This is one woman’s story of an unconventional struggle against the hospital system as well as the cancer.

It’s cervical cancer!   First it was the shock, and then the anger that six Pap smears had missed my cervical cancer, in spite of my telling my doctor that something was wrong. But this anger kept me going. Then I started to approach my cancer in the same way that we approach all things in our lives. I noticed the coincidences and decided I should be guided by them. This gave me great strength as I had to make decisions that would have a huge impact on my life - possibly resulting in my death.

For the first time in my life, I have been able to stand up for myself and be strong. It is my body and I have a choice. This kept me calm. But the greatest struggle has been against the system - trying to find out if my Pap smears were wrongly read, trying to find out what I could about cervical cancer, trying to pick my way through all the information. But most of all, I was determined right from the start that I would not allow anyone to destroy my immune system, so that meant I could not accept radical surgery or radical radiation or chemotherapy. The oncologists would only treat me in a radical way and are dismissive of alternative methods so it was all or nothing and I had to choose nothing - at least of their methods. Their attitude is virtually that if I won’t do it their way, then I can go away and die.

Fortunately, I have been guided, in large measure by coincidence, so that I have found the help I needed when I needed it. And I have learnt so much and gained so much strength along the path I have trodden - often wearily - but at least, three and a half years later, I am still here, and in better health than I have ever been. I set out below some of the milestones in my journey.

It may seem very strange, but in many ways I am really quite grateful to have had this struggle with cancer. It has strengthened me immeasurably. For the first time in my life, it has allowed me to be myself. It has forced me to say to others "No - It is my decision that matters, not what you want." This has got to be good.

At first I was very vulnerable. I had been desperately unhappy back here in New Zealand from 1995 after twenty years overseas in Africa and Britain. This return had caused me many psychological problems. But I had managed to find two people who gave valuable support to help me cope with these problems during the period 1997-1999. However, within the space of barely nine months or so before I was diagnosed, I had prematurely lost both of these main supports before I was quite ready. I had found this sudden break extremely difficult but I had thought I was coping. For the first time for a while, I had got a good job, doing the accounts for a gym. I loved it and the hours were flexible.

Now, in July 2000, less than two weeks after starting this job, when everything seemed to be looking up for a change, there was this worry of a seriously abnormal cervical smear. I was angry because I had been trying to convince my GP for quite some time that I was concerned that the cervical smear results were coming back negative when I was sure there was something wrong. There had been some abnormality before I left England, but in New Zealand, I had always been told that everything was fine. However, with typical NZ assurance, my GP blithely told me that ‘We have the best labs in the world - so the results must be right’. This did not help me feel comfortable at all, especially as by now problems in Gisborne of misreading of smears had come to light and several women were really sick.

I first had to have a biopsy using colposcopy. But the news only got worse. From that, it emerged that there was the possibility of invasive cancer. My gynaecologist wrote to my GP saying that "I hope it was not more than CIN-3" as he did not like the look of what he had seen. I was told that a cone biopsy could offer both an accurate diagnosis and also a complete removal of all the potentially cancerous tissue. I was not happy about this cone biopsy as it is a more major surgical procedure than the simple colposcopy biopsy. I had always felt that if you cut into a cancer, you risk causing it to become more aggressive. However, I eventually went ahead with the cone biopsy. This had interrupted my gym programme. I had decided that, as the accounts job was only part time and I had free membership, I might as well make use of the gym facilities each time I went down to work. What a waste it all seemed now. I was determined I wouldn’t lose the job though. That was important to me as a start on my road to independence.

But again things only got worse. When the results came back, not only did they show invasive cancer but the excised cone, about one inch in diameter, did not have what are called ‘clear margins’. Some potentially cancerous tissue remained. So I was told that I needed radical treatment. I was extremely wary of this. A simple hysterectomy, perhaps I would have considered.. But to take all the lymph nodes - just to look at them and make sure they were clear!!......No! They were there to protect me. I couldn’t go ahead with that. And I couldn’t trust the surgeons not to take them anyway, saying that they needed to on some pretext, ‘in my best interests’.

However, I was guided to alternative people who could help me deal with this cancer in a less invasive way. Unfortunately, I was pressured to have orthodox treatment every time I went near the hospital. It is quite scary to be told "You will die!" The implication, of course, was clear - that if I trusted them, I would not. No one dwelt on the fine print of survival percentages. But I had to choose to either trust them or trust what I was ‘given’. I ‘got’ very strongly that I should not have surgery. I had to really live my faith now. My life was dependent on the choices I made. The real situation was not as clear cut as the medical professionals claimed.

I asked about statistics. In time it became clear that New Zealand does not have any statistics of its own. Doctors here use statistics from Britain, America or Australia and fondly assume they will apply here. But I am here, not in Britain, America or Australia. And a recent article in The Listener magazine here suggests that my suspicions were well-founded. Survival rates in New Zealand do seem to be much poorer than in supposedly equivalent western countries. But, I didn’t know that then.

I was led to a newly arrived homotoxicologist who helped me with supplements and diets. Through him I was then found a new GP, one who was willing to support me in my endeavours rather than force me to comply with what he considered best for me. By coincidence, I was led to have Qi Gong treatment. This is a form of Chinese massage and treatment using the intent of the mind. I have continued with this and also done a couple of courses so I can understand the principles involved. There are other alternative methods I have tried, too, such as homeopathy and Neurolink and high dose Vitamin C treatment. I do feel these have given me some benefit. I struggle with Discipline - the big D to go with the big C. It is not my strongest point, but I do try. Diet and mind medicine are my strongest weapons - and these both require discipline. And Brian gives me healing which sometimes feels so strong.

Various major emotional upsets within the family caused me to slacken off my regime at times. I can always feel the emotion hitting the cancer. I joke that I have to keep any row above the waist. At first we hoped the laser cone biopsy could perhaps have cauterised the edges and so destroyed any remaining cancer. But it was not to be. The tumour grew. It appeared that some had been missed with the cone biopsy.

I made the mistake of taking on a second, unsatisfactory, job where I came under stress from a new manager. But perhaps that, too, was meant to be because it was at an aviation training school and the strange coincidences linking to the World Trade Centre attack were quite uncanny. It was as though my job was interlinked with an event which has shaken the world more than anything else since the loss of the Titanic. Then, the job ended suddenly on the day before the 56th anniversary of a B25 bomber getting lost over New York and crashing into the Empire State Building.

After the attack on the World Trade Centre, we read how Mohamed Atta and the other pilots had trained at a flying school in Florida which was very like the one I had worked at. Then somehow they had managed to get experience on simulators to enable them to take over control of Boeing 767s, change course and very precisely fly them into the North and South towers. One day, someone left an Air New Zealand Boeing 767 training manual on the photocopier. It seemed very odd at the time because our aviation school had nothing to do with such large aircraft. We only flew two seaters! The coincidences were really quite thought-provoking. But - what did it mean?

I think it was the stress in this job that triggered a relapse and an MRI showed the cancer had enlarged. A year later, it was bigger again. This was very disappointing but made me more determined.

But I then came under tremendous pressure to undergo radical radiotherapy and chemotherapy. Again, I looked into it carefully, and again I seemed to be advised very strongly from ‘outside’ to have faith and to do the best I could to strengthen my body so that it could have a fighting chance of overcoming this cancer. For a variety of reasons, my interactions with radiotherapists and chemotherapists did not inspire me with confidence. Most choose to trust them because they fear the warnings that death is the only alternative. But can these technologies really offer the cure they claimed to offer me? Again, the signs warned me that the outcome would not be as the technical experts claimed.

It was all very worrying and it does make me scared. However, I have lived my life for the past 18 years doing my best to understand the ‘signs’ and having faith that I am on the right course. So it is not unreasonable that I continue to do so, even if it may lead to my death. After all, who can say that orthodox treatment would not have exactly the same result, and possibly sooner? As it stands, I am only given a 50% chance now with that.

But what are any of their statistics worth? Would you trust statistics on smoking produced by the tobacco industry? Shortly after my initial diagnosis, I was sent a book by Brian’s ex-wife in England. It had the title ‘C’ . It had been written by John Diamond, an English journalist. It catalogues his fight with cancer. He was a firm believer in orthodox medicine and totally opposed to alternative therapies. But his gradual disenchantment with orthodox medicine becomes clear as the book progresses. One senses, ultimately, an unspoken feeling of betrayal. He progresses from a 92% chance of survival (which is about what I was given initially) to death within about eighteen months. Statistics are all very well, but each of us is an individual. Perhaps conventional treatment may be right for you. But the signs showed me it was not right for me. Everyone is encouraged to believe they will be in the successful percentage - one of the 92, not one of the 8. But are the odds really even as good as that? The signs show whether we will be in the 92 or in the 8. The implication was that I would be in the 8. Even if I had had their treatments, would I indeed be dead already?

I am sure that each and every one of us has a destiny that can be followed by seeing the signs in coincidences, following our intuition and acting accordingly. Something knows us better than we know ourselves. Life in this world is not all that there is. The purpose of this life is to do the best we can to see if we are judged worthy of eternal life. This has been made clear to us through so many experiences which are described in various of our books, such as The Alpha and Omega Codes and The Enigma Variations.

I am not afraid of dying, if that is what God intends. But the signs do suggest that I will not die of cancer. I would hope that I have time enough to finish the work God has intended for me. Sometimes I feel totally overwhelmed at the coherence we see. Sometimes the coincidences are so staggering. So often, Brian and I think the same thoughts at the same time - but coming from different directions. There does seem to be Something much greater than us, linking us together, and linking us into something of the greatest importance for the world.

I want to get our books out to enable other people to gain some understanding of what the future holds and its intricate interconnections with the past. We have spent the last twenty years of our lives in this task. It is a task we seem to have been given. You will understand what I mean if you read The Da Vinci Codes page on this site, or Mary, Daughter of Elohim or Ankhsoun, Daughter of Ra. The odds seem stacked against us - but somehow we have survived.

Life is not meant to be easy. Life is a test. I believe we are judged by how we perform in the test of life. And for the last four years, I know my life has been on the line. But what is there in this world that you can really trust? All too often, friends and family fail, although I have been fortunate with the attitude of my family to my approach to my cancer. At first some of them were worried that I was making a big mistake. But I think they have come to accept my decision and are now quite supportive.

Can you really trust what you read in the newspapers, what you hear on TV or what experts, medical or otherwise, tell you? The latter may have the best of intentions, but they do not know the future. They cannot foresee the results of their actions, or the actions of others.

So I just trust. I try to follow the treatments to which I have been led. I trust that, whatever happens, it will be the best for me in the long run.

So, I press on. I am grateful for each day. And I am certainly so much more aware of the subtlety of the changing seasons. After all, each season may be my last. I do feel confident most of the time that I can overcome this. Occasionally I fall over and become very low and get scared. But within 24 hours, I manage to pick myself up and get on course again.

I have put the story of the emotional upheavals of my cancer diagnosis into a book A Cancer Journey in the hope that my story may help and encourage others in a similar situation. An updated version of this book will be published in October 2007. I do hope it can give strength to others.

You will find a very brief account of my life and how Brian and I were brought together in Sands of Time on this site.

For details of the other books we are publishing and for a fuller understanding of the philosophy behind my decisions, please look at our Home Page and the pages about our various books.