It was a spring day in 1997 when my mother dropped the ‘cancer bomb’. She showed up at my door unexpectedly, telling me she was out for a drive and happened to be in the area. There was a couple of things wrong with that explanation. She rarely went for drives by herself and she had to drive an hour to ‘happen to be in the area’.
Something was up. I’d just wait her out. I made her a cup of tea and engaged in small talk with her. After a while she got up and started pacing the floor. I waited.
She Had Stage 4 Breast Cancer
Finally, she blurted it out. She had breast cancer and it was stage IV. Silence ensued. I’m not a person who reacts emotionally to stunning news. My mind seems to immediately go to asking questions, wanting more of the picture. I asked a series of questions and got the rest of the picture.
She had known she had breast cancer for a long time. She wasn’t sure but it may have been as long as ten years. She’d was determined that she was going to do this on her terms. She had watched too many friends struggle through chemo and radiation and die anyways. She wasn’t going to do so.
My mind was spinning a bit, how could anyone be so determined that she would keep this from her family? She’d never said a word to dad until a few days before. The only reason she told him was because she thought she had reached a point where some palliative care would be needed.
The Diagnosis Was Bleak
Dad took her to the doctor, who sent her for tests for a full diagnosis. The cancer was clearly advanced. The tumour on the breast took up 75% of the breast, the cancer was in her lymph nodes, there was hot spots on all the long bones in her body and at the base of her brain. Her choices had allowed it to be firmly entrenched.
She Was Determined Not to Accept Chemo or Radiation
The oncologist she saw tried his best to pressure into accepting chemo and radiation. She could be an incredibly stubborn woman, for better or worse, she stuck to her position that no, she was not going to accept it. He told her not to expect to see her next birthday. That would be about three or four months away.
My Response to Her Bombshell News
As she talked, she continued to pace around my small dining area. I sat and watched her, saw the apprehension on her face. She was looking for a reaction from me. My immediate gut reaction was to ask her what kind of idiot she was? Why the hell didn’t she seek care sooner?
I held that in check. I was not many years past my husband having been sick and dying. I knew full well, this was her journey, not mine to judge. After a few moments, I sighed and then quietly asked her what, if any, treatment she was willing to accept.
She had agreed to take tamoxifen. I would later learn that tamoxifin was an anti-estrogen drug used in the treatment of post-menopausal women with breast cancer. At the time, it was considered to be one of the more promising of the newer medications for cancer.
I could see her visibly relax. She went and sat down. She was relieved I didn’t respond by trying to push her into taking chemo. My one sister had already reacted from the gut and was upset with her for her decision. One brother had already asked the questions I set aside, although, he tends to keep his emotions in check so they were asked calmly.
Our Family Had Been Pretty Healthy, Until Now
Our family had been pretty blessed when it came to health. We lost my dad’s sister when I was teen to cancer. All but one of my grandparents had lived well into their late 90s before dying of old age. My other grandfather died at 89 after suffering years with Alzheimer's.
Our family had been pretty blessed when it came to health. We lost my dad’s sister when I was teen to cancer. All but one of my grandparents had lived well into their late 90s before dying of old age. My other grandfather died at 89 after suffering years with Alzheimer's. She would live the best she could until she died and hopefully the suffering in the end would not be long.
Enter Essiac Tea
One of my brothers reacted a tad differently. He went into the mode of wanting to ride to the rescue and save the day. A lot of people do that, I guess it’s part of our nature to want to help even when there seems to be no hope.
He showed up at the parents house with some literature and a package of something called Essiac Tea. I’d never heard of it before but it was going to end up playing a role in what was to come.
Essiac Tea is a herbal compound that a Canadian nurse Rene Caisse got from the Indians in northern Ontario in the 1920s. She treated hundreds of patients using it for cancer and other ailments. There is quite a history around Essiac, I’ll address that in another post.
Her Doctor Gives Her the Okay
My brother urged her to start using it. She accepted the material and said she’d think about it. I got a phone call from her. She wanted my input on it. I told her I couldn’t give her an opinion. I’d never heard of it. But, it might be a good idea to take it into her doctor and get his input. He should know if she was taking anything that could potentially interfere with the medication she was on anyways.
Her doctor reviewed the material. His opinion was that Essiac tea would build the immune system which wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t believe it would interfere with the meds she was taking and if anything it might help later on in countering one of the effects of the morphine she was eventually going to end up on.
So, dad brewed up a batch of the tea and she starting drinking 2ozs three to four times a day. My dad would be the hero with her care going forward. He did everything he could for her, nothing was too much to ask.
Borderline Diabetes
A few weeks later I got another call from my mother. Her doctor had told her she was borderline diabetic. It was interesting timing.
A few days earlier I had been meeting with a client who arrived from a doctor’s appointment just raging. She had been told by her doctor for years she was borderline diabetic. Today he informed her not only was she diabetic but she was insulin dependent.
That was bad enough, but when she asked her doctor how she went from borderline to insulin dependent so quickly his response was that being borderline diabetic is like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you aren’t. She was raging over his about-face from what he’d been telling her all these years.
With that fresh on my mind, I told my mother about my client’s experience. She responded by questioning how she could possibly be diabetic when she didn’t eat sweets. I tried to explain to her that our body produces insulin through digesting certain foods.
I could tell the way the conversation was going that she didn’t really understand. I guess I always assumed her being a mother, she had magically learnt all that in order to feed us right. Rather than try to get my meagre knowledge across to her, I changed direction and told her there are recommended diet plans for diabetics to control their insulin production.
Changing the Diet
She asked me to look up some material on it for her. For the most part, she didn’t need a radical change. She was big on fruits and vegetables. She also wasn’t a big eater. Probably the biggest change she made was less red meat, more fish and chicken as well as being careful to eat on a regular schedule.
Instead of the brief three or four months of life left, she would have almost three years of good quality life. She was doing well on the regulated diet and the Essiac tea. She had times she would tire easily but wasn’t suffering a lot of pain and was enjoying life and her family. The tumour on her breast had visibly shrank
Celebrating Their Golden Anniversary
September 1999 was my parents 50th wedding anniversary. The family planned a low-key gathering of friends and family. An afternoon gathering in order to be less tiring on her. We informed the parents about a week before so she could rest as she needed leading up to it. It was a good day, the family came together, and the parents had a good day.
For dad, every day with the love of his life was a blessing. He valued every one of them. Sadly, they were coming to an end.
The Final Days
Not long after the anniversary the oncologist abruptly took her off tamoxifen and put her on another drug. She had been tolerating tamoxifin well and seemed to be doing well. The parents were stunned when he walked into the exam room, without doing a physical exam announced her tumour had grown and told her the meds were being changed. The nurse would explain it.
She didn’t respond well to the new med. She was sick a lot more and starting to experience pain more. By Christmas she was starting to experience more fatigue.
Christmas was held at their place but each of us brought a dish to make sure my mother didn’t have the stress of preparing a dinner. Thirty of us gathered that day. It was a good day as well but we could see the changes that were taking place. She tried to hide it but we could see her wincing in pain. She was showing fatigue and at times seemed to struggle to find her words.
After Christmas, my mother’s decline seemed to pick up pace. She wasn’t getting around as well as she was. By late February she was experiencing swelling in the extremities and a greater level of disorientation.
I borrowed a wheelchair in early March and took it up to make it easier for dad to move her around the house. I urged Dad to get my brother over to help and the two of them getting her into the doctor.
The next day my brother was over and took her directly to the hospital. They admitted her immediately, her potassium and electrolytes were out of whack. They did a scan. The cancer had spread, it was clear she was entering her final days.
Several times in the following days, nurses would come to dad asking when mom had had surgery. They were surprised and puzzled that she hadn’t had surgery. The notes they were seeing in her chart didn’t match what they expected to see when they examined her. The oncologist refused to admit her tumour had shrunk, thus it wasn’t recorded.
Dad called the family to come in. One sister wasn’t able to fly, she was close to giving birth. The other was four hours away and needed transportation. I was to go and get her the following morning.
During the night mother's vitals started dropping. Time was getting very short. Just after my sister called to say her in-laws were providing transportation and they would soon be on their way, our mother breathed her last.
What Role Did Essiac Tea Play?
There was no question that the diagnosis my mother received almost three years before was very bleak. The oncologist’s estimate for her time to live really didn’t seem unreasonable. So, how did she have not only three years of life but three years of quality life?
I believe the Essiac Tea played a strong role in building her immune system and helping her body fight the cancer. I also believe the insulin friendly diet she was on contributed to that fight. It’s no secret that sugar feeds cancer, controlling her insulin reduced the food supply.
Can’t help but wonder if she had learned about it years before she was in stage 4 could it have helped her survive longer or even experience remission? We’ll never know.
My Own Use of Essiac Tea
A few months after my mother died, I was hospitalized with cellulitis. It’s a bacterial infection of the skin which either being staph or what is known as flesh-eating disease. Thankfully, for me, it was staph.
A skin specialist called in to examine me pronounced that I would continue to experience cellulitis and would need to be seeing him on an ongoing basis. Him being busy examining the leg that wasn’t infected at the time of his pronouncement didn’t exactly inspire confidence. I refused to see him at all.
Other people I knew did confirm to me, that they had experienced recurring bouts of it after they had it the first time. I asked dad if he had any Essiac tea around and I went on it for about a year.
During that year, something else happened. What had been chronic bronchitis disappeared. For years, I had experienced bronchitis at least twice a year and it would take the wind out of me for weeks. I chalked it up to my immune system being able to better withstand its onset.
The following year, I had a bout of bronchitis and in the following years, the odd bout of it. Currently I haven’t had bronchitis in at least 6 years. I do my best to keep my diet away from processed and sweet foods. I also use Essiac tea during the winter months to strengthen my immune system.
Conclusion
I’ve drawn my conclusions from my own personal experiences. I believe Essiac tea was a strong factor in my mother’s longer than expected life and for my relief from chronic bronchitis. I’m sure you’ll draw your own conclusion.
Oh, I’ve not had cellulitis either.