Struggling to be free

I am encased in an Iron Maiden. I can't move my legs, my arms, or even my head. I can't breathe.  There are red-hot needles pricking the back of my right hand. A dagger is stuck in the right side of my neck. There seems to be an iron pike stuck down my left nostril. They even had a virginity belt strapped on to me. What's more, they keep forcing an iron mask over my face. Torture! I decide to fight to be free.

I claw at the dagger in my neck. I want to pull out the iron pike in my nostril. I try to tear off the needles in my hand. And that iron mask! Isn't being encased in an Iron Maiden pain enough? Heartless Inquisitors!

When the effects of my hallucinatory drugs start to wear off and I become a bit more lucid, I realize that I am in my hospital bed. I remember that I have just had what was supposed to be a sigmoidectomy, or the removal of a small portion in the lower part of my colon near my anus, to remove a growth that was revealed by my colonoscopy.

I had the colonoscopy yesterday, so the sigmoidectomy was my second medical invasive procedure in less than a week. I move my hands under the blanket and I feel a piece of plastic over my stomach. I stop moving my hands because I have no idea why that plastic is there. Cris and Michael are in the room with me, but I stay still, close my eyes, and go back to sleep. The pain reliever drug helps.

When I wake up again, I feel less drugged. Cris gets up and comes over to my bedside. She smiles and gently strokes my arm. (The time for the “pisil-pisil” is not yet.) My surgeon and his residents pay me a visit. They explain that the sigmoidectomy didn't push through. The growth had calcified and removing it would have caused more damage. They exposed a portion of my colon on my tummy and bore a hole and covered it with a colostomy bag. That's the plastic I felt over my stomach. I had been hoping against hope that it was just plastic. Colostomy bag confirmed.

My surgeon added that after some weeks or months, when the tumor size is substantially reduced, and I was stronger, they might be able to proceed with another surgery to remove the tumor and put the colon back inside the tummy. My surgeon, who loves to make jokes, related that his father had a colostomy bag for 13 years which he learned to empty and clean himself, and was able to live comfortably with it. He told the story to encourage me about having the bag. Unfortunately, after 13 years, on a visit to the States, his Dad was run over by a newly-licensed lady driver while crossing the street a few steps ahead of his wife. C'est la vie, ou le mort, I suppose.

That evening, Cris told me the facts about my struggles for freedom. The dagger in my neck was the IJ (intrajugular) line inserted to allow administration of fluids direct to the heart and free my arms of IV (intravenous) lines.  Soon after my restless delirium, the IJ leaked then got dislodged.  The cardiac surgeon who inserted the IJ in the Operating Room, later wondered how it got pulled as the line is quite deep, and sewn to my skin!

The iron pike in my left nostril was the NGT (Nasal Gastric Tube) to help the removal of whatever gastric juices had to be released from my stomach. The virginity belt was of course, my catheter and diaper.  I pulled at my catheter, and fortunately Cris was able to reattach the joint quickly.  

The iron mask that was being forced over my face was nothing more than my oxygen mask, supposed to help me breathe better. It was being held over my nose and mouth by Cris and Michael, and I kept warding them off in my delirious thrashing about.  I kept saying, “I'll just drink it instead” and would get it and hold it to my mouth like a cup.  

Cris and Michael looked at each other, and could hardly stop from laughing. “What is there to drink from an oxygen mask?” Anyway, to humor me, they tilted the mask like a cup over my lips. They said I calmed down after that and went to sleep.

I woke up enough to hear the nurse say the doctors had ordered me to be restrained. What! I had just won freedom over the Iron Maiden and the Iron Mask, and they wanted me restrained to my bed? I know that in my half-consciousness, I vigorously protected my freedom. No restraints; no way. I don't care what the doctors want. The nurse asked Cris whether she was willing to sign a waiver for the restraints. I told her to sign anything they wanted, as long as I was not restrained. I even promised not to thrash about again.

So, they left me alone to enjoy my relative freedom, but kept very close watch by my side. I was wrapped in my blanket, unable to move much anyway. Orderlies change my diaper and wash me up. Nurses drain my bags, and administer my medicines and pain relievers. I wake up at 6am when the surgery residents would come to dress my wound and poke it. They were Cris' poking teachers.

More later of how I got to be in the hospital and what the next steps are supposed to be, as we continue going through Benjie's life together.

Medical update - 4 May 2009??

as you may have guessed, i've been on a roller coaster ride since 15 apr. i was feeling great that morning. no aches, pains, or major problems. just had to take our younger children to our hmo for check-up for colds. we saw an old friend, bobby and linda t. bobby suffered a stroke years ago but has steadily worked himself back to almost 100% capacity; a medical success story.

when we got home, i went to the bathroom to take a pee. i didn't bother to turn on the lights. as i was passing water, i felt a tug in my penis. i looked down and saw dark, murky water. i thought, 'someone must have neglected to flush.' but the water was so dark, i wanted to check it out. when i turned on the lights, the water in the bowl was dark red. and my heart dropped real fast, like that first drop on a roller coaster after the initial climb. i knew i was in trouble. but i was also in denial. i thought, 'that's just now. it should clear up by the next piss.'

it didn't. nor in the next. i kept quiet about it. not difficult since cris wasn't home. i just had to close the bathroom door.

by nighttime, i was feeling major discomfort, but no real pain. at about  9pm, i told cris i needed to go for a check-up the next day, because, 'don't be shocked, and don't worry, but i've been pissing blood the whole day.' she didn't faint or shout or anything. she just quietly said, 'ok'.

at 2am, i couldn't pass water. i thought, 'oww! but it'll go away. i'll go to the hospital in the morning.' i knew i was in major trouble. no check-up for me. i was sure i'd be confined, and the chances of my worst fear (then) of a catheter loomed large. another huge dip.

at 3, i got up, still couldn't piss and was in pain already because of a full bladder. i woke cris up (she'd just gone to bed at 2am bec she was still doing some work. my wife, the workaholic.) i told her to bring me to the hospital immediately. we hurriedly changed and i drove to makati medical. she offered to drive, but i told her i needed to do it to get my mind off the pain.

we were in the emergency room by 330, and the catheter was in by 4am. 

It's Your Choice

Been some time since I've blogged. But circumstances push me to write this article. A couple of people I know are suffering from Stage 4 cancer. Although I've explained the protocol I'm following, I don't think I'm getting through. And it's been like this in at least 6 other instances. 2 people have died, and the others have chosen other treatments. They're still alive.

Which is the point of it all anyway, isn't it? Staying alive?

When friends approach me about my protocol for people they care about, I tell them that it has kept me alive and well for close to 5 years now. They appear enthusiastic. They listen closely to everything I say. They take down the phone of Dr. Dy-Liacco (http://www.icaaa.com.ph/Health.asp?Subject=Fundamentals%20of%20Natural%20Healing.......How%20Food%20Supplement%20Can%20Heal%20Faster%20Than%20Synthetic%20Drugs), and say they'll get in touch with him.

Then when I see them again, they say that the patient can't take the diet I have to use. They can't take the raw pork pancreas and the raw beef liver.  And they definitely can't take the coffee enema. (What? You haven't heard of that before? Well, that's because I haven't written about that yet. But I've got a blog post ready. I just have to post it, and I will, right after this.)

If they feel they can't follow the protocol and decide on chemotherapy or radiation or other western medication or other alternative medicine treatments, I respect that. As long as it works for them, gets rid of the cancer and keeps them alive, I'm all for it. Different strokes for different folks.

But I tell them to monitor the status of their patient closely. If they notice that their treatments don't work, then maybe it's time to look for another remedy. If the cancer goes on remission, then recurs, that's an indication. If it comes back again and again, that's a stronger indication. If it appears in another part of their body, hey, watch out!

And if the cancer gets to Stage 4, then I would call that a major indicator. Wouldn't you?

Western doctors rely on two treatments: radiation and chemotherapy. Sometimes, they mix these up. Sometimes, they add medications. But most of the time, these medications are fix-its for the side effects of the radiation or chemotherapy treatments.

In some instances, they'll go for an operation first to try and remove the first indication of cancer. Surgical strikes work in certain cases. I felt it worked in my case until they did a CT scan on me and an MRI. According to the readings, my cancer metastasized to a spot in my left lung, and to my entire right arm. By that time, I had learned that wherever the cancer metastasizes to, it retains the name of the original cancer. In my case, the spot in my lung continued to be classified as renal cancer, not lung cancer.

I had also learned that renal cancer, wherever it appears, will not respond to radiation or chemotherapy. That was my first lucky break.

My oncologist offered medication that would prolong my life for 6 to 9 months, 12, if I got lucky. All to the tune of about P250,000 for every month of treatment. After one month of treatment, I would be off the medication until they assessed the effectivity of the drugs. Then, it would be another month of drugs, alternated with a month's rest. And so on, until, either I died, or a breakthrough happened and a cure for cancer was found.

Fat chance! I've been hearing that since my high school days, and continue to hear it. If you don't have cancer, the thought of a cure cheers you up and gives you hope. Maybe by the time you get cancer, the cure will have been discovered by GSK or Astra or some other pharmaceutical company.

But if you're looking at a 6 to 9 months lifespan, you don't have that much hope of a miracle discovery. I didn't feel I wanted to spend that much money to wait for a cure. That was my second lucky break.

I didn't have enough money for the medications. If I did, who knows, I might still be spending P250,000 every other month, living the life of a suffering cancer patient, or I might be living the life of a corpse. If the corpse has a life. Well, zombies are walking dead, so maybe that's some sort of life.

Given the two lucky breaks, I had no alternative but to look elsewhere for a cure. And whaddaya know? There is a cure for cancer! And it's called Dr. Kelley's Protocol (http://www.cancertutor.com/metabolic/#.Uto7FpCwrVN), which is the treatment Dr Dy-Liacco introduced to me, and which I continue to follow.

Dr. William Kelly was an American dentist who suffered from prostate cancer. His doctors gave up on him and told him to leave the hospital and wait in the comfort of his home. Well, Dr Kelly had no intention of peacefully waiting for Dr Death.
He developed a treatment that was a combination of proper nutrition, detoxification, and supplements of pancreatic enzymes. He treated himself and lived for another 25 years, finally dying of a heart attack. Well, we all have to go some time, some way.

He had 10,000 documented cases of cancer treatments when John Hopkins University sent a graduate medical student to study his treatment and look into his documents. His cure rate was 93% if the patient had a previous history of radiation or chemotherapy. If there were no such treatments, his cure rate went up to 97%.

The John Hopkins researcher, named Nicholas Gonzales, resigned from John Hopkins and set up his own clinic in Manhattan, using Dr Kelley's protocol to cure cancer. Check him out on Google (http://www.dr-gonzalez.com/index.htm).

A drowning man will grasp at straws. At the time, this straw looked to me like a log that would save my life. I contacted Dr. Dy-Liacco, a prostate cancer survivor himself who studied metabolic medicine under Dr Kelley. He introduced me to the protocol and gave me my first taste of frozen pork pancreas in his house in La Vista subdivision.

I will always remember his words to me, “I'm not going to cure you of cancer. Only you can cure yourself. And if you follow what I tell you to do, you will be cured.” I liked that, that I had control of what happened to me.

You've read all these before, but it bears reminding. If your cancer has progressed from Stage 1 to Stage 2 to Stage 3 to Stage 4, despite repeated radiation and chemotherapy treatments, I would think you'd want to try something new. But you have to make up your own mind. It is your choice.

Your doctor who prescribed chemotherapy on your Stage 2 cancer, and watched it progess to Stage 3, and prescribed more chemotherapy, and watched it become Stage 4, will not try anything new. They will not admit that their treatments do not work. So they see the Stage 4 cancer patient lose weight, become weak physically, and they will still recommend more aggressive chemotherapy.

As if at the brink of death, more of the same treatments that most probably aggravated your cancer, will suddenly, miraculously, heal you and take away your cancer. What are the chances of that?

So if you're at Stage 4, and your doctor has nothing new to try, but more of the same old, same old, look around for something different. Because only something new and untried will cure you.

If you're at Stage 4, what do you have to lose? Your wonderful, friendly relationship with your caring doctor? What about your life?

When your doctor gives up on you, tells you to pack your things, and go home to wither away in the comfort of your home, then it's time to try something you haven't tried before.

There are several alternative treatments out there. But this is one that I've proven works. So has Dr Dy-Liacco himself. Isn't it worth a try?

But maybe I've overstressed the raw pork pancreas and raw beef liver, with siling labuyo, and 6 saba bananas a day diet. Maybe I've painted a picture of a macho man on a macho diet.

But if you have the money, you don't have to eat raw pork pancreas or raw beef liver. If you live in the US of A, where in H are you going to get fresh raw pork pancreas and raw beef liver?

There are capsules of porcine pancreatic enzyme. Sound good? That's enzymes from pork pancreas. There are capsules of beef liver enzymes. Drink those and you'll still be on the protocol.

I bought a bottle of porcine pancreatic enzyme capsules myself, for the times I wasn't at home to eat the raw pork pancreas. For every two spoonfuls of raw pork pancreas, the equivalent dosage was 12 capsules. At 3 meals of 12 capsules a day, a P10,000 bottle of 500 capsules would last me almost, but not quite, 14 days. Too rich for my blood, so I used it sparingly and kept to the raw meat.

Those are the choices for your Stage 3 or 4 cancer patients, more of the same treatments that haven't worked in the past, or new alternative medicine treatments that work.

It's your choice. I just hate to see a life lost, without a good fight.

And that's life as Benjie, offering you choices to live with.

in and out of lions' dens

my right lower leg, from below the knee to the ankle, has been swollen from may 2010. some of you may know that i suffered 3rd degree burns in that leg in 1978, and the area has been susceptible to some discomfort when i stand in one place for long periods of time, say 10 minutes. it was traumatized when i participated in our ppcrv in the 2010 national elections, when i had to go up and down 4 floors in 3 different schools, checking on the election proceedings.

dr jimmy gave me some supplements for the blood clots, but the swelling didn't subside. i guess because i never slowed down my activities, and went on as if i was a 30-year old.

anyway, my leg started to get tiny cuts because the skin was stretched tight. there was some secretion of blood and something else. cris was really worried and kept asking me to see a cardiologist, because dr jimmy did say i had leaky heart valves and blood clots. i kept resisting because of the lions.

you know the lions? ferocious animals that stand square in front of you, and stare you down. when they have you sufficiently paralyzed with fear, they pounce, leaving you like humpty dumpty, in a hundred tattered pieces, with no one to put you back together again. that's how i see regular doctors, lions.

but you can never run away from a determined woman. sooner or later, they wear you down. so after a month of cris' constant, uhmmm, insisting, i gave in and agreed to see a cardio, who would prescribe tests to be done.

on nov 26, cris and i walk into the cardio's office. seems like a pleasant enough young lady, until she responded to my english greeting, in tagalog, which rang my warning bells. this usually means one of two things.

first, they answer me in tagalog because they can't speak english fluently. if i think that's the case, i'm cool with it. pilipino naman ako, kaya mag salita tayo sa ating sariling wika. but since this lady was a medical doctor, with an office in makati med, the first scenario couldn't be true.

the second scenario, scares me especially with doctors. they don't think you can understand the english they speak because they're doctors. that puts me in a disadvantage already. even more worrisome, is that they want to make sure you understand them because it's a matter of life and death. your life; your death.

the cardio starts off with (in pilipino), "i'm not going to inspect your leg just yet. i just want to ask some questions to get some background information." you can hear the unspoken addendum, "there are no right or wrong answers here, but God help you if you say the wrong thing."

• "how long has your leg been swollen?" since may.
• "are you diabetic?" cris: "not really. he has elevated fasting blood sugar levels though. or did, when he had his radical nephrectomy."
• "do you have a heart condition?" me: "no." i didn't feel like telling her about the leaky heart valves and blood clots. one, let her diagnose me herself. two, she'll never believe me when i tell her how dr jimmy diagnosed it.
• "do you smoke?" me: "no." cris: "he did, until the operation. before that, he didn't just smoke cigarettes. he smoked cigars and unfiltered cigarettes." me: rolling of my eyes. trust my wife to give more information than is necessary.
• "have you gone back to your (kidney doctor)?" me: "no."
• "no? why not?" me: (shrug of the shoulders.)
• "are you taking any medication?" me: "medication as in medicines? no." and i start thinking, "uh-oh. here we go". cris: "he is very committed to his alternative medicine treatment. he diets and takes food supplements. i had to really convince him to come and have tests done."
• "oh? what supplements do you take?" cris and i look at each other. we have this small joke about how very appropriate the names of my supplements are. 'heart valve" for my leaky valves; "clot" for my blood clots. "heart ease" to strengthen my heart. and so on and so forth. me: "just herbal supplements."
• "what herbal supplements? can you bring them next time? and any literature you have." me, thinking only. "literature? you think this stuff is made by astra or novartis or smith-kline? you want to see the supplements? would you understand the ingredients?" obviously, i'm starting to get irritated.

then, she says, "ok, can i see your leg?" and i lift my right leg on cris' chair, pull up my pants, and let her start poking around.

"oh, it has tiny wounds already. and there is some secretion. and it's hot to the touch, which normally means there's considerable infection. could you lie down? i'd like to check it out closer." and i know, this is not going to be good for me.

finally, she tells me to sit up and blasts me, "you know? i'd like to have you confined right away, for about 3 days." there you go. lions. they try to get you every time.

me: "uh-uhh. nope, i don't think so. no way."

cris, ever the reasonable one, asks: "why do you want him confined?"

cardio: "i'd like to give him antibiotics via an iv. then, have a vascular surgeon run some tests for a blood clot. and we can have the leg debris-fied (or, in simple words, clean up the dead skin of the leg)."

me: "oh, i see. no, thanks."

cardio: "well, having anticipated your answer, i will now prescribe an anti-biotic i would like you to take orally."

me (showing a bit of reasonableness): "fine."

while she writes out the prescription, she also mentions some tests she wants done – Doppler ultrasound on my leg, 2d echo, ecq, fbs, blood chemistry. to which cris adds her 2 cents: "urine and stool?"

cardio: "i will still recommend you see a vascular surgeon just to get his opinion. and your kidney doctor to check on your diabetes."

by this time, she had got me scared shitless, what with her diabetes and blood clots and her heart condition, and my need for a vascular surgeon and my diabetes doctor. i hate being scared especially about my health. so, as usual, cris had to bear the brunt of my anger as soon as we left the doctor's office.

me: "so, what did we learn that we didn't already know going in? dr jimmy already said i had blood clots, and how many, and where they are. we already knew i had venous thrombosis (that's my swollen leg). so now, i have to go through more tests to tell me the same things we already know?"

cris, as always patient and reasonable: "let's just get the tests done, then we'll have confirmation of dr jimmy's diagnosis."

me: "i don't need confirmation! i already know."

but because cris is who she is as a person, and what she is to me, i finally relent. we get the authorizations for my tests. and later on, using my senior citizen privileges for the first time, i buy my antibiotics. by that time, i was sufficiently calmed down so that cris didn't have to accompany me to make sure i bought them.

the next monday, she drops off my urine and stool samples. tuesday, we go for my 2d echo. cris goes to the hospital 2 hours before i have to be there to make sure i have a firm appointment and so i don't have to wait too long. she was probably worried i'd get impatient and walk out of the test.

15 minutes after i get there, the technician comes for me. we enter a fairly large bare room, containing the ultra-sound machine, a cot, and small desk and 2 chairs. as is the standard practice, the lighting is dim (what is it they don't want to see, or they don't want you to see clearly? they're not going to allow you to sleep, anyway). the aircon is close to freezing.

she starts the probing. the machine emits its blurbs, beeps, pings, and ga-zhoos, ga-zhoos (i realize this last is the sound of my blood rushing thru my veins). this goes on for a minute or two.

then, another person comes in, says a soft, "good morning" and joins the technician . must be a doctor cause she's got a white gown on while the nurse is dressed in blue scrubs. she sits beside the technician, and they talk in low, subdued tones, just enough for you to know they're talking, but no loud enough for you to make out what they're saying. and you know they're talking about you while the machines goes, "ping. ga-zhoos, ga-zhoos. blurp. ping. ga-zhoos, ga-zhoos."

then, it's over. you dress up and leave. now, you start your wait for the results on tenterhooks. they work hard looking for something wrong with you.

two days later, with all the tests done, we go see the vascular surgeon. the results are encouraging. no clots found in my right leg. fbs is normal.

the surgeon is an elderly, but energetic man about my age or a little older. he's friendly and very informal. i like him immediately.

he checks out my leg, which has noticeably improved because of the antibiotics i've been taking. he prescribes medication i have to take for a month, and some exercises for my right leg. he knows that my leg hurts when i stand in one place for some time, and that the pain subsides when i walk around. he says walking is good because it makes the blood circulate. standing still or sitting down does not force circulation, so i need to do the exercise while i'm on the computer or when i'm reading. he also advises me to keep my leg up when seated.

he asks me how i take care of my leg and i tell him i wash it with soap and water, then apply bactroban to the wounds. when the leg itches, i massage it with coconut oil. he says i already know how to care for my leg, except he wants me to use petroleum jelly instead of coconut oil. grist for the pharma industry.

after the surgeon, we go see my cardio. as i expected, she found something negative in my test results. they normally do, no matter how good your test results are.

she's satisfied with the doppler test on my leg showing i don't have any blood clots in my right leg. my 3-month sugar level average is in the normal range but my fbs is elevated. so, as expected, that's what she zeroes in on. not that my 3-month level is normal but that my fbs level on the day i had my blood test, is kinda high.

since she can't get a hold of anything specific on me, she wants me to repeat the blood test in 2 weeks and go back to her, and to see my kidney doctor, because i have slightly high creatinine and have only 1 kidney left. then, she subscribes metformin. i say i don't like taking medicine, so she says it's up to me, but she'll prescribe it in case i change my mind.

a week later, i see my kidney doctor, a young, pleasant guy. at first, he cannot place me. i tell him i had my right kidney removed a year ago. he asks how i am. i tell him, i'm good. he asks, why i'm seeing him then. i tell him, it's my wife. she's worried about my creatinine level. she insisted i come see him.

that's when his memory kicks in. he remembers cris, sight unseen. he asks me what treatment i've had for my cancer, though he doesn't mention the dreaded "c" word. i tell him i'm on alternative medicine, basically dieting. i explain that since renal cancer didn't respond to radiation or chemotherapy, and medications would only extend my life, not cure the cancer, i made a decision to go with alternative medicine.

he says that removing the tumor would work. i said that's what i did. he said, "yeah, but didn't they find traces after the operation?"

me: "and that's what i needed alternative medicine for."

he looked at the results of my blood and specimen tests, and pronounced them very good. he told me to tell cris that an elevated creatinine level and higher that normal fbs results are to be expected when the patient has only 1 kidney. otherwise, i'm good. the reason for alarm with my cardio (having only 1 kidney), is the same reason why my kidney doctor is comfortable with my creatinine and fbs levels.

just to be on the safe side (and to keep the medical system rolling merrily along), my kidney doctor told me to have an x-ray and an ultra-sound for my abdominal cavity area, which i dutifully did, with cris right behind me.

another week later, i'm waiting for my cardio to pronounce judgment over me. i've seen the x-ray, fbs, and ultra-sound test results, and everything's ok with me. as the results say, unremarkable, which i take it is remarkably good for someone my age, having been through what i have.

these tests confirm the magic diagnosis that dr jimmy makes. the 2d echo says i have mild mitral regurgitation, which is consistent with my leaky heart valves dr jimmy said i had. the fact that it's mild is probably because i'm on the last leg of my alternative medicine treatment for that. i have no clots in my right leg, again, probably because i've been taking my supplements. my aorta is athroscerotic, which is probably connected with the thick blood dr jimmy diagnosed.

i'm glad i consulted with dr jimmy before taking these tests, or the doctors would probably have given me a heart operation, a venous surgery, and whatever bloody procedure they dream up. as it is, they're catching the tail-end of my defects.

it's nice to know that on God's green earth, there are many wondrous things, including alternative medicine and traditional medicine. they have their uses. we only have select whatever fits your needs.

they will all work in varying degrees. especially when you're comfortable with the treatment and believe in it. i don't believe fear helps at all, other than to make sure you follow your doctors' orders. but if they explain how their treatment works and it sounds logical to you, i don't see why you wouldn't follow it.

hang on a minute. my appointment with the cardio's up.

i was finishing this update while waiting for the cardio. she looked at all the good test results, and focused on the one result that was not perfect. my fbs reading was 110.48. maximum normal is 110. and she goes, "i'm really concerned about your fbs level. but you're taking the metformin i prescribed, right?"

wrong! "no, i'm not."

shocked! "why not?!!"

"i'm into alternative medicine, remember?"

"well, there's nothing i can do for you anymore then, if you won't listen to my advice. cardio-wise, there's nothing wrong with you. the rest is between your kidney doctor, your vascular surgeon, and you. good'bye!"

and she flipped me off. well, maybe not quite, but that's the feeling i got. no problem. i hope i never have to see her again.

and that's life as benjie after 60, looking for help anywhere, and generally finding it with the grace of God.

oh, a merry christmas to all, and to all a happy new year!

overcoming anxiety

i only know of only one character in the whole world who is anxiety-free; alfred e. neumann, the "what, me worry?" guy of mad magazine. on the other hand, there's good ol' charlie brown, who worries that even the sky will fall on him.

in between these two are you, me, and the rest of the world. we worry about our health, our wealth; our parents' conditions, our children's future, our friends' loyalty, and the enmity of others. we fret about our jobs or the lack thereof. we agonize over both our future and our past, which we would change if we could.

we deal with our anxieties in different ways. we seek relaxation through yoga or massages. we escape in tv, movies, social \networking sites, and video games. we sweat out our tensions in sports. we turn artistic and play the guitar or the piano, or we dance, or write a poem. we succumb to our dark side with drugs, alcohol, and other vices. in times of desperation, we turn to a God we may or may not fully believe in, but who we hope will help us just the same.

in may of this year, cris and i had our 4-1/2 storey house (half the house was 3 bedrooms one on top of the other, all over the garage; the other half, a single level with living room, dining room, kitchen, and another bedroom and bathroom.), torn down. we started the construction of a real 4-storey apartment building.

a construction project is a journey through unknown perilous territory. most mornings, i'd wake up bright and early, full of hope and excitement about the anticipated progress for the day, but almost before i finish my breakfast, problems rise up to darken our day.

for example: one fine day while the old house was being demolished, our foreman came to report that the wrecking crew had knocked a hole in our neighbor's downstairs wall.

instant nightmare visions of an irate neighbor demanding reparation. "rebuild my wall at your expense, or else!" anxiety attacks the body! the heart palpitates, the temper rises. the stomach rumbles, the head aches, the vision blurs, the blood pressure shoots up, and the voice drops to a growl. "you knocked down the neighbor's wall!?"

at times like these, there's no time for yoga. sports would be inappropriate. and you feel more like beating up someone with your guitar, or better yet, your piano, than playing him a tune. so i aim a silent knee-jerk plea heavenward, "help!", without any expectation of a response.

i walk over to the site, my intestines all tied up in knots. i look at the damage, and see a hole in their downstairs bathroom wall, the size of my racing heart. after inspecting the damage carefully, our mason reports that the affected portion has no concrete hollow blocks. no hollow blocks, no wall. tiles were simply added to our wall. naturally, when we tore down our walls, the hole appeared on their wall. what a relief. it's not our fault after all!

but wait! we still have to explain things to our neighbor and hope he accepts the situation. what if he refuses our finding? what if he says his house was quietly standing there, minding its own business, when we messed with it?

but next day, the neighbor is very reasonable. he owns up to the mistake in their construction. he agrees to pick up the tab for the damaged wall.

at another time, we needed to buy the 2nd-hand steel beams for our place. the beams were in a warehouse in valenzuela. the agent, whom i had met only once before, told me over the phone that we had to pay a reservation fee for the steel beams so they would hold the beams for us. ok, no problem. the reservation would have to be paid in cash. no problem. deposited to their bank account. waaiiittaminute. and what proof would i have that i paid them money? the deposit slip of course. and what proof do i have that they owe me goods in return? well, you get a provisional receipt once they see the deposit slip. oh, really, nellie? i haven't even seen the beams yet, nor have i met the owner. well, that's just the way it works, boss.

fine! here's the plan. i leave at 930am, probably get there by 11 latest; deposit the money at the bank a few hundred meters from their office, and rush to their office for my receipt.

only, the best plans get waylaid by metro manila traffic, especially approaching noon time in valenzuela. i was able to meet my agent at 12:10. i say, "let's deposit the reservation fee, then go immediately to their office."

"actually, boss, it's their lunch break so we'll have to wait until 1pm. in the meantime, you're right, we deposit the money so we don't waste time, then wait for them to open up again. just hang on to the deposit slip."

oh, that's a great comfort! if i have the deposit slip, they can't withdraw the money, is that it?

the moment we enter the bank, anxieties begin to torment me. is this wise? am i being ripped off? i start with my silent prayers again. "oh, please God, help! protect our money. protect me from con men."

when i hand the money to the teller, she tugs at it but i don't let go. she looks up at me. i smile sheepishly and force my fingers to open up one by one. "God, bless this money that it may be used for its purpose." bye-bye, money.

i get the deposit slip and look at it forlornly. it's not as impressive as the blue bills i gave up. it doesn't even have my name on it to prove that it was once mine. "God, bless this deposit slip that it may bind the steel owners to our transaction."

we have to wait for their office to open. do we have lunch somewhere while we wait? not on your life. i park the van right at the gate. forget the food. i'll eat the steel beams when i see them. "God, help me keep my sanity while we wait for the gates to open."

finally, finally! FINALLY!! it's 1pm! the gates open and we are allowed into the sanctum sanctorium. the place is a huge 1,000 sqm warehouse packed with different kinds of steel products. my fears are appeased. the deposit slip goes to the office and out comes the provisional receipt. ahh, relief. my fears subside, my heartbeat slows, and my stomach quiets down. i won't eat the steel beams.

an hour later, i whisper, "thank you, God!" gratitude is an afterthought.

a little later, we had to buy a 2nd-hand generator for the welding machines to be used in erecting the steel structure. my crew checked it out and the verdict was it was very good, with only 120 hours logged in the meter, it was practically unused. it looked so good, they didn't even bother to start it.

we got it back to the construction site and did a detailed inspection. several parts were missing - the motherboard for the electric gauges, the oil pump, a few other things. my crew assured me, these were minor problems.

minor! MINOR? the thing won't start! that's not minor. for the amount we paid for it. that's a major disaster.

we decided to get a maintenance engineer from the distributor of the generator brand to conduct a thorough assessment. between the time we called the guy and the time he came, a week passed by. i wasn't too worried because i was told there were lots of spare parts for this model.

the engineer came and conducted his assessment. he reports to me. "boss, it'll take a month and half again of your purchase price to get it running." A MONTH!? the parts have to be sourced from singapore, boss. AND ADDITIONAL HALF OF THE PURCHASE PRICE!!?? singapore dollars, boss, with conversion fees, transportation costs, import tariffs, "for the boys" in customs. you know how it goes, boss.

this time, an extreme anxiety attack is called for. i'm responsible for construction purchases. the money's been paid, the generator delivered, but it will take more money to get it working. more than the money, i worried about my family. what will happen to my children when cris finds out i screwed up big time, and wrings my neck? how will they take not having a father around?

buy some time. stall. don't mention this to cris. maybe a miracle will happen. "God, help! what do i do? where can i go? what will happen to me?" in the meantime, i lie awake in bed at night thinking of the inutile generator. every morning, i wake up hoping it was all a nightmare, and that the generator works. and then, i go out and see it sitting there, useless.

on an exceptionally despondent day, i frantically plead with God for a solution to the problem. He says, "have i let you down yet? have i been sleeping on the job? or do you think your frenzied ranting and worrying solved your problems? did your friends or your crew ? did your money buy you out of your predicaments?"

belatedly, i realized the pattern wasn't: problem,resolution; problem; resolution. something was missing. when problems appeared, solutions just didn't magically pop up. the pattern was problem-prayer-resolution; problem-prayer-resolution. the prayer after the problem resulted in the resolution. cause and effect. logical.

today, we still face other problems; diminishing funds, construction mistakes, missed deadlines. do i fret? do i worry?

of course i do! i haven't nailed down this complete faith and total surrender business down to where i no longer worry. i do. if i had faith the size of a mustard seed, i would tell the mulberry bush to be uprooted and plant itself in the sea , and it would. but i still can't do that, even if i happen to see a mulberry bush. i still have a way to go before my faith gets to be the size of a mustard seed.

st. paul says faith is believing in things yet unseen. your faith leads you to expect answers to your prayers. but expectant faith is only the beginning. earnest and immediate gratitude to the God who provides, closes the circle of faith. without an acknowledgment of the gift or the Giver, faith is without foundation.

you might say we never faced any real problems, so no solutions were needed, or the solutions didn't require miracles. maybe so, but then about 80% to 90% of our problems aren't real anyway. just products of our fears because we don't control every facet of our lives. if we did, we'd feel so secure, we'd have no worries.

but the 10% - 90% of our problems are very real, totally beyond our control. our health deteriorates, we lose our wealth, things that brought us a feeling of security fail us. we realize that despite our intelligence, our money, our talents, even our good looks, we are helpless in the face of what's out there. that's when we look to miracles. that's when i turn to God.

my health issues last year brought me awareness of my Lord. i've gotten over my cancer with His healing. this year, my health problems are no less threatening with two blood clots in my brain. but i worry less about my health these days because i've learned to entrust it to the Lord. this year, i'm learning to leave the rest of my life up to Him, without abdicating my responsibilities. it's a comfortable feeling that reduces my fears.

and that's life as benjie, getting over anxiety with generous helpings of faith.

oh, about the generator. we got it working at half the estimated cost of the maintenance engineer, though it it still look 3 weeks to get all the needed parts from bulacan, novaliches, and p. florentino st. it's working very well and easily handles the load of 4 welding machines.

here we go again!

gahds! it's so difficult growing old. you're forced to learn difficult new words now and then. last year, i learned about radical nephrectomy, renal cancer, metastasized cells, diabetes, and fasting blood sugar. towards the end of the year, there were retinopathy, amblyopia, and cataract surgery.

this year, the new words are blood clots, venal thrombosis, leaky valve, mitral valve prolapse, and blood coagulation. when will it ever end?

dec 2009. dr jimmy told me i was cancer-free; but had to continue my protocol for 6 more months to be cancer-free? no problemo!

april 2010. he said i could finally drop the raw liver from my diet, and cut down on the raw pork pancreas from 7 servings a day to just 3. maintenance medicine. well, alright!

then, i started to get cocky. i would cheat on my diet. nothing big; no red meat definitely. one day, a lick of vanilla ice cream. a week later, a bite of edam or gouda cheese. a few days later, maybe a small slice of chocolate fudge cake. then, store-bought baguette with margarine and cheese. and chocolate-chip cookies. and pancakes with maple syrup.

like any forbidden activity, it starts out small. when nothing tremendously bad happens, no lightning and thunderclaps, no loud booming voice from above saying, "hah! you cheat!", then you add a little more to the sin. the next day, a little bit more. until one day, you realize, what started out as cheating is now your normal, run-of-the-mill, everyday life. i'm sure you know how that goes.

this last may, i got involved with the ppcrv (parish pastoral council for responsible voting) in the country's 1st automated elections. on election day, i manned my post at a public elementary school a couple of blocks from our home, at 630am. it was a very busy day, and at one point, i had to run up and down 4 flight of stairs from my assigned poll precinct to the ppcrv information table downstairs, back up to the precinct, down to the 2nd floor to the principal's office, and up again. i stayed until 10pm, then had to go to another school building to manage a situation between a ppcrv member and a teacher who was the chairman of the electoral board of a precinct. it entailed running up 3 flights of stairs, down to the 2nd floor and up again (twice) and then back down again.

two days later, my right foot and lower leg had swelled up to a fourth more than its ordinary size. for those who don't know it, i suffered 3rd degree burns in my right lower leg more than 30 years ago, that almost left me crippled. at times,the leg gets tired and gets swollen, but usually, it lasts for no more than a day or 2. this time, the swelling didn't ease up, as i kept hoping it would.

late june, i finally decided to see dr jimmy. he muscled-tested my fasting blood sugar. at 131, it was much higher than is good for me. diabetes reared it's ugly head!

he instructed me to follow the diabetes protocol, and take all the listed supplements. he reminded me of my water and natural salt intake. and lastly, he told me to take the 6 siling labuyo with 2 saba bananas, some salt, and 3 glasses of water, 3 times a day.

i immediately followed all his instructions, except for the siling labuyo. my problem with that isn't how hot it gets. i can handle that fine. (note: i found out that drinking water immediately after eating the silis is a no-no. the water just moves the spiciness all over my mouth. i wait about 10 mins before i drink the water.) my problem is with the taiwanese labuyos. the native kind is just as spicy, but about a third the size of the taiwanese variety, and has a thinner skin. the taiwanese kind is thick-skinned and tastes like plastic. everytime i put the minced labuyos in my mouth, i cringe. so, i cheat again. instead of 3 times a day, i'm good for 2 times.

anyway, my right leg was still swollen. then, on my birthday, i went to renew my license (i barely passed the eye examinations!), when i tripped on the driveway of the land transportation office. i hit the ground with both knees, though i was able to cushion my fall with my left middle finger nail (which broke) and my right hand. there were no scratches on my knees, so, no big deal. i still got my license renewed.

a couple of days later, my left knee felt good again, but my right knee had swelled up too, and the swelling went down to my already swollen ankle. i let it be for another 2 days. then, i gave up.

cris called for an appointment with dr jimmy, but his schedule was full. as he sometimes did, he simply did long-distance muscle-testing on me.

the next day, yesterday, the family had just come from a chinese lunch on timog ave, courtesy of ponch, when dr jimmy's assistant, annie, called me on my mobile. i'm driving and she tells me, "dr jimmy says you have 2 blood clots in your lower right leg, 1 on your left leg, 1 at the top of your brain, and 1 at the back of your brain. and you also have a leaky heart valve. you need some new supplements." because i'm some cool dude, i didn't lose control of the van. i simply changed courses and headed back to dr jimmy's.

he was in consultation with a new patient, but he graciously stepped out to see cris and me. he confirmed what annie said over the phone, and added that the treatment with the new supplements would take 15 weeks, and gave me the dosages for each supplement. plus, the admonition to drink plenty of water and eat my daily ration of siling labuyo.

i went home. i did my internet research on blood clots and leaky valves, and learned all those wonderful new words that easily bring fear into the hearts (no pun intended) of ordinary mortals. now i know why my leg is swollen (and it's not just diabetes); why i sometimes run out of breath going up to the 3/f of our temporary apartment dwelling place; why i seem to be gaining weight despite my almost vegetarian diet; why i need frequent rests/naps during the day. good to know.

so, here i am again, back in full protocol mode; 3 in fact, 1 for diabetes, 1 for the retinopathy, and 1 for the heart problems. making sure i stick to my diet, though i still eat some things i shouldn’t, but i'm very conscious again that this is cheating, and it ain't good.

the title of this update is "here we go again", because you have been, and will always be, with me on the journey. we went through the cancer crises together, and Inshallah, we will get through this problem too.

and that's still life as benjie, having a midnight snack of my 3rd fix for the day of saba and taiwanese siling labuyo (i still can't stand that plastic taste!)

a year's new lease on life

(intro: i had just decided i had more things to add to this blog, so to refresh my memory, i looked at my file of old blogs and to my surprise, i found this old, unposted update. it should have been posted about 26 april 2010, the 1st anniversary of my radical nephrectomy, but somehow, it didn't. and it should.)

it sure's feels good to be alive instead of pushing up grass from a hole in the ground. whatever problems we face, however difficult your lives are, alive is still better than it's alternative.

if you don't think so, you felt death's cold breath on your nape as he comes calling. you haven't tried looking beyond a month's time and seeing nothing but darkness. you haven't held your spouse or your youngest (o r eldest, whatever) child, and thought that it might be the last time. you haven't woken up to a gentle sunrise, thankful that you're still there to see it. you ought to try it sometime. you'll gain a whole new perspective.

i'll admit i still have days when i get depressed, but doesn't everyone? it sneaks up on me and i begin to wonder whether i, and everyone else, wouldn't be better off if i weren't around.

and then i remember how scared i was just a year ago, when i learned i had renal cancer, and more so when it was said to have metastasized to my left lung and my right arm. talk about being afraid. how i prayed then - masses, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, service to the church whenever called upon, and more prayers every time i was alone and wasn't doing anything. how hard i worked at my healing protocol, sticking religiously to my diet, exercising even when i felt tired and just wanted to sleep, eating my raw pork pancreas and my raw beef liver.

i remember several friends and friends of friends who suffered their own journeys of illness, treatments, prayers, and are no longer among us. and those who struggled and are still struggling, but thankful to wake up in the mornings. some of them were mentioned in the healing prayers request section of this blog.

and i remember the gift of life i received from our Lord, along with the gifts of courage, hope, and love of family and friends. and i remember the joy of feeling the sun in my face, the cool evening breeze. i am glad to feel comfort n the pleasant company of friends. i revel in the service i am able to give my church and my God.

and i know i still like alive better than not alive. oh, i long for the company of my Creator, no doubt, but as long as He lets me live, i will be thankful. bad days are temporary, they will pass. i will not let them define my life.

in gratitude for the gift of the past year, i must acknowledge the support and devotion of those who, aside from the Lord, made the year possible.

• Cris, for always being there, never showing the slightest sign of faltering in her support; from the day i first felt pain, to the time we received news about the biopsy, to deciding about the treatment we would use, and through everyday that she had to help me with my protocol. when the oncologist mentioned the p248k/month medication, she bravely told to me that we could probably raise the money if we were sure the medicine would help. what a faithful and pretty liar my wife can be when she needs to be, though not a very convincing one.
• the mother and daughter tandem of Melds and Erica, for patiently preparing my raw pancreas and liver, vegetable salad, brown rice, blanched veggies, fresh fruit juices, and brewed coffee; constantly reminding me to eat properly; even preparing my baon when i have to have my meals outside.
• Ponch, Christo, Mikey, Jerome, Jeremiah, and Anne for just by being there, laughing and horsing around, at times even disappointing and angering me. the good times and the bad were all privileges of life.
• my vast family of brothers, in-laws, cousins, and aunts who provide food supplements, organic salt, walnuts, almonds, and pistachios, encouraging words of support, and valuable prayers.
• my friends who help out in countless ways from introducing me to alternative medicine, sending email that lift me up and cheer me on in the struggle, to gifts of kesong puti and buko pie and needed funds, to requests for blog updates that encourage me to share my journey.
• to my doctors in makati med who provided the first line of cure; even my oncologist had a part to play in the selection of my treatment.
• to dr dy-liacco for his protocol and patient consultations and advice; to dr bernardo for encouragement in using alternative medicine and showing new possibilities of healing medicine; and to annie, dr dy-liacco's assistant for her openness and willingness to help out.

i can't thank you all by name (i might use up my entire google allotment), but you know who you are, and you know how valuable your being with us on this journey has been. don't be too shy or too humble to acknowledge your contributions to my being here today. it would have been much more difficult without you.

so to all, my deepest gratitude for this extension of my life. i'll try to be worthy of your concern and active participation.

and that's life as benjie today, striving to live up to the value of family and friends.