January 27 – 2008

Questions and comments for this issue:

+ Follow on from Jean in Ireland.
+ Blueprint follow on from Gayle in Cape Town.
+ Shingles follow on from Donovan in Durban.
+ Can you treat people with active Cancer?
+ CST and people recovering from Stroke?
+ Shingles follow on from Eva in Australia.
+ Treatment for Focal Dystonia.

Hello,

Another brand spanking New Year fresh from its
wrapping is off and running.  You know in olden
days Kings were very careful about what they did
on the first 12 days of each New Year.  They
believed each day represented its equivalent month
in the year.

So if they wanted January to be peaceful they
would spend the first day of the New Year in
contemplation.  If they wanted August to be joyous
they would have a party on the eight day of the
New Year and so on.   They were careful to not
have anything happen in those first 12 days that
would affect them negatively in the coming year.

Considering it is now the 27th I suppose I am a
little late in telling you all this.  Depending on
how wild and crazy your New Years Eve celebrations
were, January may be finding you with a continually
sore head and a feeling of remorse.

I’ll type softly.

For myself, the coming year will bring the
expansion of my Open Source Cranio project.   This
is about making cranio sacral training information
available to people in developing countries
through my websites.  For me this is a no brainer
as cranio sacral therapy doesn’t require any
technology to practice. Just a pair of hands.  But
then you knew that already.

The idea is that if someone in a remote village
has internet access, which is not as unlikely as
it sounds, they can begin to learn the basics and
start practicing.

Would you like to help? Register
yourself as a mentor or contribute an article or
suggestions or perspective that you think might
help that person.  If you can’t think of anything
else just let me know you want to help.

Anyhu John, on with this, bursting at
the seams, mailbag.

***FOLLOW ON FROM JEAN MCDONALD***

Hi John,
good on you for your description of
cerebral palsy – can’t really add to that!

Thanks for the listing. The practice is general
and of course working with the children is
particularly interesting.

In the Novara Centre some multidisciplinary work
is happening and this is working well. A boy of
four at present is being cared for from an acute
episode when starting big school- my colleague is
a Kinesiology’s suggested we work together.
Progress is apparent – from a craniofacial
viewpoint second trimester showed as problematic
and the child had suffered some bullying at
playschool.

Stillpoints are amazing for this child, he becomes
so insightful of his own place in the
difficulties. He has returned to his birth and re-
entered many times over, a much calmer child!

Little Jodie (the case study I sent you a while
ago) is doing well. The treatment involves
palpating the parietals and now that she is older
some more on her cranial base which has
dysfunction with the left side.  Drawing the
sacrum to lengthen the dural tube is always
necessary and the respiratory diaphragm with a
tonic liver for the last number of months has been
less so on the last visit.

Jodie is receiving remedies for her vaccines and
at present the polio one is being addressed. She
is much more affectionate to Mum and to her little
sister and initiates hugs and kisses with both,
this is separate form the craniosacral treatments
which would frequently end with a move to Mum’s
knee.
She has overcome her great difficulty with Music
class – she tolerates it now if it is not in the
big hall and can articulate that they don’t give
her the guitar or whistle.
Best wishes,
Jean

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Jean.  From the feedback I get
from other therapists and students who subscribe
to this newsletter, getting a glimpse into someone
else’s practice is very helpful.

***BLUEPRINT FOLLOW ON FROM GAYLE IN CAPE TOWN***

Hi John

I don’t know if they were in your part of the
world, but a few years back there were these 3D
pictures around. They basically look like a whole
lot of messy dots, and then when you relax your
eyes, you suddenly see the picture.

And you can always see that picture every time you
look at it. The more of these 3D images you look
at, the better you get at seeing the image.

Ok so I know that was using an image- like
description, but it might make sense to some
people. The blueprint – to me at least- is as
solid and as apparent as the image that you would
see.

If I had to compare “seeing the blueprint” with
any other of the more common 5 senses, I would say
that it is like your sense of smell. Perhaps the
‘whispy and mist-like’ can be described as an
aroma. It is tangible, it is stronger from the
direction of the source. It has an associated
memory or emotion. It also has a “rabbit-hole”
effect. The more you try to analyse the smell, the
more you can describe the components that make up
that scent.

Hope I made some sort of sense?

Gayle (Cape Town, SA)

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Gayle.  It is always good to
get another perspective on how different people
relate to different structures.  I’m not a
‘smeller’ myself but I really like it when someone
can involve their sense of smell in their
palpation, it must add a whole other dimension.

Try as I might, I could never do those ‘magic
eye’ things.  In the end I decided that there was
no image there really and it was all an elaborate
conspiracy to make me look stupid.

What?

It might be . .

***SHINGLES FOLLOW ON FROM DONOVAN IN DURBAN VIA
HIS WIFE – HE HAS HIS HANDS FULL AT THE BARBEQUE -
GIVE HIM A BREAK***

Dear John

Thanks so much for your lovely newsletters (this
is Dee, Donovan’s wife and mother of his adored
2.5 year old daughter Naomi!!!!).

I have to confess that I read your newsletters
with great enjoyment, especially as I am handling
the advertising and promotion of cranio here in SA
and I eagerly absorb all information about the
various conditions and problems it can treat, and
as you are a guru in this therapy, I hope you
don’t mind me sneaking a peak at the info you send
to Donovan.

Yes, Donovan has treated a woman who had shingles.
She was brought to him by a student practitioner
who was feeling overwhelmed and asked for his
support.  The whole top half of her body was
covered in the sores and she also had HIV AIDS.
She believed she was cursed by the local
witchdoctor and she was going to die if the
shingles spread and joined at the midline of her
body (she was told this by an “Inyanga”/aka
Traditional Healer).

Yes, we live in a very interesting culturally
diverse country with many of our inhabitants being
governed by very strong cultural beliefs.  He has
asked me to tell you this on his behalf (he is
braaining [barbequing] our meal and his hands are
filthy) that during the 4 sessions he had with
her, he worked on boosting her immune system and
holding into, and working with these deep seated
fears.  When this began shifting, her healing
accelerated dramatically.  Unfortunately, she was
very unreliable in keeping her appointments and
only came for the 4 sessions – even though she was
being sponsored to come.

I trust that you were suitably rewarded by Santa
for being a good boy this year, and I look forward
to more of your newsletters in 2008.

Warmest regards from Sunny South Africa and
wishing you a fabulous 2008.

Dee, Donovan, Naomi, Hamish and Angus (our 2
scottish terriers)

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Dee and Donovan.  It conjured
up a very cute mental image of Donovan up to his
armpits in barbeque sauce, roaring cranio sacral
descriptions to Dee.

‘I said holding into her deep seated fears,
not folding into her cheap pleated smears.  What
does that mean anyway??’

It sounds like you helped the woman in question
a lot Donovan.  It was also another glimpse into
the different sorts of issues that practitioners
in different parts of the world are dealing with.

***QUESTION***

Hi John,

I look forward to putting my details on your site
when I finish my course and get some more
practical hours up!

I am interested in your theories on treating
cancer patients?  My Cranio teacher says it is a
contraindication if any cancer active is in the
body?

I have tried looking it up in Cranio books but
have not found any information, if you do treat
cancer patients what are you treating them for,
the cancer, the pain, the side effects?  I read
somewhere (it may even have been on your site) of
people having chemo being treated but it did not
say why or how?

Luv your work!

Karen
Australia

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Karen,
The main thing to get about contraindications
is they are for YOUR protection as much as the
patient.

The chances of you doing any harm to the
patient are slim to nonexistent.  On the other
hand, the chances of you giving yourself a major
fright and setting you palpatory skills back years
is very high.

For example, let’s say you go against your
teachers/mentors recommendation and start treating
someone who is in the middle of dealing with
cancer.
And let’s say they have a major episode the day
after you treat them and end up in hospital.

Take a minute and think about how you would
feel.  Can you imagine how difficult it would be
to stay objective about your contribution to their
being in hospital.  Can you imagine how hard it
would be to avoid putting yourself through the
wringer wondering if your intention was too heavy
or too light, how you could have missed what was
coming and so on.

I am not saying don’t treat people with cancer
or who are having chemotherapy.  I am saying that
you need to nurture and protect your growing
palpatory skill.  It is hard enough to develop
without unnecessarily putting it in the way of
potential body blows.

To answer your question, I have treated people
with most stages of cancer, benign, malignant,
aggressive, in remission and I have treated people
who are having chemotherapy and radiation
treatment too.

Here are some things to consider . .

When someone has a life threatening condition
you need to take a very long perspective on their
situation.  We need to stand back from our
conditioned response that the happy ending is
where the patient ‘beats the big C’ and lives
happily ever after.

When working with people with life threatening
illnesses, more than anything else you need
humility and respect for their process.

Bearing in mind that you don’t know what their
process is about.

I have found it helpful to adopt the
perspective that the circumstances of a patient’s
life are not random but are very significant to
them.  This includes the way they will die.  I
take it that the way they choose to die is as
significant as the way they choose to be born.

This makes it is easier for me to stand back
and not try to ‘fix’ them.

I have talked about this in other newsletters
so won’t go on about it too much now.

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/sacral-training/cancer/

Treating someone who is having chemotherapy or
radiation treatment can be very helpful for them.
I have found it is similar to treating someone who
has had a pin or plate put in their body to help
with a compound fracture.

Their body will be freaking out and trying to
dispel the foreign object.  Treatment usually
involves helping their body to integrate or make
peace with the foreign object.

With chemo or radiation treatment the person’s
body will be freaking out in a similar way because
it is in essence being poisoned or attacked.  Your
job will be to help their body deal with the shock
of attack.  To find some kind of equilibrium in
the situation.

Treating people with life threatening illness
is not for the faint hearted.  It forces you to
look at very fundamental questions about what you
are really doing.  Once you embrace the inherent
challenges it can be very rewarding.

***QUESTION***

Hi, John

Your Q&A’s thus far have tremendously contributed
to my knowledge as a cranio sacral practitioner.
It is now my turn to ask a question.

My mother is 76yrs old and has had a stroke due to
her tissue (mechanical) valve being in for too
long without replacing it. She had a clot in her
frontal area, which was dissolved with medication.
She is back to normal and does not have any after
effects. How can I help her in a cranio way?

All the best for the New Year.

Regards,
Shahnaaz
Cape Town, South Africa

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Shahnaaz,
I am glad you find my newsletters helpful.

As you know, most strokes are caused by a blood
clot forming in some part of the body and then
travelling to the brain and causing a blockage to
the blood supply and then permanent neurological
damage to the effected area.

Recovery from stroke is the transferring of
function from the damaged area to another part of
the brain.

If someone comes to me for treatment and they
are recovering from a stroke, the first thing I
would do is check if they still had a tendency for
clotting.  If I got a sense that they did, I would
withdraw gently and not continue treatment.

Not because I could cause another stroke but
because of the effect it would have on me if they
had a stroke while I was treating them or even the
day after treatment.

Also the family of the person involved may not
understand that I couldn’t have caused a stroke
and that could cause a lot of complications and
ultimately interfere with me treating the other
people I treat now and in the future.

For me it’s not worth the risk.

So if you feel that the clotting is over. .

‘How will I know?’

If you are asking this question then you
haven’t had enough experience yet and you need to
get a second opinion from a more experienced
practitioner.

Assuming you are not asking that question I
would focus on assisting the transfer of function
process that will be going on in the brain from
the area that was damaged to the new areas.

Based on what you have written it sounds like
your Mother has recovered well.   Has she asked
you to treat her?

If not, you have a very weak contract with her.
By contract I mean the framework within which you
work with a person.   It is set by what they ask
you to help them with.

So if someone asks you to help them with their
painful knee then that is the contract.

Regardless of whatever other issues you may
feel in the persons system, if these issues don’t
affect the knee problem directly then you will be
going outside the bounds of the contract if you
start trying to treat these issues.

Just because you can feel it doesn’t mean you
have been asked to ‘fix’ it.

I have found the loosest contracts are nearly
always with family members.  This happens because
of the history between you and the fact that they
knew you before you were a cranio sacral
therapist.

There is no tricky way around this. It’s not
like you can go to your Mother and ask her, ‘Would
you like me to help you recover from your stroke?’

The strongest contracts come from a request
that has originated from the person unassisted,
un-enticed.

What to do?

If your Mother hasn’t asked you to help her
then I suggest you wait until the next time she is
talking about her health.  When she states a
concern that you feel you may be able to help with
then say it.

‘What?’

“I could help with that Mum.”

Then, and this is important, keep quiet.  If
she doesn’t respond, leave it.  You don’t have a
contract.   If you respect the fact that she
hasn’t asked you it will make it easier for her to
ask when she is ready.

***SHINGLES FOLLOW ON FROM EVA IN AUSTRALIA***

Merry Christmas John!

I have two responses to your newsletter below:

I would be happy to be a mentor. I’m at Lisarow on
the Central Coast, just north of Sydney,
Australia. Contact phone no 0410234490.

I have had shingles myself, or at least that is
what it was diagnosed as when I was 25. Situated
in a particular place between two ribs on the left
side.  Had pain off and on during childhood, then
a lot of pain and much longer periods during the 4
years I worked in Nigeria, which was a very high
stress time, emotionally.

What sent it on high alert was that I got mould
allergy and sneezed a couple hundred times a day
for a few months, and that’s when it was
diagnosed. It calmed down with nose spray to stop
the sneezing, but was still very much there in the
rib cage, just not rampant. I never have had any
blisters from it, though. Since I started having
and doing CranioSacral Therapy I haven’t had any
relapses.

I have also treated someone with an acute shingles
outbreak on her arm. The lady had already been for
treatment a few times for a lot of other problems
a few months earlier. This time she came for
treatment the shingles had come out in blisters on
her arm just 2 days before the session. I treated
her as usual but also did Photonic Therapy
(acupuncture with a red light instead of needles)
on the specific points for shingles as well as
around the blisters.
2 days later when she saw the doctor the sores
were nearly gone. The doctor had never heard of
such a rapid retreat of shingles without
medication.

Best regards,

Eva Kuhl Bornefelt
Central Coast, Australia.

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Eva,
I will add you to the Mentor list.

Thank you for sharing your personal experience
of shingles.

It sounds like you did a great job with the
woman you were treating too.

***QUESTION***

Hi John, Hope all goes well in the wider world
beyond our shores. . .

A quicky that may be a useful topic for the next
newsletter. . .

I’m currently treating a fellow who has presented
with Focal Dystonia. Being a writer, and avid
keyboardist, he is experiencing a gradual increase
in tonic spasm mostly within carpal/wrist flexors.

He is a man who lives life on his own terms, his
own agenda, despite the fact he has a couple of
very young children and a loving wife.  Driven,
ambitious, capable.

Any resource/ideas/anecdotes . . . politically
incorrect focal dysplasia jokes???

PS Happy X-mas to you and yours.

Greg Robson
Brisbane.

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Greg,

I don’t make jokes about conditions.

I am far too wonderful and holy for that.

From what you have written it sounds like your
patient has focal dystonia only and not focal
dysplasia, which is more on the epilepsy side of
things.   Let me know if I got that wrong.

The thing that stands out to me about focal
dystonia is that it mainly occurs when the person
is focused on a particular task.  Classic cases
being the concert pianist or surgeon who only get
the spasms when they are about to perform or
operate.

It always feels to me like the bodily version
of stuttering.

And in terms of root cause, this is where I
would be looking.   What is going on for the
person in relation to their expression or their
work?

Are they happy/frustrated in their work?
Do they feel the work is a good vehicle of
expression for them?
Do they feel like they are bursting with
expression and their work holds them back?
Are they frustrated?

Are the spasms symmetrical? If they are
predominantly in his left hand/wrist it could be
to do with receiving.  If on the other hand . . .

‘Hang on, that’s a joke!’

No it’s not. I actually meant his other hand.
His other hand is his right hand . .

‘Oh. . . ‘

If his spasms are predominantly in his right
hand it could be to do with expression or power or
expressing his power.

The medical model for what is going on
mechanically describes the brain as being a bit
like a cartoon character that has been given too
many instructions to carry out at once.
Eventually they shake their head vigorously, with
an accompanying sound effect, which I can’t spell
and shake the confusion away.

I know you have probably looked this up Greg
but bear with me while I explain it for the other
readers who may not have.

You know the way the left side of your brain
controls the right side of your body and visa
versa.

Just nod.

Well it gets more specific.  There is a sort of
map called your somatosensory cortex that deals
with each part individually.  So each finger, for
example, has a specific region.

This is different from you tomato-sensory
cortex which is the part of your brain that helps
you find tomatoes in the dark.

‘Really?’

No, not really.  That was a joke.

‘But you said . . .’

It wasn’t about a condition.

‘Oh . . ‘

Can we get on?
If you have ever watched a musician in full
flight you will notice that their fingers move so
fast they are almost a blur.

The medical explanation for focal dystonia is
that with repeated practice of the same movements,
the brain gets confused and the regions of the
somatosensory cortex for the fingers involved get
kind of mashed up.  But unlike the cartoon
character the brain is unable to shake the
confusion away.

While it is a good explanation I don’t think it is
the full story.  To fill out the picture a little
more let me include a little quote from an
interview with John Upledger that adds another
perspective to the smearing of the somatosensory
cortex theory.

Here’s Johnny . . .

‘I just wanna share a little study that I came
across.
In February 1988, ‘Brain Mind Bulletin’
published in the abstract some work that was done
at UC San Diego. They were trying to understand
how somebody like a professional pianist or a
professional violin player could move so fast,
with the messages going up to the brain, decision
made, and back down again. So they used
electrodes, and they used an EEG.

What they found was that the electrical
impulses that control finger movement were not
going up the arm! The decisions were being made
right there in the hand! You could use electrical
measurement of neuron impulse conduction as a
reasonable indicator. So what that says is, you
have decision making ability in your hands!’

You can read the full article here

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/resources/articles/Intelligence.pdf

Now that’s jolly interesting isn’t it.

So another way of looking at it might be that
the people who don’t get focal dystonia could be
more surrendered to the intelligence of the hands
that John Upledger is talking about.  While people
who do get focal dystonia could keep engaging
their brain and so confuse it.

This would lead me to ask the questions I
always ask about anyone with any condition.

Why did they get it?  Lots of people don’t.
Why them and not someone else?
What does it mean?

While you are thinking about that here are some
of the mechanical places you can look because
regardless of the deeper issues everything prints
out mechanically.

As you know, nerve impulses are conducted by a
mixture of chemical and electrical means.  The
chemicals are conveyed in fluid and the electrical
impulses are . . . well . . energy  . . . and
guess what we work with fluids and energy!!

Alright!!

I would check the nerve supply from the brain
to the area involved, in this case his hand.  I
would also be taking a close look at the brain and
in particular the cortex around the posterior
aspect of the parietal lobes, around where they
meet the occipital lobes.

This is generally where the somatosensory
cortex is considered to be located.  I would be
checking the cerebro spinal fluid in this area and
the meninges.  The lambdoid sutures might give you
an indication for what is going on beneath.

That’s it for this issue.  I know,
hard to believe but don’t fret there will be more
next month.

Cheerio for now.

Your Mate,

John D.

March 3 – 2008

Questions and comments for this issue:

+ From Tammy in Washington.
+ From Peni in Cape Town.
+ From Nica in Berlin.
+ From Georgette in South Africa.
+ Frederic Cherri looking for Therapists to go and work in New Zealand.
+ From Barb in New Zealand
+ CST and anorexia?
+ Poem sent in by Sarah Willoghby
+ Drowning trauma and flailing arms?

Hello,

It’s a packed newsletter this month, with a
possibly life changing email in it for you.
That is if you want to go and live and work in New
Zealand.  Having been there I can tell you it is
beautiful!

If you are one of the people who have been
gently emailing me wondering when your therapist
profile is going to be up, I’m happy to tell you
that it is.  Have a look for yourself here

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/therapists/listing.html

If you can’t find yourself,
. . . meditation is often a good place to start.

Sorry, couldn’t resist.

If you can’t find yourself, on the listing, and
you have sent me your details then send me another
email gently wondering what the hell is going on.

If you would like to be added to the listing
send me an email and I will send you back the
general information I include.

For myself, I was quite the cranio social
butterfly last month.  I met up with Nica Berndt-
Caccivio when I was in Berlin. She has sent in a
letter which you can read below.

No, it doesn’t start with, ‘Dear Mr Dalton, As
a result of your behaviour I have been banned from
the bar we met in. . .’

Later in the month I met up with Orla Foley in
Dublin.

It’s very good to meet up with other therapists
and I encourage you to do it whenever possible.
Regardless of training and experience it is always
refreshing to discover how much you have in common
in your approach and that was certainly the case
with Nica and Orla.

You can see some happy snaps of both here.

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/sacral-training/social-page/

If you want to see what therapists are near
you, have a look at the ‘Find a therapist’ part of
my web sites.

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/therapists/listing.html

And finally, I’ve been blown away by the
response to the launch of my Wellness Detective
Manual Updates.

Not counting the emails I have received and the
upsurge in subscriptions to the Updates, I have
also received quite a number of comments from
people who are using the different perspectives in
their own lives.

Comments, not private emails, public comments
posted on the site.  I am so impressed that people
would take the risk of sharing this kind of
personal information with the intention that it
might be of help to others.
You can read them at the bottom of the article here.

http://www.wellness-da.com/detective/why-is-change-difficult/

Now, if you were one of the people who emailed
me wondering what to do with the ‘Wellness
Detective Updates’ email, all you have to is click
on the link in that email, to start receiving
updates.  If you have deleted that email you can
still get the updates but you will need to
subscribe on the website.

So far you will have missed out on the article,
about why we find change so difficult.   It
includes some pictures of me in Berlin too. You
can see it here. . .

http://www.wellness-da.com/detective/why-is-change-difficult/

and you can also register on that page too.

Rightio, let’s get on with this gargantuan mailbag.

***FROM TAMMY IN WASHINTON***

John;

I am a newbie to craniosacral therapy, I received
my certification one year ago from Beth “The
Goddess” Cachat. I love this work.

Thank You so much for voicing this stuff about
responsibility and really listening to our bodies
and being your OWN wellness detective. I am
creating a website and expressed some of this on
my text and my website designer cast me a glance
and said one word, “gutsy”. I put the project
aside.

There is value in being supportive and nurturing;
however, I feel that my patients are missing the
attitude somehow, they prefer to remain passive or
locked in their current pattern even though they
are coming to me saying they want change in their
bodies. I am figuring out what my part is in all
of this. It is quite a project. Thanks for your
voice, you seem to be speaking what is bubbling up
for me.

Looking forward to receiving the book to loan to
my clients!

Regards

Tammy McLendon CST, LMP
Washington.

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Tammy and thank you for your supportive
words.

Yes, the ‘Fix Me!’ mentality is deeply
ingrained.  I see it as part of our work to help
ease people, in some cases kicking and screaming,
into a more responsible perspective.  It goes with
the cutting edge territory we have chosen.

I hadn’t heard of Beth Cachat before but from
what I have since read she sounds great.  I love
that, Beth ‘The Goddess’ Cachat, thing.  I think I
should adopt it too.

Let’s see, John ‘The God’ Dalton.
No, I don’t think I could back that up.
How about, John ‘The Demigod’ Dalton.
Alliteration, curses!
John ‘The Hands’ Dalton?  The Mouth?

Oh, I can’t decide.  I know, I’ll have a
competition.  Send in your suggestions,
for me or yourself and I’ll feature them in the
next newsletter and the winner gets a free place
at my right hand.

What?

***FROM PENI IN CAPE TOWN***

Hello John
I’m truly excited about receiving my first news
letter – Thank you!
No, I don’t have any leftover headaches from any
new year’s hangovers…..becoming wise (and
boring) in my young age. However, I promised
myself to celebrate life much more this year

The idea of mentor sounds good. How exactly do I
go about registering ?

I’m still getting a feel of how the articles are
written so that when I do contribute it will be
short and to the point.

With regards cancer patients.
I’ve only seen a few and not over long periods of
time.

I would rather work with clients who are in
remission but this is not always the case.

My approach is with great respect and caution. I
always check in with the client’s ‘Inner
Physician’ to see whether it is appropriate for me
to work with the client.
Also, I ask that the area of concern to be ‘walled
off’  if necessary, while the rest of the body can
receive the benefits of CST. I trust this process
implicitely.

A friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer (now
in remission) which resulted in a mastectomy is
now busy having reconstructive surgery. She came
for CST session purely for the experience as she
now councils women with breast cancer and would
like to be able to give them as much information
re well being as possible.

I was guided by her ‘IP’ to avoid the area which
is being reconstructed which I duly did and
continued to address the rest of her body.
She felt the benefits of the session strongly.
This prompted her to invite me to speak to the
women about CST and its benefits which I’ll be
doing in a few months time.

Another client diagnosed with a cancerous brain
tumor and medical science can no longer assist
him.
He has adjusted his life accordingly and is doing
pretty well on his own. He asked me for a CST
session and only received one treatment which he
found very beneficial. As yet, he has not been
back for more.

re focal dystonia – Unable to comment as I’ve not
had anyone as yet.

re shingles – I’ve had an attack of shingles and
was lucky to detect it before it was full blown.
Immediately saw my GP (who is also a Homeopath and
practices Chinese medicine) who gave me
acupuncture directly into the ‘alarmed’ area.  I
did some self help at home by using the ‘cranio
balls’ 15mins a day and recovered within 2 days.

Treating family members: personally prefer not to
treat my own family if a serious case as I feel we
are emotionally ‘hooked in’ which can get in the
way.

Smells: This one for Gayle (i should tell her
myself)…some time ago I was picking up alot of
smells during  clients sessions -they weren’t
pleasant smells. Since I was unable to understand
what they were about, I asked a colleague of mine
who flatly said -
‘I don’t know, I can’t help you….perhaps you
should wear a nose peg’ . the mind boggles !

Since then have not had those smells but have had
a smell which triggered a past life for a client
(she smelt it as well) …..oh,could go on and on,
but won’t !

Until next time,
be well

Peni
Cape Town

MY COMMENTS:

Thank you for all that Peni. To register as a
mentor just let me know you are interested and I
will add you to the list I am putting together. It
will be going on the web site in the next couple
of months.

For myself, I have always felt cancer to be
part of the person’s body and different to a virus
or bacterial infection, which feels alien to the
person’s system.  So the idea of walling off the
cancer doesn’t really come up for me.

Physically cancer feels to me like the body
reverting back to being one cell type.  Just like
is was in the hours after conception.
Just one type of cell.

Cancer feels like the whole body trying to
become one type of cell again, what we call a
cancer cell but one type of cell none the less. It
always strikes me as symbolic of a desire for more
simplicity.

As I’ve said before in other newsletters

http://www.open-source-cranio.com/sacral-training/cancer/

what I focus on more are the reasons behind why
the persons system might be doing that.

It sounds like you are doing good work with the
people you are treating with cancer related issues
and best of luck with your talk in a few months.

***FROM NICA IN BERLIN***

dear john,

here some thoughts for -maybe-the next newsletter:

cancer:
my experience with women after a breast-cancer and
chemo-treatment is very positive. the gentle touch
and the immune system-support treatment is helping
them to release again their body, to trust their
body, to believe in their body and sometimes even
to love their body again.

so its a lot concerning the psychological support
to these women after the very aggressive  chemo-
treatments. -I am always working very slow and
very very careful. just observing how much space
the client needs. usually a lot!

parents:
there i have right now the situation that my dad
has serious problems with his heart.
he did not contact me for any help, but during our
phone calls.. i live in berlin and he in
switzerland… happens regularly a lot.
what I mean: at the phone he asks me for example
if I would have an advice for him what to do when
he is afraid to hear his heart not beating
regularly.

then I give him “small tasks” like “touching and
talking” to his heart….and: he reacted very open
and positive!
a few days later I send him a letter with the same
things again (important to open the door-but not
too wide…)and things like for example:
“if it helps you, you can draw a picture from your
heart”.
heart ,4 words:
hear
heat
art
ear
(out of hugh milne book nr.1)

he was very open and right now his heart is
supporting him again…

thats it!
sorry for my english!!!!!!!!

greetings out into the cranio world from berlin!
nica

Nica Berndt – Caccivio
Berlin

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Nica.  As I said above, it was
very nice to meet you in person when I was in
Berlin.

‘Important to open the door-but not too
wide…’  I like that, very wise.

***FROM GEORGETTE IN SOUTH AFRICA***

Hi John,

Yes I have treated a lady with breast cancer
receiving chemo and radiation as well as
homeopathic support.
Although the cranio sessions were supportive, not
trying to fix anything, she released a lot but
never had a healing crisis afterwards.
We talked a lot about a positive attitude, healthy
food, fun in live and death.
Unfortunately she passed away but I know that
Cranio helped her to leave smoothly.
As you say, she choose her departure.

Talking now about my client with shingles, he had
3 cranio sessions and in between came on the
magnetic blanket 3 times a week for 3 weeks.
The lesions have completely subsided, he doesn’t
feel any discomfort anymore.

Cheers.
Georgette

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Georgette.  It is never easy
when someone you have been treating dies.  I am
sure your treatments and your presence made the
final part of her life so much easier.

***FROM FREDERIC CHERRI IN NEW ZEALAND***

“… The Craniosacral Clinic & Institute of New
Zealand is looking for 1 or 2 experienced
practitioners to come and help us launch another
brand new clinic.

We can arrange with local immigration and for the
right applicant a working visa. Ideally we would
like for the applicant to stay and work with us
for 6 months (12 is possible). If the applicant
has or desire to acquire an assistant experience
on an existing 2-year Training Course, there is a
possibility to integrate one of our Trainings in
an assisting capacity.

We need a couple of confident and experienced
practitioners (minimum of 2 to 3 years of regular
clinical practice).  You will recognise yourself:
adaptable, ease with people of all walks of life,
skills and passion for the work !!!, travellers or
adventurers and fun lovers (NZ IS a great place to
live! ask me I have been here 15 years).

We will make it worth your while in adventure
whilst over here. If you already have a specialty
or a passion for some specific aspects of CST
(perinatal, pediatrics, immune or any other topic)
it will be even better as we are developing
clinical aspects and research in these fields.

We can help with Immigration as well as
accommodation. This clinic is also the
Headquarters for the Craniosacral Institute of New
Zealand (www.csti.co.nz) with a planned Student
clinic, and on-going supervision. We already have
2 trainings on the go.

The intention is to have a CST only clinic with 3
to 4 full time practitioners.

Please contact Frederic Cherri at any time:
Email: info@csti.co.nz
Ph: +64 9 3760 963
Mob: +64 21 640 660 …”

***FROM BARB IN NEW ZEALAND***

Hi John
Thank you for another ‘right rivetting read’.
Much to digest as usual.  I love folklore so I
also thank you for that insight into the ways of
the Kings of yore.  I consider myself to be pretty
damn special too so quickly checked my diary to
see exactly when I came ‘splat’ off my bike -
phew, the relief – the 13th!

Having not hurt myself since 1990 (pretty jammy
really) it was fascinating to experience my
assessment of the accident as it happened,
immediately post, and then during recovery. Though
craniosacral therapy works best with the attention
of another practitioner I have to say that in
emergencies your own hands are the next best ones.

I feel I did some really good work with myself.  I
covered all the basics and the bits that hurt, and
then a little thought popped into my head.

I replayed my acrobatic arc into the air,
registering that instead of traveling forward I
was suddenly traveling sideways.  I realised I was
moving so fast I was unlikey to lose much skin as
I was coming down like a ton of bricks (I really
must lose those extra kilo’s) and unlikely to
skid.  My body streched out fully (why? to spread
the impact?). I landed hard on my right side
taking the brunt of the impact on the ribs below
my armpit, my head crashed onto my arm then my
right hip touched down – hardly even a bruise
there – a lovely purple imprint of the rough seal
on my side though.

Now the little thought that popped into my head
was about my sternum – that had to be the big
bounce point.  I put my hands their even though
there was no pain.  Now here’s what I love, though
there was as yet no discomfort, the sense of
relief was huge.

I had stretched every muscle from my hips up, even
those little ones under your chin (I’m sure the
workout did that area good), had left-ear-ache for
two days and then the ribs kicked in for 10 days
or so.

My CST colleague was unfortunately away on holiday
for the first 8 days of recovery so I was my own
very best practitioner throughout.    The ribs
resolved at 2.24am with a winded sensation in the
right lung, quickly followed by a massive sense of
nausea and a sweat – all done and dusted in 15
seconds or less.

Clever old body, huh? So,  I can now get out a do
a little running as well now.  Oh, one other
thing, much and all as I wanted to get off the
road immediately to prevent the potential coup de
grace of being squished by a car, my body was
still assessing it’s function levels and would not
move as fast as I wanted.  Luckily for me, no
cars.

I look forward to your next installment.
Cheers
Barb
New Zealand.

MY COMMENTS:

Thanks for that Barb.  I think it is a great
description of what you can do if you have to.

***QUESTION***

Dear John,
I loved your article. I have
been learning and practicing cranio-sacral therapy
for the past year and have had lots of amazing
results. I didn’t know what it was but was drawn
to it and am so grateful.

I was just wanting to ask your advice about
anorexia. I am seeing a girl next week who is a
friend of the family who will be undergoing
treatment at Flinders Medical Centre here in
Adelaide Australia for her anorexic condition.

I am wondering what has been your experience with
these type of people.  I am expecting that there
will be some cranial compression. I want to
monitor her CSF rhythm. I want to balance the
cranio-sacral system and all of the cranial bones.

Have you got any interesting case histories you
could tell me about or advice to treat this
person?
Attached is my photo so you know who you are
talking to

Yours sincerely
Laney Thomas

MY COMMENTS:

Hello Laney,
I have found anorexia to be like a mixture of
drug addiction, obsessive-compulsive behaviour and
self-harm.

I approach people with anorexia in the same way
I would any person with a destructive addiction.

‘Are there constructive addictions?’

Here is my experience of the way addictions
work.  There is a pain inside that we really don’t
want to look at and the object of our addiction
helps us avoid having to look at that pain.

The most obvious example of this dynamic in
action is alcohol or drugs. Both of which give a
very pleasurable distraction from the pain.

Addictions can take many forms and we all have
addictions of one kind or another.  Whether it’s
chocolate, soap operas, sex, charity, work,
shopping, exercise, model train sets, knitting or
any of the many other things I do on Saturdays, it
is the same dynamic. A pleasant distraction from
the pain.

‘Isn’t that a rather bleak perspective?’

Yes, but it stops you from separating yourself
from people with destructive addictions, which is
an easy thing to do.

‘I don’t know what is wrong with these people?
I have no addictions’, kind of thing.

I think it is easier to access your compassion for
these people if you do a bit of looking around on
the inside and realise that the mechanics of
addiction are at work in you on a small scale.
The difference is the order of magnitude.

That way, when you look at someone with a
destructive addiction you can look at how much
damage their addiction has done in their life and
that will give you an idea of how big the pain is
they are trying to get away from.

So how does the addiction dynamic work with
anorexic people?

Well it is subtle because there is no obvious
benefit but the underlying dynamic will be the
same.

They will be using the not-eating to avoid a
bigger pain. Being open to seeing what that pain
is will help a lot.

Look at the level of disruption and pain the
anorexia is causing in this girl’s life and it
will give you an indication of how much bigger the
pain is she is distracting herself from is.

I suggest you start from a perspective of
respecting her decision to choose the lesser of
two pains, which in this case is her anorexia.

The symptoms are digestive so I would start
there.  That is where I would have me intention
though my points of contact would initially be far
from there as it has been my experience that
people with anorexia are highly sensitive around
their abdomen.

***FROM SARAH WILLOGHBY***

Below is a poem sent in by Sarah Willoghby.
Depending on how you feel about poetry you will be
either groaning and rolling your eyes or
pleasantly surprised.  I am including it because I
like the way it talks about being with someone who
is in pain.

Let me know what you think.

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon…
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

***QUESTION***

Dear John….

18 months ago a Body Stress Release therapist sent
a young boy to me, aged 6yrs.  He has recurring
‘flailing arms’ and his parents have had him
checked out by medical professionals but they
can’t find a problem.

During his first visit, a lot of persuasion was
needed to get him to lie down – he is happy but
very active – mom was good at ‘bribing’ him with a
promise to buy a treat,  which worked.
Very little was done in this session but it
certainly resulted in him being a lot calmer and
the arms no longer flailing about.

Some months later he had another flair up so once
again mom brought him to me.
This time he was happier to be on the bed and a
lot more co operative. Again, a release was felt.

Since he was undergoing BSR therapy it did not
feel right to impress upon the family to bring him
in more regularly.  The releases seemed to hold
for a long time and I then realised that when he
was under stress, the flailing arms started up.

I saw him last week, now 71/2 yrs old. Initially
he was quite wriggly, moving about a lot – again
in need of persuasion to just be still.. I was
drawn to his lungs and that is when mom told me of
a near drowning at age 2yrs.. His cranial base was
tight and painful for him. As gently as possible,
I managed to release it.

Corrections were made for flexion and right side
bend lesions to the Sphenoid.  Temporals were
cleared and that is when he went into a very deep
sleep. Actually, so did mom. She dropped her head
onto the bed and fell asleep.

During his sleep state I just sat with one hand
under his head, the other under the sacrum
monitoring his csr.

When he awoke his words were ‘WOW mom, that was a
good sleep’. I suggested another session in a
weeks time and he wanted to know how long a week
was. Her reply ‘about 7 sleeps’ His reply ‘ no,
can we make it in 5 sleeps or 3 sleeps’.  I then
said ‘you have your son back’. This was very clear
to me and to her and most of all, to him.

My feeling is that when he is stressed, be it at
school or even at home he could be recalling the
near drowning – the arms flapping to keep abreast.

John, could you or any one else comment on
flailing arms?

Thank you

Kind regards

Peni – (Cape Town)

MY COMMENTS:

It sounds to me like you are on the right track
here Peni.  When I think about trying to stay
afloat in water, I automatically feel my arms
wanting to move.

It is a great case and a great example.

I could go on all night but we are at the end
of this issue.

Cheerio for now.

Your Mate,

John D.

+Newsletter devoted to a cranio sacral therapist’s account of treating someone through terminal lung cancer. – March 06

I’m devoting this newsletter to a letter I received recently from
a cranio sacral therapist I trained some years ago.  It is her
account of treating someone through terminal lung cancer.
It’s an inspiring story, full of courage and beauty and it’s a
cracking good piece of writing too.
_________________________________________

I started treating Jack once a week at his home in February 2004.
He’d been diagnosed with aggressive and terminal lung cancer,
with secondary cancer spreading throughout his bones, particularly
his spine. The two largest tumours sat either side of his pulmonary
artery.

Jack had been having severe back pain for some months until he
was finally dragged along (by his wife) to the local doctor in January.
Before the doctor’s visit he came to a meeting at our house during
that month and he could barely sit in a chair for longer than fifteen
minutes. I was going to offer to treat him for his back pain then,
but something told me no.

Jill rang me after seeing the doctor to tell me the news. I offered
then to go and see him about treatment. I felt that I could help
him with the pain. Jill and Jack have been together for just over
20 years – second marriage for both.

Born in 1947, Jack was
estranged from his family, including five adult sons and ten
grandchildren he’d never seen, as well as his own brother and
step-sister. Jill’s adult children were close to her, but not close
to Jack. His family was Jill and his church – he’s a devout Mormon.

They were immediately referred on to specialists at Prince Charles
Hospital and, his prognosis? They recommended chemotherapy
and radiation therapy to start immediately, which may give him
an extra month or two, but he had less than a year. Jack gave
them the big finger and decided on his own way of getting better.
He took TBL-12, a foul-tasting mixture from Vanuatu made with
sea urchins, plus special vitamins; but most of all he gave it up
to his God.

Jack believed totally that God would heal him. The cancer was
a test of some kind and that there was a purpose in having this
illness. He believed that he had something to learn. He read his
Bible and the Book of Mormon – all the time.

My biggest memory of Jack is how he was always sitting when
I came to visit. Propped up in bed, with his right leg up, right
hand rubbing his constantly painful thigh, reading glasses perched
on the end of his nose and his treasured bible in his lap.
Reading, always reading.

I never took a full patient history from Jack. The first time I
treated him I remember feeling that he was an intensely private
man. Very secretive. Even though I’ve known him for about four
years I have never really looked him in the eye, so to speak,
because his physical stance was always the same. Slightly hunched
over at the shoulders and looking down at his feet. He shuffled
his feet and his eyes rarely looked up.

Even when I treated him – mostly at his ankles – as he lay on
his bed he averted my eyes. If he spoke to me (rarely at the
beginning), his eyes where closed. His system however, was a
seething mass of action compared to the surface.

From the first treatment, I felt his body accepted and used the
‘help’ with a kind of voracity I had never experienced. There was
so much to do. The cancer felt massive and almost untouchable.
It had a ‘brilliant’ quality – as if it had its own power source.

Our contract was for me to help with his pain. He had a lot.
At the start, it was in his spine and pelvis and running down his
right leg. The right pelvis was particularly bad. So, there was a
lot of releasing and easing of the pain and I spent a lot of time
settling. From the beginning, Jack had almost total relief from
pain after treatment. But only for a short time – a day at best.

After a few weeks I went twice a week to try and stretch out
the pain-free periods for him. The pain moved and changed
over the next month. It was in his upper chest and left shoulder
and still in his right thigh. Both places were agony for him.
He was always rubbing ointment into the flesh to no avail,
so much so that the Nurophen cream actually burnt the skin.
At this stage he was still not on any medication. Only the
TBL-12 and vitamins.

By April I was seeing Jack a few times a week. He said that he
would never complain again if only the pain in his right thigh
would go away. There were big releases during treatment, but
the pain would only let up for a few hours. During this time I
never felt that I my intention was in the right place. The
restrictions were releasing, but within a couple of days they
were back again, perhaps even stronger. The cancer felt bigger
and more powerful, but at the same time, it still felt like just
another part of his body. The ‘shining star’ quality was still
there but it yelled ‘untouchable’. It had its own impenetrable
boundaries, but while it ‘looked’ alien, it didn’t feel alien.

Jack had been to the hospital a couple of times for further
check-ups. This was only for Jill’s benefit. He hated the
notion of hospital, the control of doctors and being around
sick people. Giving up control of his world was anathema to
him. Every time he went to the hospital under duress, his
system would take a couple of treatments just to get over
the trip. This agitation in his body caused more pain as well.
It was a very ‘buzzy’ feeling and it made the gap between his
‘inner’ and ‘outer’ further apart. It was harder to bring the
two together and very hard to settle.

From the first time I put my hands on Jack, his body felt
harmonious. Even with all the ‘action’ and releasing, there was
no sense ever of disharmony. His body was doing exactly what
it wanted to be doing. Cancer included.

Knowing the situation between Jack and Jill was very tricky, to
say the least. Spending so much time with people means that
they can’t put on an act for your benefit. From my perspective
their relationship was so toxic that I almost felt physically sick
at times. If she came into the room during treatment his system
would go awol. They were verbally abusive to each other and
their whole way of communication was like an aggressive power
play. However, both seemed genuinely contrite after the nastiness.
He spoke well of her, described her as his soul mate; and she
was remorseful after swearing at him in a way that would curl
even my ears.

During treatment Jack sometimes talked about himself. I felt that
he never really had that opportunity with anyone else. He told
me that he knew something was wrong with him 12 years ago.

‘How?’
‘I had a pain in my chest… right where the main tumour is now.’
‘Did you go to the doctor back then?’
‘No, hate doctors…’

These conversations were always very quiet. Hushed tones. If Jill
was at home, he spoke almost in a whisper.

Jill was almost always watching TV while I treated Jack. Sitting
only a few metres away in the lounge, but the TV was loud and
she was often smoking. The smoke drifted past us and out the
bedroom window. Something that always irritated Jack and I felt
was such a lack of respect. To have smoke drifting past a man
with lung cancer.

‘Is there anything you need?’ I often asked him if there was
anything specific about his pain or treatment in general. It was
May and I was going away for a five days.

There was a long silence then, ‘Sometimes, all I want is a hug.’

I felt a huge rush of emotion. My eyes were closed and I was
sitting as usual at his ankles. My drill was to go to the lounge
and get the grey poof, then into his bedroom where I sat on the
grey poof while I treated him from his ankles. I supported my
weight on my knees and my legs splayed out beside me.
Performing this very ‘grasshopper-like’ exercise almost daily
allowed me to find my own centre of gravity and get past my
own pain and discomfort very quickly.

I really didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t just stop the treatment
and rush to give him a hug, even though that was my first reaction.
And I thought that he’d be getting hugs from Jill – surely?  So I sat.
A good moment to stay in ‘armchair’. I felt so much pain. His and mine.

But I didn’t know if that was just because of what he’d said. It’s a
fairly gut-wrenching thing to hear from a man in his condition.
I opened my eyes. There must have been a questioning look
on my face. His eyes were very blurry, but he wasn’t actually crying.

‘Jill and I haven’t had sex for 12 years. We haven’t been close
for that long.’
‘Oh… ‘
‘That’s another reason I knew something was wrong…. besides
the pain in my chest.’
I just nodded.
‘All that just stopped working.’
He was pointing to the ‘Y’ in his Y-fronts.
(Enough information, I thought, I’ve got the picture)

At the end of May I asked Jack to come to Resource Day so John
could check him out. I had no idea if what I was doing was in the
right direction, and I still had no idea about the controlling restriction.

By then movement was extremely difficult for him and he had
relented slightly about any form of pain relief. That trip, although
painful, was very helpful for me. The information that John provided
about Jack’s system and his secret life gave me the ability to go to
a new level with the treatments.

Mind games – mine.
There’s such a dichotomy in treating people who are deteriorating
so rapidly. Maintaining respect for the process whilst having the
human wish for ‘life’ in the back of your mind. I was often in two
minds with Jack. He’s dying, oh my goodness I think he’s going to
live. The ‘armchair technique’ is the only way to get through this.

Especially when Jack’s whole conversation is that he’s getting better
and that he’s going to beat this cancer and live.
‘I’m getting better?’
He asked me after every treatment, ‘How am I?’, ‘When am I going
to start getting better?’, ‘Soon?’, ‘Have the tumours stopped growing?’,
‘How long do you think it’s going to take to turn this around… six months?’,
‘How is it?’, ‘What’s happening?’……….

My answer was mostly the same, along the lines of – I don’t know,
but your body’s feeling very harmonious, it’s doing exactly what
it needs to do. Jack really got the ‘harmonious’ thing. That’s exactly
how he felt at the end of treatment. He felt the harmony and he
loved the feeling very much. That’s one thing I could really help
with after taking Jack to see John.  Getting the ‘outer’ to get closer
to the ‘inner’. Bringing the Jack who’s saying ‘I’m getting better’,
towards the inner Jack that’s saying ‘I’m doing exactly what I
want to be doing (cancer included)’. The gap between the two
was like an electrical force field. When that gap was wide, he
had more pain and agitation. During treatment, the gap would
lessen and the inner harmony melded with his ‘I’m getting better’
conversation.

When the two ‘worlds’ dissolved together it was a beautiful thing.
Awesome. I often had tears running down my cheeks from this
feeling. It was a blissful state, a perfect place. If he was awake,
Jack knew the exact moment of this happening. He’d say ‘That’s it’
or a small groan would acknowledge relief from the pain.

Sundays often brought a Mormon blessing. It was Jack’s favourite
time and the actual blessing made him so emotional from the
beauty of the words and the feelings evoked. He was always
very weepy and happy after that. There was a niggling feeling
in me though – not about the blessing, but the content.

Jack was being given blessings that were always along the lines of….
‘You’ll get better. In about a year you’ll be totally well. The cancer
has stopped growing. It’s not getting any bigger. You aren’t getting
any worse. You’ve turned a corner, and from now on you are just
getting well.’

Now I’m all FOR being positive. But it just didn’t ring true. And in
his system it created a new problem. It went against everything
his body was actually doing. So his questioning at the end of
treatment took on a new urgency. ‘How much longer is this
going to take – I’m supposed to be getting better. Six months?
Do you think it will take that long?’

(Not from where I was sitting)

I had my own problem with this too. If I thought that he was getting
worse, would he? I didn’t want to be pointing the bone at him.
He’s dying and that’s that – I didn’t want to have that in my mind
either. It’s hard to put all that stuff aside at times and just do
what you’re there to do.

In June, Jack had some people come for him to teach them about
his pet subjects. The financial world and being a sovereign person.
They were young and vibrant and into health in a big way. They got
him out of the ‘not being able to eat’ rut that he was in, and by the
time they left after a week, he was eating better than he had for months.

He looked better and had more energy – it was a real revival.
His system felt different. For a few weeks I wondered if he could
really be turning this around. The harmony was still there, but
there was something else that I couldn’t grasp. It was like I was
putting my hands on a totally different person.

After that I got the flu and didn’t go to treat him for about a week.
When I went back, he was on oxygen. Jill had taken him for a
check-up at the hospital and his lung capacity was tested. I had
been working on that for a long time during treatment. It felt to
me that he had less than half his normal lung capacity. At least
having oxygen at home gave him more relief from the chest pain
and slightly more energy.

Jack’s painful right thigh finally had a gigantic release. It took
me by such surprise that I nearly fell off the poof. It was so BIG
and ‘mechanical’ and violent and visual, I thought I must be
making it up. Like something out of an Alien movie. He slept
through the whole thing. I integrated and settled the area for
a long time, not just for Jack, but for my benefit too.

After he finally woke I asked him how his thigh felt. ‘Just the same.’
I couldn’t believe it. The next morning when I arrived Jill was very
excited. ‘Jack’s leg’s all better!!!!’
‘Great!’
‘He used this new cream I found and after he rubbed it in the
pain totally went!’
‘Oh… good, that’s great….’

That pain never came back. But there were new ones. Chest and
shoulders. Agony for Jack. Mostly I was settling this pain. I admit
I sometimes had the doctors’ voices in the back of my mind.
‘The two tumours are growing together and one day without
warning they will just rupture the pulmonary artery and he will
bleed to death in minutes – there’s nothing you can do’.
I imagined I could feel this death-grip already. The thought
of encouraging big releases around that area was a little scary.

I’d already made a pact with his body for him not to die while I
was treating him. John suggested this and I set that agreement
up almost at the beginning. There had been one release in
particular that gave me a hell of a fright. I could taste blood in
my mouth and my hands felt that they were completely awash
in blood – that viscous, dark fluid up to my elbows. Shit, it’s
happened! I opened my eyes expecting blood to be pouring out
of this nose and mouth. Nothing – he slept like a baby.

Another discussion at the next Resource Day helped me through
this. Re affirm your agreement – do not die while I’m treating you.
Don’t be afraid of encouraging releases. Don’t just ‘settle’.
Treat what you find.
Okay.

His heart is what I found next. It felt like it was breaking – and I told him so.
‘How’s it going… what can you feel?’
‘Well, there’s something that I can feel – I don’t understand what
it means, but you might.’
‘What?’
‘This might sound strange, but it feels as though your heart is breaking.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s the only way I can explain it… breaking, incredible sadness.’
‘Oh……. that’s funny…..’

Normally I would never say such a thing – but I had to. It was
so strong. It felt like ‘breaking’ in the sense of both physically,
and in the old black and white movie scenario.
Emotionally.

It was so overwhelming I cried all the way home. Even
remembering it makes me teary now. Such sadness.

It made total sense – he had a whole family estranged from him.
He had a loveless life. Personal tragedy under all that biblical
optimism.

In July Jack was declining. He was still attempting the food thing
to keep up his strength for when he got well, but he was not
moving around the house any more. The long oxygen tube was
like his umbilical cord. It was long enough to go to the lounge
and the bathroom. He hadn’t gone any further for weeks and
he was looking more skeletal.

Jill needed to have a day off. I agreed to take the afternoon shift,
give him a treatment and stay until she returned home. There
was a great chair in the lounge. Jill had bought it especially for
Jack when he became ill. Big, comfy, laid back, foot rest. He
never used it. Refused totally to sit in it. Said it was uncomfortable.

After lunch in the lounge, I asked if he was ready for his treatment.
‘Yes, but I don’t want to walk to the bedroom.’
‘Okay, you can stay on the lounge and I can treat you there.’
‘No, I want to sit in the chair.’

The chair was great. Easy access for me – more comfortable.
Higher than his bed. I wished he’d been sitting there for months.
He lay back, feet up, and asleep in seconds.

I assumed my newly comfortable position, still on the poof, but
much easier. Hands under his freezing cold ankles. The usual
scanning, the usual ‘stilling’ thing. My hands and his body had
a great thing going. It was instant. As soon as I had my hands
in place it felt like I was almost obsolete. My hands could feel
him even before I got into the house.

As per the last few treatments I was drawn to his chest area.
His heart was in my intention. The television was on in the
background. He was missing his favourite show. Columbo -
can you believe it? Every day at 1pm after lunch. My peripheral
hearing was listening to that naive way the Columbo character
has of asking questions and I was thinking about therapeutic
enquiry. Then the crooked finger brought me back.
Over here!
(Sorry, I was listening to the TV.)
I gave up on Columbo and went deep to where I needed to be.

A monstrously big heart came out of Jack’s chest – another Alien moment.
God!
It was huge and fleshy and maroon. And it was ripping right
down the middle. Flesh tearing. I opened my eyes. Jack was
sleeping. The oxygen tube had slipped a little and was feeding
only one nostril, making a slight hissing sound. His chest was
heaving up and down with the effort of breathing. He was alive.
I glanced at the clock.
Fifteen minutes.
Eyes closed.

Holding against this heart-ripping restriction was taking all my
strength. My right hand has getting painful. It felt like it was
taking forever. Totally in two now, the heart jerked up into the
air and then fluttered back into the chest cavity like a feather.
I opened my eyes.
Jack was looking directly at me. That was a shock in itself.
‘My God, that was better than sex!’ he said as the oxygen tube
fell down around his chin.

I wanted to laugh out loud, but restrained myself to a smile.
I wondered if he remembered how sex felt after all that time
and guessed it was like riding the proverbial bike.

‘Did you feel that?’ he asked.
‘Sure did.’
‘That was incredible!’
‘Sure was.’

I had a short trip to make – another two days without seeing Jack.
When I returned he was in the Palliative Care Unit. Jill had lost it
and had him taken there for his, as well as her sake. I hated the
idea of visiting him in hospital. Hospitals make me nervous.
I talked to John – as always he said the right thing and I got
there feeling okay.

They’d put a drain in his right lung. The bag had been filled and
emptied numerous times in less than a day. A bad sign to say
the least. The fluid was very pink, indicating the cancer was
damaging blood vessels. Just not THE blood vessel. Yet. Jack
was beside himself. He wanted to get home. Now.

I could see that Jill was doing everything possible for that not to
happen. She needed him to stay there. The second night I arrived
after dinner and he was alone.
‘Is Jill here?’
‘No.’
‘Has she gone home?’
‘Don’t know, don’t care.’
‘Oh.’

He was so grumpy. A nurse came in to check what he’d eaten
and he told her to fuck off. She did.
‘Do you want a treatment?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Okay…..’

Just then Jill came in. She had that brittle, hard quality of someone
trying to be happy and light. Jack told her to get fucked which
triggered a fast and furious battle, with me sitting in the middle,
invisible. There was a lot of fucks and fuck you’s and it ended
with Jill walking out and slamming the door. It happened so
quickly there had been no time for me to excuse myself.

‘Right!’
‘Okay, so do you want me to go too?’
‘No.’

There were tears after that – his. He felt dreadful. On every level.
He kept telling me what a good woman Jill was. The usual remorse
after harsh scenes between them. He wanted a treatment and I
sat on the end of his bed with his ankles in my hands. His system
felt better than it had for ages. Cranio is full of surprises.

The promised ‘day’ in hospital turned into five. Jack was livid,
but he also looked fantastic. He was well rested and well looked
after. He was in a smoke-free, Jill-free environment. His lungs
were drained, his breathing easier. His face had plumped out a
bit from the saline drip, so he’d lost that haggard look. He’d had
his hair washed and I told him that despite the fact that he hated
hospital, he looked beautiful and more rested and ‘well’ than he
had in months. The Palliative Care Unit was actually very nice.
It was peaceful too, unlike his bedroom which fronted a main road.
Noisy as hell.

I’d suggested months ago to Jill that she might like to get in touch
with Jack’s sons seeing as he didn’t have it in him to make the first
contact. I gathered from talking to him about it, that his pride was
the main thing keeping them apart now.

The only son living in Australia wanted to come and see him and
that visit also happened while he was in hospital. It was wonderful
for Jack. He glowed after that. Jill was back in the good books.
His son stayed until Jack was back home and promised to come
and see him again soon. By the time me was released from hospital,
Jack had the drain in his right lung and a catheter to drain urine.
Two tubes and bags that had to stay with him. His bladder hadn’t
been working properly for weeks. It also meant nurses visiting
every day.

So, seeing him at home now had the ‘feel’ of hospital. His room
had been transformed. The hospital had organised all the
equipment. A proper hospital bed that made daily nursing
easier and all the other stuff that makes life better when you
can’t get out of bed. The air bed mattress was freaky for me.
The air moves all over constantly, giving a massage-like feel.
It took a few days for me to adjust to the movement – is that
me, Jack or the airbed?

The day care nurses arrived around 10am each day to attend
to the drain and catheter and washing etc etc… There was one
main thing left that needed attention. The Mormon blessing.
I felt that the blessings lately had been adding to Jack’s grief,
not giving him the relief and peace of mind that they used to.
I spoke to Jill about this. She had been having the same thought
for a while. As a non-practising Mormon she understood what
he needed next. A blessing with an ‘out’ clause.

For a while, some weeks, there had been a change in my overall
treatments. When I treat people, I kind of ‘see’ them, next to me.
Their whole body is quite close to mine but my hands seem to
go right under them the whole length. Hard to explain this picture,
anyway, lately Jack hadn’t been so close to me. He was getting
further away. So, when I treated him, he was harder to reach.
During treatment he would get a little closer, but the next time
he was even further away. Little by little he seemed to be leaving.

There was also the angel’s wing. As Jack moved further away,
he seemed to be enveloped in something. Light, gossamer,
feathery. It was an incredibly beautiful scenario, and even
though it disturbed me at some level, it was so esoteric and
real that I could not question it or even discuss it. He left this
gossamer-like bed to allow me to treat him, and then he
moved back as I was settling his system.

Jill spoke to the bishop. Finally, his blessing was one along
the lines of ‘thy will be done’. That whatever happens is God’s
will, which is good. What a relief.

Mid-August brought more changes along with the angel’s wing.
Jack’s body felt wet and it was always curling inwards during
treatment. It was another out-of-the-blue change. My treatments
were mostly after dinner now. Jack liked to have a treatment
and then go to sleep for the night. One night as I was driving
home it hit me – embryonic. That’s what it was. It felt like his
body was an embryo.

That ‘distance’ and ‘embryonic curling’ continued. The new
blessing gave Jack’s system more harmony. He had been feeling
like a failure because he had been previously told that the cancer
had stopped growing and that he was getting better. Saturday
and Sunday, the 21st and 22nd of August, both those days he
was talking to me differently. His ‘I’m getting better’ conversation
was over.

He told me that he could not fight any more. He was spent.
We spoke for a very long time each day about his wishes.
His thanks. His love. Promises. All the time, his system still
felt the same as it always had. Harmonious. I had been giving
him a foot massage every now and then. After his ‘all I want is
a hug’ statement, I realised that I could do more than just cranio.
He loved the foot massages. His feet were like ice from having
such poor circulation. Never enough oxygen. After a foot
massage he used to say how spoilt he felt. Ialways hugged
him too when I was arriving and leaving. I know how much
that simple act of physical touch meant to him as well as the
benefit of having treatments.

A thousand distractions had come between me and ‘treating Jack’
since February. The biggest one that I was finding hard to ignore
was a trip that would take me away for 8 to 10 weeks. Both Jack
and Jill told me it was okay, that I should go. At one point I wanted
to go, just bolt. I didn’t want to go through this. The hassle, the
drive to their house, their dark and dingy home, his Y- fronts,
the revolting bedroom wallpaper, their relationship, her cigarette
smoke, his spit bucket.

I wanted to run. But at the same time, there had been something
built in his mind. And her mind. I had been welcomed into their
lives and into their home, no matter how humble. They both
depended on me for very different reasons. She needed me to
visit and talk. He needed me to treat him and talk.

He was there when I woke up in the morning. My hands could
feel him even when I wasn’t there. When Jack had been in the
Palliative Care Unit it had happened. Just a moment between us.
I opened my eyes at the end of treating him. He was just looking
at me. No words. I knew then that I would stay for however long
it took. I told him that I wasn’t going away. He smiled and just
nodded.

When I left Jill on the Sunday night (the 22nd of August), I
told her to call me anytime. Day or night. Not to hesitate.
Next morning the phone rang. Early, still dark. I couldn’t
understand a word she was saying, she was sobbing
uncontrollably. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

I thought he had died from the sound she was making, but
when I arrived he was sitting up and breathing. But things
were different. There was almost complete silence. There was
no oxygen tube and no sound of the oxygen machine humming
and thumping every two seconds. The vibrating noise of the
airbed machine was gone – it was turned off. The silence was
eerie. He was reading his bible. She was in the kitchen on the
telephone to the hospital.

‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m dying… I can’t do this any more. I just want to die. I told
you that yesterday. I want to go now.’
‘Okay…. what can I do? Is there anything you need?’
‘No, just let me go.’
‘I’m here for you. If that’s what you want, that’s okay.’
‘I want to stay here.’
‘I know … I’ll make sure that you stay here. I know you don’t
want to go to the hospital.’
‘Good … don’t let her send me there.’
‘Do you want me to massage your feet?’
He shook his head, no. Already, his toenails were blue and
his ankles ballooned with fluid.

They had obviously had a big night. Harrowing for her, resolution
and more peace for him. But there was a genuine affection
between them. They’d been through the photo albums and said
all they needed to say to each other. He’d refused all pain
medication for the last 2 days and now he couldn’t keep any
pills down. I made some phone calls to the hospital for Jill.
She couldn’t speak coherently anymore without sobbing.
They needed to organise intravenous injections for Jack as
the pain was too hard for him to bear. That took hours.

During that time I parked myself out of the way between his
bed and the window. Sitting on a chair monitoring and treating
him with my hand on his arm. Every now and then he’d doze
and I supported his head with my other hand. His system felt
faint. But very peaceful. The pain ran through his body like an
electrical current. It went in waves, spasms. Like birth, I thought.
Yes, it felt just like birth. Every now and then he’d wake.
‘Shit, I’m still here…. I just want to go.
Where are those bloody nurses. I need that injection.’

He was adamant about getting that pain-killing injection.
He needed it badly. Sometimes, as we sat there, with Jill coming
and going and the rest of the buzz in the house (Jill’s daughter
had arrived to help her call funeralhomes etc etc), it felt like he
and I were in a vacuum. Protected from the roar of the traffic
outside, the wailing of Jill as she’d come and give him a hug,
making him squirm and get momentarily agitated, the constant
ringing of the telephone….
I kissed his forehead as he dozed. Re-negotiated one promise
I’d made the previous night…
‘I have to take back one promise.’
‘What?’
‘I can’t promise to read the Book of Mormon that you gave me.’
Silence
‘I’ll have a look at it, but I can’t promise to read the whole thing.’
‘Okay…’

‘I love you…’
‘I love you too…’

There was a moment too, when I re-negotiated our deal
- or thought I did. The one about not dying while I was treating
him. At that point, I was prepared to do whatever it took to
make his transition easier. To help his dying in any way.
If that meant staying with him all the way, I would.

Every now and then he would stop breathing. His breathing was
shallow and laboured without the oxygen anyway, but when it
stopped it was a hell
of a shock. I would just open my eyes and look at him. Then he
would breathe again. Back to our pattern. Getting through the
birthing pains.

The nurses arrived in a flurry. Invading the quiet space that we’d created.
‘We’ll just get his injection ready, can you go outside for a minute?’

I was so glad to have a loo break and stretch my limbs. They
were frozen after hours in the same place. Jill and I were sitting
at the kitchen table when the nurse came in a few minutes later.

‘You’d better come in. We’ve given him the injection, and his
breathing’s changed. There’s not long….’

We both raced in quickly. Jill went round and sat on the chair
by the bed. I stood on the other side of him. He was barely
breathing. The spasms had ceased though. He was obviously
pain free.
Finally.

Time seemed to stop between those last few breaths. When
Jack’s breathing finally didn’t start again it was surreal. He was gone.

Really gone.

And he’d kept his side of the bargain, despite my attempt at
re negotiation. After a few minutes I put my hand on his arm.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

I expected to feel his presence in the room still. But no, this was
a man in a hurry. He’d made his peace with everything that
mattered on the earth. The day before, his brother and half-sister
had visited in the morning. Years of hatred, bitterness and
silence had disappeared during that visit. Making peace also
with one of his sons had been enough.

The room filled with noise again. The traffic, the birds, the
slamming of a door, the nurses busying themselves and packing
up the hospital things. And life goes on.

Hours later, before the funeral home guys took him away,
I went in to sit with him. There was not a hint of him still in the
room, something I have felt once before when a close friend died.
Just his body. Empty. It was a good, clean, peaceful death.

What did I learn most? There are lots of things – all important.
But the thing that stands out most clearly is – stillness. It’s what
Jack demanded of me the most. It’s what I needed to find the
most of. And it’s what he wanted the most in the final hours.
It’s also what all the people I treat want, but I didn’t get that
so much before.

One thing I wasn’t prepared for was how my hands felt. They
have become separate entities, with a life of their own. My hands
still miss Jack. I do too, but they miss him more, and they remind
me of that every day. Another thing is the amount of meditation
I have to do now to keep at that ‘level’ with my other treatments.
Seeing Jack every day got me to a point where I could go deep,
quickly. Now I have to work at that again.

Also, there’s the ‘life or death switch’…..
But that’s another story.

During the week after the funeral, I was talking with Jill.
She was going on about how quickly he had died. (I didn’t
feel that it was sudden at all.) I asked her what was happening
in their lives 12 years ago. She had to think a while before she
answered.

‘Twelve years ago… hmmm… we got married. And Jack
suddenly stopped smoking. That’s about all I remember……’

+ Cranio sacral therapy and Cancer -October 05

Hi John,
I have a friend who has had a mastectomy and partial
lymphadenectomy and is currently receiving chemotherapy
for active cancer in her neck. I was thinking that some
CST would be helpful to assist her immune system (not
to mention emotional state) but am concerned whether it
would simultaneously stimulate the cancer which is
quite an aggressive type.

Let me know if you have any thoughts on the matter, I
can provide more info if you need in order to advise me

cheers Kylie

—————–
Kylie  Tobler.
B.App Sc. (Occupational Therapy), Dip. CST
Sydney.

>>>MY COMMENTS:

Your question goes right to the heart of what we do.
My answer, in typical cranio fashion, is not clear cut.

Maybe . .

Maybe her system will use your treatment to grow the
cancer more aggressively.

Maybe her system will use your treatment to get rid
of the cancer completely.

By ‘system’ I mean everything. Mind, Body, Spirit,
the lot and anything else we don’t know about.

You see, all the warm and fluffy talk about us
cranio sacral therapists not ‘doing’ anything but
simply supporting the patient’s system isn’t
hypothetical.

It’s actually true.

And if you know that and you are treating people
well, which means not imposing your idea of what needs
to happen on their systems, then you really have to
face the fact that you’re not in control of what’s
happening. .

. . or going to happen.

That concept is easy enough to accept when you are
dealing with something simple that isn’t resolving.

Everything feels ripe in the person’s system for an
old pattern of restriction to release but it just
won’t.

It makes you sort of scratch your head and think,
‘Well that’s odd.  I can’t see any reason why it’s not
releasing.’

Then you remember, ‘Ah that’s right, I’m not running
the show here.  There must be a reason that makes sense
to this persons system and it just hasn’t informed me
of it yet.’

But . .

When the person is manifesting life threatening
symptoms the stakes are much higher.  It’s very easy to
slip back into the mechanistic view of health and WANT
a particular outcome.  In this case more life for the
patient.

But wait, it gets more complicated . .

Being able to tell the difference between a patient
who is thinking of finishing their life and one who is
not, is difficult.

Often what comes out of the person’s mouth is very
different from what their system says.

In one case the person says, ‘I am going to beat
this.’  While their system says, ‘I can no longer live
with this discord in me.  I am finishing my life.’

In another case the person says, ‘I can’t bear this
pain any longer.  I just want to die.’  While their
system says, ‘I am fully engaged in my life and I want
this discord in me to come into harmony.’

Also. .

In practice I’ve seen that there’s a different
therapeutic dynamic between a patient and I, depending
on whether their situation is life threatening or not.

When a person comes to me for help and I put my
hands on them, the unspoken communication from me to
their system is always the same.

What are you trying to do?
How can I be of assistance?

(Anyone NOT asking yourself those questions, go to
the top of the class and bitch-slap the teacher.  Then
get yourself a better teacher.)

If the patient’s unspoken response is, ‘I am fully
engaged in my life and I want this discord in me to
come into harmony.’

Then . . it’s on . .

The dynamic between us is a bit like an Aikido
expert trying to rodeo ride a Tasmanian Devil.
(think Bugs Bunny)

I’m the Aikido expert.

No, not really – just for this analogy.

The restriction is protected by many defences that
come to the fore as the drive for harmony lets me in.

I do my best to stay focused in spite of the
barrage.

I funnel all the energy they project in defence,
back into their system, to assist the release.

There is a back and forth struggle as I stay with
them through the process of release and healing.

All going well there is a sense of liberation at the
end.  For both of us.

If, on the other hand, the unspoken response to my
question is, ‘I can no longer live with this discord in
me.  I am finishing my life.’ then I am dealing with a
totally different situation and the dynamic is very
different.

No back and forth, no struggle.

Why?

I’ll have to get a bit cosmic here to explain, so if
you have any deeply held religious beliefs, you should
maybe stop reading now as you might find what I’m going
to say offends you . .

Life threatening conditions are created at the core
of the person. To effectively work with them requires
deep respect for the origin of the choice.

We are multi layered, multi faceted beings.  The
part of us that makes this choice is not in our
awareness.

The choice to conclude our life is made in the same
place as the choice to begin our life.

The reasons for both choices are extremely personal
and by their nature, not in our awareness.

Put aside for a minute, any information you might
have come upon from clairvoyants and channelers etc.

Now consider these questions.

Why were you born?
Why did you choose the gender you did?
Why did you choose the family you did?
Why did you choose the country you did?
And so on . .

Don’t know?

Me neither.

If you don’t know the answer to these questions for
your own life, how are you going to know them for
someone else’s?

. . and knowing that, helps you be HUMBLE and
RESPECTFUL when working with someone dealing with these
core issues.

I can’t over emphasis this point.

Deep, for real, humility and respect are an
important key you are going to need if you really want
to be of assistance.

. . because, here’s the thing, the decision to
finish a life is NOT IRREVOCABLE.

It can change.

Cancer is very dynamic.  Once it gets going it can
grow very fast.

. . . and it can un-grow very fast too.

When you approach the person with humility, respect
and NO AGENDA, a remarkable thing happens.  You are
allowed deeper access to the core of the person.

No kidding.

Here’s why.

There’s a phenomenon in quantum physics called the
‘Copenhagen Interpretation’.  It says that the presence
of the observer influences the experiment.

But only in Copenhagen!

No, not really.

The significant aspect of this phenomenon is
presence.  Your presence makes a huge difference.
Think about it.
Your presence has been allowed into the part of the
person that is making the life/death choice.

A problem shared is a problem halved.

Just being with the person at this level is of
tremendous assistance to them.  A friendly companion on
a difficult stretch of the road makes the journey
easier.

As you walk along together, them talking, you
listening, they start to tell you about why they are
finishing their life.  As they do this, more and more
harmony comes into their system because of the effect
of your respectful presence.

Sometimes, as they tell you about why they are
finishing their life, it becomes apparent to them that
they’ve missed something, a piece of information or a
perspective they hadn’t looked at.

Suddenly they stop.

You are at a fork in the road that wasn’t there a
moment ago.  They smile at you and say, ‘I’m feeling
somewhat Tasmanian, let’s go down this way.’

and . . . it’s on.

Other times they keep on the same road and their
passage is made easier by your presence.

Life for its own sake is not necessarily GOOD.
Death in and of itself is not necessarily BAD.  The
QUALITY of both, our life and our death are what
counts.

Often the road you travel with a person dealing with
this issue has many forks and they change their mind a
lot.

The main assistance we can give is easing the
process, brokering as much harmony in their system as
possible.

Make no mistake it’s very demanding.

If you do decide to treat your friend, here are some
things to look out for from a palpatory perspective.
Bear in mind that palpation is a very personal affair
and how I pick it up may not be the way you pick it up.

What does it feel like?

In the initial, PRE pre cancerous cell stage, it
feels like an intensely bright point of light,
incandescent.

As the cancer becomes more materialised it becomes
brighter and starts to grow legs like a spider.

In time as it becomes ‘aggressive’ these legs
connect up with other points of light and the whole
thing becomes more solid.

Eventually the center of this mass of white hot
light becomes fleshy as the tumour proper forms.

If the person changes their mind about finishing
their life and the cancer starts to return to normal
tissue it will go from the white hot quality to a sort
of turgid yellow.

This eventually turns into normal tissue.

An exception to this pattern is prostate cancer,
which feels like a white cocoon being spun around the
prostate.  It is made up of threads and not spidery.

Benign tumours don’t have this intense light quality
and just sort of sit there like cellular couch
potatoes, slowly getting bigger.  If they are a
problem, it’s usually because they are pressing on
delicate surrounding structures.

Knowing what cancer feels like at its different
stages of growth and decline is very useful in being
able to pick up secondary or satellite growths.

Here’s why . .

If someone is intent on finishing their life and
they have received surgery, chemotherapy and radiation,
at the main site of the cancer, it often works.  The
tumour is removed or shrinks and any new cancerous
cells are killed too.

But if the person is intent on finishing their life,
their system will grow satellite cancer cells somewhere
else and being able to feel this is very useful.

As if all that weren’t enough . . .

Knowing what cancer ‘feels’ like can be terrible
knowledge because it puts you in the very difficult
position of choosing what to say to the person.

CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION!

As a general rule.

Keep your mouth SHUT!

. . .and wait.

Remember what I said, physically it can change very
fast.  Here today, gone tomorrow.

Literally.

The life threatening symptoms are being created by a
core part of the person.  That part uses speech and
words VERY INFREQUENTLY and then only as a last resort.

FOLLOW ITS EXAMPLE.

Obviously if you’re asked a direct question, answer
it but watch out for a tendency to answer questions
that haven’t been asked.

If you wait, the person will probably tell you what
you are feeling anyway and this is much more powerful
for them.

Chemotherapy and Radiation therapy?

These treatments are effective at killing cells,
particularly cancer cells but they are very hard on the
body.

Chemotherapy feels like a very sophisticated
cocktail of poison.  Which in a way, it is.

Radiation therapy is like a very bad case of
sunburn, repeated daily for 5 to 10 weeks.

Both generate a, ‘What the?’ reaction in the body.
You can be most helpful in negotiating with the
person’s system to not see these treatments as so much
of a threat but as an aid to recovery.  That’s if you
are getting the feeling that they want to recover.

If not, you can only do the best you can in a
difficult situation.  Try not to turn away internally
from their pain.  Try and continue to be with them on
this painful stretch of the road.  Remain respectful of
their process.

So, Kylie,
Cancer – Did I mention it was demanding?