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Yesterday (08/27/02 3 PM) the sun was beaming on the lush green trees as I raced to the Doctor Barbara Mathews' office for my annual Pap smear. I made it just on time, filled out my forms and was sent to remove my clothes. The doctor was warm and professional as she directed me into the stirrups I've grown to despise through the years. Barbara's touch was gentle during the examination and my sense of embarrassment was eased as she carefully explained what she was doing. She thoughtfully apologized for her just washed, cold hands and explained that she was also going to do an ultra-sound test on me.
My previous physicians had never given me this test and the pulsing of my uterus and the new experience fascinated me. As the probe moved to the right, the doctor called my attention to the healthy color and said that the picture was normal for a person my age. As she moved to the left, I asked, "What's that dark shadow?" She hastily said that I had "a polyp or some polyps" and then as she focused on the area, the picture became all-dark. Barbara hastened to add that this could mean nothing and that these may have been here for years. I asked what would need to be done if "there was a problem". Her speech was rapid as she explained that I might need surgery as she took a picture, quickly turned off the equipment, told me to dress and to come into her office.
When I entered she was giving orders to the lab using the word "stat" which I knew to mean "as soon as possible" and mentioned "a left pelvic mass" to the person on the phone. Then she set up a 7:45 AM CT Scan for the next morning. She pulled some strings to get my appointments and told me to go immediately to have blood work at the hospital. At 6PM I was to eat lightly and at eight I was to take my first bottle of Barium Sulfate.
In somewhat of a daze, I drove to the wrong building and then walked from there to the right one. Four or five tubes of blood were filled. I was tired driving home as I wondered how and what I would say to Stan. I knew he didn't need this kind of stress in his life. We are so close that I also knew only the truth would work. And what was the truth?
Somehow I made it through dinner. When he finished his last bite, he mentioned that he would need to take my car to work the next morning. I bit my lip, tried to stop the tears and said, "Then you will have to take me to have my tests first." The story leapt from my lips. He came to my side of the table and held me as I admitted my fear and announced that I would not have Chemotherapy. Lovingly, with tears in his eyes, he whispered, "You're jumping to conclusions aren't you?"
Stan and I have been meditating since his trouble with Cancer in 1992. We went to our meditaItion room and did our evening meditation together. My experience with Transcendental Meditation is that I go immediately into an alpha state similar to how one feels upon waking in the morning-conscious of who and where they are, yet not yet totally awake.
I visualized a bright, warm, healing light on my uterus and then I visualized the left (dark) side exactly as I had seen the right side during the ultra-sound. At some point I felt a terrific peace. It was a knowing that whether the mass was cancerous or not, it was as it should be.
Stan's meditation five feet away also involved a silent visualization and positive mental affirmations regarding my condition.
After our 30-minute meditation, Stan and I watched an inspiring TV show and I drank my first bottle of Barium (needed for the CT Scan). We watched more TV and then attempted to sleep. I made plans for life and for death--things like direction and focus, were I to live and whom I could train to take over the home accounting, were I to die. In the dawn, long before departure time, I had a to-do list for each outcome and faced a cold, gray day as we left for the medical office. Stan waited with me, hating to leave and fearing the results.
The technicians were professional, gracious and even willing to talk to me in Spanish. We joked before I went through the "donut machine". I held my breath on Spanish cue as the many photos were taken of my abdomen and uterus. When all were completed, they began again. Nothing was said to me but I knew they were repeating the procedure. When the needle was removed from my arm, the nurse sincerely told me, Betty, lo mejor que podemos decir es que esperamos que no te vemos mas." She was telling me that the best they could wish for me was that they would not see me again.
As I left Mike questioned me, "Betty, have you been in pain". I answered no, that I had only experienced severe hot flashes at night. He continued with, "Have you had a test suggesting you should be here? I responded that I had had the ultra sound showing a "mass on the left side of my pelvis" yesterday. It was clear to me then, they had found nothing. This fact was confirmed when I phoned my doctors office at 2:30 PM (less than 24 hours after the ultra-sound photo had been taken) to get my medical results. All tests had proved negative-meaning there is no medical problem.
When Stan drove me home, I announced that we may have 'done it again.' The reference was to an experience in 1999, while having a routine eye exam, the physician covered my right eye and told me to read the top line. I could not make out a single letter. He changed the lens and asked again and again and again. I kept saying I could not make out any letter until the tears flowed down my cheeks. I was sent for testing for a macular hole.
My research began on the web, continued with friends and contacts that were involved in the field. What I learned was very frightening regarding my future as a sighted being. I learned about the symptoms and even borrowed the equipment I would need after surgery, if surgery were recommended. I began to meditate daily on healing the hole. When I went for my examination with a macular degeneration expert, my results came back negative-I did not have a macular hole.
I returned to my eye doctor, he repeated his test and found I could read every letter. He stated "Meditation could not do this". He tested, tested and tested again.
So why tell you this story? Perhaps there is something to doing what I did. I don't know for sure with only two cases to present but it is a start and perhaps worth noting. Here are the steps I took and suggest you try if needed:
1. Take responsibility for your health. Have annual check-ups.
2. Do as your doctors recommend.
3. Read about your disease, ask questions, and be informed.
4. Meditate and envision a white, healing light creating the result you need.
5. Be willing for a positive OR negative result to occur. This step seems very important. You must know that whatever the result, it is the best one for you.
6. Make preparations for both results. Be responsible for preparing for either outcome.
7. Share your results with your family and friends.
Today (08/29/02) beginning to doubt all that had happened and being so grateful to the technicians, who had eased my mind with their question, "Why are you here?" Irene and Mike were thrilled that I came by to thank them. I told them that I was completely healthy and that I had known that to be true when Mike expressed his confusion about my having a CT Scan.
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