In my previous blog, just yesterday, I said some things.

It was called Perceptions.

Some people misunderstood some of it.

Three things in particular.

The First was about the way cancer is treated.

I said that I did not choose the sordid religious ritual to be sliced and diced and nuked in an oversized microwave oven.

I know I am fortunate.

Invasive Tubular Carcinoma is not a fast growing cancer.

Often it is missed, because it hides for years.

And when it is spotted, it is a little late, already advanced.

I was fortunate.

I found it early.

But that’s not why I did not opt for the mastectomy and the chemotherapy and the radiation.

I chose a different path, because I honestly believe that quality of life is better than quantity.

You may think that’s easy for me to say, I have quality of life, but I did not make that decision yesterday, I made it two years ago when I had no idea what today would look like.

The only thing I knew was that the standard treatment that is offered by the Medical Industry is not one that offers quality of life.

The surgery is a shock to your system.

And most often, when you cut cancer, it spreads.

The chemo and radiation?

It is poison.

It’s like dropping a nuclear ☢️ bomb on a little village to eradicate a nest of mice 🐁.

It destroys the village and everything in the village and seven other villages in the vicinity.

I have immense respect for you if you went through that.

Or if someone close to you had to go through that.

Or is going through it.

I don’t mean to disrespect you.

I’m just sharing my journey and experience.

It is not connected to your journey and it does not say anything about you.

It is a tough road.

To choose the path of Standard Medical Industry Cancer Treatment.


Filled with uncertainty.

With very few promises.

I remember reading, two years ago, if a person is diagnosed with cancer and they are treated the Standard way of the Medical Industry and they survive 2 years, they are alive for two years after diagnosis and the start of treatment, they are considered a success.

I remember asking my doctor: so if I don’t take your treatment, how long do I have?

I remember him saying: I don’t know. Maybe 2 years, maybe 5 years, maybe 15 years. But I know if you do nothing this will get worse and however long you have, the end will be hard.

I remember thinking: well, the end will be hard, perhaps the little path to that end may be wonderful.

And: I’m not going to do nothing. I’m just not going to do what you suggest I do.

Then, I didn’t know what that something else would be and it was hard to figure that out.

It took grit.

And faith.

I have expenses too.

I remember the doctor told us, the operation would cost about 25,000¥ and every chemo treatment will cost about 10,000¥. I would need 5 of those for a start.

I remember them telling me that I should know that I won’t be able to work, while in treatment.

“How long would that be?” I asked.

“Maybe a year. Maybe more. Maybe you won’t ever be able to go back to work.”

The loss of income isn’t ever calculated when we make the costing before we go into the Temple of Doom.

Sorry – it’s my funny picture. It helps me cope.

Taking the road I took also costs money.

We’ve spent about 230,000¥ on my treatment so far.

At first, quite a bundle and now about 10,000¥ every month.

But because I am healthy, I am able to work. I can teach my kids from Friday 6pm to Sunday 7pm and be tired from teaching one class after another for 12 hours on a Saturday and I am able to rest.

And every month when T and I sit down with the financial planning for the coming month, I am tempted to feel a little guilty. That it is too much – and my beautiful T senses it and he says to me: don’t be silly, look at you, you are here and healthy and well, that is nothing. We have life.

I have uncertainty too.

I don’t know if the treatment I chose will work.

Any better or worse than the treatment you chose.

But I do know that I am healthy, now, in this moment.

And that I have quality of life.

More than many many people are afforded.

That’s all I was trying to share with you yesterday.

My joy.

My relief.

My happiness that I can look back over the past 2 years and see my journey and be blown away by the amazing gift I have received.

And perhaps a little bit about how my ‘treatment’ (for no doctor would agree that I am being treated – the most they would do is say I have a protocol) is about more than a ketogenic diet, CTM treatments and some expensive supplements.

That I have discovered, that for me (and this doesn’t have to be true for you) there is a connection between our bodies and our spirit.

Dr Nasha Winters talks about this.

In her book “The Metabolic Approach to Cancer”. (You should read this if you are interested in knowing an alternative).

And my Chinese Traditional Doctor speaks about it too.

And my dear friend, Dr Hanli Rautenbach, who’ve been so kind to me in loving me from far away.

And for me – this is what I was hoping you would hear, yesterday – the healing comes in the healing of my being.

In a slow process, over the past two years, of facing me, seeing me and going into the deepest darkest chambers of my heart and seeing what I have been hiding there. Parts of me that I thought are ugly and unacceptable – the trolls and monsters in the dungeon.

But they are beautiful.

This is the healing.

And I can do more than accept them.

I can embrace them.

I can love all of me.

For this I am deeply grateful to my T, for he has not only been my lover and friend, he has been my counselor and advisor and spiritual guide, my Guru and Yogi Master, my priest, my healer.

That’s the second thing I wanted to share with you.

Regardless of whether you have cancer or not – we are healthier, healthiest, when we can come to love our self.

Love your self.

Love the ‘who’ of your ‘I am’, those are the words my counselor uses.

It is the turning point in my healing.

I know it.

And in time I will be able to show you.

The third thing I need to clear up, and it has to do with loving yourself: apparently it is not appropriate to talk about sex and sexuality. 😜😂😅

I do it anyway and with reason.

I love sex.

I’ve always loved sex.

I love the intimacy and the honesty of it.

For me it is a physical expression of an emotional and spiritual reality.

It is earth and wind, matter and spirit, in one intense place in one intense moment.

I love the release of having an orgasm.

As if my whole being is concentrated in one instant and all I am is in that one place and moment.

We’ve been together for almost three decades, my T and I, and in that time we must have had sex at least 7,000 times.


And instead of losing color or becoming bland or mundane it has just become more and more interesting and enjoyable and intense.

There are moments when things are hard and then we have less sex, because we struggle with our self, inside our self, but for the most part of our life together we share the exhilaration of sexual intimacy most days.

The past two years more often.

More intense.

Maybe it is my need to feel alive?

Maybe it is my deeper awareness that we have no idea if we will have tomorrow.

And who wants to miss out on something mind blowing if it is the last chance you’ll have?

And so I speak about this – not to embarrass you, or to be crude, but to tell you that it matters.

It is not a shameful thing.

It is not something to hide.

We all have it.

Or want to have it.

If that wasn’t true there won’t be any kids around.

But I do understand the offense I might give, by talking about it.

So openly.

As if it is like talking about the new dish I made for dinner.

For a long time, even though I enjoy it immensely and love losing myself in my lovers arms, feeling him, touching him, kissing him – I felt shame about it.

As if there is something wrong with me for enjoying it.

Or wanting it often.

And intensely.

As if I am weird for having orgasm upon orgasm and basking in the sun and light of the one who is adoring me.

As if it is dirty.

We hide the shameful dirty things.

We hide the things that make us less in the eyes of other people.

We don’t talk about the bad things we do.

Well – this is not a bad thing.

It is beautiful.


It is part of the ‘who’ of my ‘I am’.

And I love it.

You don’t have to love it. 😊

Sometimes we have experiences that rob us.

I know all about that too.

But I am not ashamed of me.

Not of any part of me.

I love me.

I love this about me.

And I love that, despite what I received almost two years ago, I can still love this about me and grab every opportunity to express this part of me.

I’ll be the dirty 80 year old woman who does it in the fitting room at Truworths or Edgars and walks out with a hot glow and sex-hair to have a coffee at Dulce’s.

I don’t swim, because I want to be skinny, I swim because I want to build stamina so I can keep up with my lover.

Who wants a skinny body that will never be ravished?

Perhaps we rob ourselves?

With all the moralistic nonsense we’ve come to believe?

With the hang-ups we’ve allowed to be hung around our necks or burned into our soul, like scarlet letters?

It is lovely to be loved.

It is wondrous to be the one that loves.

So go love.

Your self.

For all you are.

And go give.

Your self – the ‘who’ of your exquisite ‘I am’

To those you love.

The rest will be.

And you’ll be healthier and happier.

With all my love


PS: now I’ll be done writing for a while, in August it’s test time again, then I’ll let you know what’s up 🥰😍

Source: zukoing.wordpress.com

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