Sunsets and Visualization

Back on October 7, I wrote about visualizing the cancer cells dancing in the sunset like Dorothy and her friends the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Man. I continue to do the visualization as often as I think of it, usually during meditation or when viewing a sunset. My image is still essentially that the cells are moving toward the sunset, a natural cell death (apoptosis), and out of my body. I have seen some stunningly beautiful sunsets over the past months, but usually when I don't have my camera handy. The sunset here was photographed from our front porch last month, and only begins to capture the colors and the beauty of this winter sunset viewed through the trees.

Sometimes the cancer cells bring their "own" images to the visualization experience, which is always a surprise, and sometimes a question. One day later in October, the cells were all backed up as if behind a locked door (like people trapped in a fire behind an exit door that won't open). I "opened" the door and watched the cells flood out, and I directed them to the sunset, wishing them "apoptosis" as they flowed. This image had me concerned about the cancer spreading quickly for a while, but with some time having passed since then, and having had a good scan in November, I'm less anxious. And, after that image, when I "gathered" the cells in my mind's eye to travel to the sunset, it seemed there were fewer cells than there had been.

In December, one morning, the cells had picks and shovels over their "shoulders" (well, where their shoulders would be if they had them! They actually do look a little like a Pac-Man, with his round body, with skinny arms and legs), and they were skipping and singing/whistling "Whistle While You Work." This image also gave me some pause, as I don't want those cancer cells doing any work but dying, but it came around the time of my day surgery to remove "the spot," so I'm hoping the work was to go into the sunset and off to the pathology lab!

This morning, the cells were in a playful mood, and they were rolling off to the sunset, and singing something. But now, despite racking my brain, I can't remember what they were singing!

After my first description of the visualization, my friend Susan H said that she imagined me waving a "magic wand" and saying "shazzam" or some such magical word. I had to admit that I don't usually see it with the magic, but everytime I visualize her image of it, I have a chuckle. And once or twice, I've had a wand to wave.

Does the visualization make a difference? I have the same answer I had four months ago. I just don't know. But visualizing the cells, and visualizing them heading for a natural cell death as they approach a gorgeous, colorful sunset, gives me some measure of working consciously to combat their spread. And that's a good thing.

Visualizing the Cancer

In two earlier posts, (Cancer: Call it Enemy or Call it Friend? and Naming the Relationship with Cancer, Pt. II, both from August), I wrote about the difficulty I was having trying to ascertain my relationship to my cancer. The "Cancer: Call it Enemy or Friend?" post drew quite a few impassioned responses. Those responses, my further thinking, conversations with friends, and meditation, have all helped me further clarify my relationship with the cancer.

In August, I was meditating and decided to "talk" to the cancer. At that point I didn't try to visualize it, I just had a conversation. I told the cancer not to rush, that there was no place in my body it needed to move to, and that it didn't need to be moving around. I told it that its presence endangers my life, and it needs to go. This may sound a little "rational," but it worked for me. And, I have to say that when I got my second clean scan, mid-September, I remembered that conversation, and had an odd feeling that somehow the cancer was cooperating, had been "listening." I was also struck that the oncologist said my cancer was "pokey." Just what I had envisioned!

In September while meditating, a visualization about the cancer came to me spontaneously. I imagined a beautiful sunset, full of reds, purples, oranges, pinks; a totally gorgeous sunset. I imaged the cells, arm in arm like Dorothy and the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Scarecrow from "The Wizard of Oz" dancing and skipping and running toward the beautiful sunset. As they skip and dance, I wave good-bye to them, and say "Apoptosis, Guys!" (At some point in my wandering on the web, I learned that it's the word for cell death. Cell death occurs naturally and normally in our bodies as cells die and replace themselves. One problem with cancer cells as I understand it in my non-medical way, is that they reproduce quickly, and perhaps don't die as fast as we would like.)

Now here's another really odd thing. After writing the previous paragraph, I just looked up "apoptosis" in the online dictionary, and there is an online medical dictionary that has this definition: "Programmed cell death as signalled by the nuclei in normally functioning human and animal cells when age or state of cell health and condition dictates. An active process requiring metabolic activity by the dying cell . . . . Cells that die by apoptosis do not usually elicit the inflammatory responses that are associated with necrosis, though the reasons are not clear. Cancerous cells, however, are unable to experience the normal cell transduction or apoptosis-driven natural cell death process." I didn't know that! Here I've been visualizing the cancer cells having a "normal" cell death, when it seems they don't know how! Maybe they can learn!

So, when I meditate, or see the sunset, or think about the cancer cells, I wave to them, see them dancing into this beautiful sunset, and say "Apoptosis, guys, apotosis!" Is it working? I don't know, but I hope so. And, it has the added benefit of giving me a giggle as I imagine the cancer cells dancing and skipping into the sunset. Laughing is definitely good for my soul and my body. Bye, cancer cells!