Preston whose name was Elizabeth Slingsby, and one of the therapies she offered was Reiki. This seemed perfect as she was situated only a couple of minutes’ drive from the hospital I had to attend for my treatment. I telephoned Elizabeth and she arranged my appointment times to fit in with my hospital appointments.

When I attended for my first appointment I really did not know what to expect, as I had no idea what happened with this therapy. We sat and chatted for a while and Elizabeth explained what would happen, and said that whilst she could offer Reiki, she worked mostly with what she called Natural Healing. She explained that in essence Reiki was the same kind of healing as the Natural Healing she worked with, and gave me the choice. I was happy to go with what Elizabeth felt would help, and we agreed on the Natural Healing.

After I had listened to Elizabeth’s explanations, I felt that this sounded really good, although she made it clear to me, that she felt it was unfair to suggest that this would be an instant or miraculous cure. She also pointed out that she was happy to work with whatever medical treatment I was receiving, and that as a therapist she would never advise anyone to stop any treatment or medication they were receiving.

She did however, feel that at the least, the healing would help with the pain I was suffering and with the effects of the cancer treatment I was to undergo. We agreed that the best thing to do would be to keep our minds open and accept what the healing had to offer.

I lay on the treatment bed as requested, and there was no need for me to remove any of my clothing apart from my coat and shoes. As Elizabeth began the healing I could feel a strong heat coming from her hands as she placed them above my body, especially on my back where most of my as pain was. Her hands were quite a few inches away from my body, but the heat was very strong.

When I look back and remember these sessions, I firmly believe that this helped very much in my recovery. Each time I had a healing session with Elizabeth, I felt as thought the tumour was being gently pushed out of my body.

I finally started my hospital treatment on 30th May 2005, and all seemed to be going well. I was feeling okay. Apart from the severe pain for which I was being given strong pain relief. All this treatment was carried out at the main hospital in Preston, which is about thirty minutes' drive from my home.

The first treatment was daunting as I was faced with all these large machines. However, it only took around five minutes for each session, and as I lay there I continued to think this cancer is going to be shrinking now as these beams hit it.

On Wednesday 1st June 2005 my chemotherapy treatment began. I arrived at the hospital at about 8.30 am for a radiotherapy treatment and then went directly up to the chemotherapy ward. I did not leave there that day until around 5.45 in the evening. This had been a very long day and I felt extremely tired for several days afterwards.

On the following Tuesday it was necessary for me to attend for a blood test to ensure that I was able to have the second round of chemotherapy, which was due for the next day.

I remember so clearly that Jack and I went to the hospital on the Tuesday morning and I had the blood test, then we continued on from Preston to visit Blackpool for the day. It was a beautiful spring day filled with sunshine, but I was in such pain whilst we were travelling to Blackpool that Jack became very concerned and really wanted to turn round and take me straight back home.

However, I was not prepared to surrender to this pain, and had decided quite firmly that this illness was not going to win the battle. So we went for a walk along the seafront. I have always loved the sea and it was wonderful just walking so near to it in the sunshine that day.

As we arrived home the phone was ringing, and when I answered it was the hospital to say that they had the result of my blood test that morning. They advised me that I needed to return and be admitted to the hospital straight away.

I thought to myself, what a wonderful day it had been, and that my daughter Kim was not even home from work. If I had been admitted to hospital when she did arrive home she would panic, so I asked if it would be okay for me to go into hospital next morning.

The reply was that I could not wait and that I must return that night as they believed the tumour was blocking my kidneys, and that they would be deteriorating rapidly. This meant that I would need to have immediate treatment to prevent any further deterioration.

Whilst this discussion was taking place my daughter returned from work, and when I explained to her what the hospital had said she was very upset and started crying. I hated leaving her in such a distressed state, but of course I had no option.

On arrival at the hospital I was informed that a surgeon from Manchester had been called in to carry out a procedure they described as ‘Ureteric Stent Insertion’. This procedure was done that night, and for several days afterwards I was very sick and the pain was worse.

As a result of this turn of events I was too ill to visit Elizabeth for a couple of weeks, and I really missed having those healing sessions.

As soon as I felt able to travel I resumed my healing sessions. I was still in quite severe pain, and Elizabeth used an Amethyst crystal to absorb some of this pain for me. I have no idea how this worked but it did. The pain was significantly reduced, and I never experienced that level of pain, after having the healing sessions with the crystal. I can remember feeling so grateful for this reduction in the pain.

I continued with the treatment at the hospital, but I was then informed that I would not be able to continue with the chemotherapy I had been receiving, as my kidneys could not cope with it. Instead they decided to give me one more session at a lower dosage. I continued with the radiotherapy, and each week I saw a Consultant to check how I was feeling.

On my second visit to the Consultant I informed him that I was now bleeding most of the time, and he said that when a tumour is breaking up it bleeds as it is coming away from the body. He did not actually say that my tumour was breaking up, but my subconscious survival kit came into action once again.

I came out of that consulting room smiling and feeling extremely happy, and informing all my friends and family that I had received good news. I said that the Consultant had told me my tumour had broken up and was coming away from my body. I did not think for one minute that I was not telling the truth. It is only as I look back that I realise this was not what he had said, but I had really believed this was what he was telling me.

When my treatment was ended I was admitted to Christie Hospital in Manchester for two days, where there was an eighty three years old lady and myself in isolation. This lady went down for her internal radiotherapy first, and I began to panic as I was called down for my treatment.

The surgeon said to me that he had just completed the treatment on an eighty three years old lady and that all had gone well, so there was nothing for me to worry about. However, when I awoke from the anaesthetic I was informed that the treatment had not taken place, and that a consultant would be coming to speak to me shortly.

I then became extremely anxious when I realised that this eighty three year old lady had completed her treatment without a problem, but that for some reason I had not managed to get through mine.

After a while the Consultant did arrive, and she informed me that they had been unable to complete the treatment as the tumour now had a hole in it. The Consultant said that she was very sorry but that she did not know what the outcome would be now. She told me I could go home. and once again I asked no questions as to why this was or what had gone wrong.

By this time they had apparently placed a tiny piece of metal in the tumour and said that I was to go back to Preston for several days of intensive radiotherapy, and still I did not register with me how serious this situation really was. I can recall thinking "oh good I can go home now"

On reflection I can see that it should in fact have been extremely worrying to be sent home by a major cancer treatment hospital saying that they were sorry, but they did not know what the outcome would be now. As I think of that now I feel that under normal circumstances I would have been terrified.

I continued to see Elizabeth for my healing sessions. The pain was less now and it relaxed my mind so much.

One evening shortly after I had completed the intensive radiotherapy I started to be sick. However, initially I was not over concerned. Several days later I was still vomiting and unable to keep any food down, and by this time my sister who had previously moved to Birmingham came back to Preston , and was visiting me frequently.

By now it was July 2005 and another three weeks had passed. I was still vomiting and unable to keep down any food or drink. My sister was by now helping out with meals and housework, the rest of which was being shared between my partner Jack and my daughter Kim, as I was becoming weaker each day.

When I contacted the radiotherapy department at the hospital, it was suggested that I try dry toast and peppermint, but this made no difference whatsoever, and I was unable even to keep water down.

Everyone around me was extremely worried by this time and Jack phoned my GP for advice, but my GP was not available, and so a locum came to see me. He seemed to be telling me off, trying to explain that like a car cannot run if you do not put petrol in, I could not recover if I did not eat.

Jack explained to him that it was not a matter of me not eating, rather that when I tried to eat I just threw it back up again. So he prescribed some 'sickness tablets' and went away.

By week five I was started to throw up from nothing I had no idea where this was coming from, but my daughter explained that as I had not eaten for such an extended period of time, my stomach lining was starting to break away.

I do not have a very clear memory of this period of time, except that I realise I was very ill. The irony of this situation was that it was not the cancer that was making me ill, simply that as a result of the treatment my immune system was unable to fight off an infection that I had picked up in my system.

By the 14 th August 2005 things were getting worse, so my sister Mary and my daughter Kim helped pack a bag as we planned for me to go to the hospital the following morning to ask if they could help me.

I lay on the settee that night, and Jack went upstairs to bed for the night. I awoke the next morning in hospital unable to recall how I had got there. Jack told me later that after he had gone upstairs he heard me make an odd sound, and came down to make sure I was okay. He could not wake me up and so he called for an ambulance. He was advised to place me in the recovery position and wait for assistance.

My daughter Kim says that she came downstairs to find the ambulance staff strapping me into a chair, and I was informing them that I was not going to hospital. I have no memory of this whatsoever.

Jack accompanied me to the hospital, and tells me that whilst he was sitting with me I suffered a major fit, which he found terrifying. He went on to say that when he asked the Doctor what had caused this, he was informed there was a possibility the cancer may have spread to my brain, so it was decided to carry out a brain scan. This was done and the result showed it to be clear. I still have no recollection of any of this.

I was then prescribed a week long course of antibiotics to be taken in the one night, and on the following Wednesday I was allowed to go home. On being weighed I was shocked to discover that my weight had dropped to seven stones. This meant that during the five weeks since I had contacted the infection my weight had fallen by two stones.

Following this I was contacted by a McMillan Nurse, but I was still not prepared to acknowledge that this tumour was a part of me, and so I confirmed I did not require a visit from her. I honestly felt that this was totally unnecessary, as McMillan Nurses are for people who have cancer!

  I can recall that the day or two after I returned home from that hospital stay was my lowest time of all, and the only time it ever occurred to me that I may not make it through this. I can remember thinking, "I could just close my eyes now if I want to, and not wake up again" That would have been so peaceful and easy to do, and I was by now feeling so very weak and tired. It would without doubt have been an easy way out, and I have always believed that when your time is up - it's up - no matter what.   However, I can honestly say that I now believe if you have the strength, you can fight, and continue to fight.

At the end of that period I had no physical strength whatsoever, it was all gone, but my mind clearly still had some, and I firmly believe that the healing had a great deal to do with that and with how my mind was working, in addition I wanted to continue to be there for my daughter and family, who had done so much for me.  

My brother Colin and his wife Teri visited me constantly, and my other brother phoned every day. Then there was my sister Mary and her partner Paul, and of course my dear partner Jack. Had he not come down those stairs on that awful Sunday night to check if I was okay, who knows what would have happened. They have all been so very kind to me each and every one of them.  

But then by the Saturday morning I knew that I had to make the effort to get back to good health, so when Jack awoke I informed him that I wished to go to the nearby Tesco café for my breakfast, and then on to Cleveleys. I have no idea where I thought I would find the energy to do this after I had been (and still was) so ill. Jack helped me to bathe and dress, and then I telephoned my sister and asked if she would come with us. So we set off and our first stop was at a Tesco café where we ordered a large breakfast.

I had of course not been eating for the past five weeks, so I do not know why I believed I could manage to deal with a large breakfast, but manage I did, at least I ate most of it.   We then called to pick up my sister and continued on to Cleveleys as I had requested. At this time I was in a wheelchair as I was so weak I was unable to walk. I had lost so much weight that I had hardly any clothes which would fit me, so my sister Mary and I searched for a skirt which would fit my greatly reduced size. I found a size eight, but even that was too large.  

Then I made for the ladies toilets and vomited up the large breakfast I had eaten earlier. But this did not matter to me, as I felt that the visit to the Tesco café and eating the breakfast was a turning point.  

I was still extremely weak, but from that day onward I slowly improved a little each day and soon I was able to return for my healing sessions again, and this helped to put the energy back into my body again.  

I was still so skinny that I needed help with taking a bath, and my bones were so painful that we had to place a towel in the bottom of the bath so that I was able to sit without too much discomfort. Meanwhile my sister Mary was still doing most of the housework that I was unable to do.   I was so well cared for and it was wonderful seeing much more of my brother Colin, and his wife Teri, and receiving frequent phone calls from my other brother Tez.  

I also discovered something good which came out of my illness, and that was my friendship with Katie. She is a special friend and I had known her for around six years, but we had lost touch. When I became ill we got in touch again. Katie was so kind to me and said such wonderful things to me that I felt I had no choice but to get better.   In addition to this, Katie's partner Mick and her daughter Stacey were always there for me and the most wonderful thing for me has been that Katie's son Shane and my daughter Kim are now happily engaged to be married. I could not wish for a better future husband for my daughter.  

On 2nd September 2005 I had an appointment with the Consultant to be given the result of the most recent tests, and to ascertain whether or not the tumour had shrunk. I was accompanied by my sister Mary and my partner Jack. We were to see the Oncologist Mr Hogg, but the clinic was behind schedule and we had to wait for around an hour before my appointment was dealt with.  

It was a nerve wracking time, waiting for those results, and I was glad that Jack and Mary were with me.

Chapter 6: The Outcome

Eventually Mr Hogg came into the room. I felt that he was almost smiling, and he asked me why I was so nervous. I explained that I feared that the results would not be good, even though I was feeling much better and was not bleeding any more. The best part I said was that I no longer had any pain.

He replied that he was able to tell by the information I had given him that it would be good news. Meanwhile I was still asking if anything else could be done if he felt the treatment had not worked, and saying that I did not wish to be examined and then informed that nothing further could be done. Mr Hogg replied that they would try further treatment if it was needed, but he was confident from what I had said that it would not be necessary.

He then carried out an examination and confirmed that my cervix was back to normal, and that I was now clear.

There are no words to express the relief I felt at that point, but it is perhaps enough to say that when Jack and Mary came back into the room, we were all crying with happiness. My first thought on leaving the clinic was to ring my daughter Kim, and she also was almost unable to speak through her tears of relief and happiness.

I then telephoned my friends and other members of my family with the good news

It had been confirmed at the hospital that I would still need to undergo three monthly checkups, and the first one of these was due the week before Christmas 2005.

I have to admit to my courage failing me at that point, where I felt that I could not face this appointment so close to Christmas. So I asked my sister to telephone and defer the appointment until the end of January 2006. This she did, saying that I would be away for Christmas and would be unable to attend.

Of course by the time I did attend on 25 th January 2006 , I had forgotten this, and when the nurse casually asked had I been away at the time of my earlier appointment, I blithely replied that I had not. Too late - I remember the excuse that had been given as she replied that the record showed my appointment had been altered as I was away when it was due. She simply smiled and I suspected that she probably realised what had really happened, and that I had deferred the appointment due to nervousness about attending.

I was duly examined by the Gynaecologist, and he confirmed that all was well, once again, enormous relief.

Unfortunately I have been suffering with bladder problems since the treatment, waking every couple of hours in the night needing the toilet, and being unable to stray far from a toilet when I was out. But this seems a small price to pay, and I feel I can deal with this easily after having experienced the events of the past year.

Nevertheless, I thought it as well to mention it to the Gynaecologist, and he confirmed that almost everyone who received this intensive radiotherapy treatment in the pelvic area suffers in this way, and he confirmed my thoughts on this, that it was a small price to pay.

On 7th February 2006 I had an appointment to see my GP. As I walked into her surgery, she greeted me saying that she had received excellent news about me from the hospital. Those words were music to my ears, and she went on to say that she had in fact received a letter from the Consultant at the hospital at the time I had been admitted, saying that I was not expected to live, and that my kidneys had almost failed.

She said that my recovery was a miracle, and that she felt I had done well to fight so hard to survive. I simply thought to myself that I had not fought this battle alone, my family and my friends had fought all the way with me.

I am still experiencing the difficulties with my bladder function, and there is the odd day when I do not feel too well, but I have now gained two stones in weight and I am continuing my healing sessions with Elizabeth , which are so relaxing.

When I think of what has taken place over the past year, I continue to feel that I have many people to thank for helping me recover, and I feel so happy to be here to tell my story.

I feel that if there is any way I can be of help to any other person who is fighting their battle with cancer; I would be more than happy to do so.

marie suzii@ntlworld.com

Marie Today

Note from Elizabeth :  Marie says that she has subsequently been advised there may be treatment available for her bladder problems resulting from her cancer treatment.