Today, I ran out of Gabapentin, my pain medication. Surprisingly, I have had little pain, and my urination improved drastically. Dr. Tom, one of my energy healers, said any medication forces the liver to work harder, so when I don’t take the pain medication, my liver can recover.
I told Dr. Tom I had to get to an appointment with a cranial osteopath, and he said, “Oh, I can fix your bones with virtual reality. Go onto the internet and find a picture of a perfect spine. Look at that picture and imagine that that is your spine. You will feel your muscles moving to accommodate the new image.” He gave me a quick example.
“First, turn you neck both directions. Now, imagine you are Gumby and see your neck rotating 360 degrees five times.”
After I did the visualization, my neck could rotate noticeably more.
Then I drove to Portola Valley to see Alistair Moresi, a cranial osteopath. The office was tucked into the redwoods and birds flew all around just outside the sliding glass door. Alistair, who is from Australia, had that relaxed friendliness that I have noticed in many Australians.
When I told him my diagnosis, Alistair displayed a lot of compassion. Apparently, he has another patient with metastatic peritoneal cancer. He laid me on the table and gently held, moved, and lifted different parts of my body.
While he was doing this, I felt a deep release both physically and beyond. I started reciting the first line of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic–Abwoon D’bwashmaya. Both the cranial osteopath and the Aramaic prayer were suggested to me by Dr. Cynthia Li. My breath deepened as I settled into an awake form of sleep.
When he finished, Alistair said, “I want you to feel what you are feeling right now. You drop into stillness very quickly. The stillness you feel inside is always available to you. In fact, it is the same stillness in this room, and the same stillness that is always present in nature.” Alistair pointed to the redwoods on the patio.
“Try to hold onto that stillness like a barnacle. Things will start to move in slow motion. You will still have things to get done, but you won’t be in a harried state.”
He said that there was a blockage in my liver and lymphatic system right below my rib cage. The blockage went through my diaphragm, which was interesting because my dear friend Pavi had just told me about a mother who healed her son just by helping him use his diaphragm correctly.
I also thought about the tonal healing sounds I was practicing. The liver sound is a hard “T” sound that made my diaphragm and liver jump inside my body. I feel like I am opening up these blockages from multiple angles–weening off medication, energy healing, qigong, tonal healing, and cranial osteopathy.
I don’t know what the results of releasing these blockages will be. I have no idea if it will affect the tumors, but I have to say that the stillness and ease I feel are antithetical to the dis-ease that the conventional doctors diagnosed.
After the appointment, I skateboarded for a few hours then came home and went to bed. That is when the pain came in force. Alistair had said not to be too quick giving up the Gabapentin because pain can release stress hormones that will take me out of the stillness. I was up until 3 am in pain. I finally took three 100 mg capsules of Gabapentin that I had left over from a previous prescription. I then did hip circles and chi ball exercises until I fell asleep. Seems like I’m not ready to ween off pain meds yet.
Alistair had told me to drink a lot of water, which I didn’t. So I might have been dehydrated. After I fell asleep, I slept until 8:30 am when I had to get up to host an Awakin Call with Jolanda Van Den Berg. Jolanda had an experience 5 years ago that allowed her to see a state of no self that abides until this day.
I asked her about waking up with pain, and she said something like notice the pain arising without attaching any meaning to it. You may even be able to get to the point of realizing that this pain is a gift because it is the reason you are aware of living. You can even see the love in the pain.
It was a powerful reframe for me. Part of my insomnia stemmed from my shame of having to go back on Gabapentin and thoughts of pain being an indication of a growing tumor or even the need for palliative care.
I feel a lot lighter now, almost the same stillness I felt with Alistair. Pain comes and goes, but the stillness remains–unless I fall back into a story.