It was 2008; I was extremely unwell with persistent menopausal bleeding menopause.
The late David Gehue, healer and shake tent man, told me ‘If you believe you can do something, you can. You have to believe it to see it.’
I went to shake tents, took my problem to the spirits and trusted I would be guided.
The spirits told me I did not have cancer and offered me land medicines. These worked until I travelled and couldn’t store them.
David had me promise I’d see a doctor. Only that promise got me to the hospital; I had so much distrust in the system.
In emergency, I panted as they walked me to three rooms. Six nurses admonished me, ‘Slow your breathing.’
As I struggled not to faint as I walked I kept saying, ‘I can do this, I can make it.’
With my vital signs checked I was given a pill for anxiety!
‘I don’t need this. There are lots of things that cause shortness of breath,’ I said. I took the pill; I had bigger battles to fight and didn’t have strength for all.
Blood work revealed I was very ill so a specialist saw me after his office hours.
That’s when I heard the words that many dread: ‘You have two huge masses which are usually cancer. I don’t have the ability of the city operating room. You’d be better to go there.’
I was admitted for blood transfusions and tests. A CT scan showed two masses, one the size of a large tissue box and the other, larger.
I had to wait for a bed for the surgery; I was discharged.
Five days later I returned with massive bleeding. A locum doctor was in charge. He acted proud and cocky as he suggested a nurse examine me.
As she stepped forward, I rebelled. He hadn’t asked my permission.
‘No. I am not a teaching tool! I have a right to decide who touches me, and when.’
They left with the nurse returning shortly to apologize, acknowledging I was right: I could refuse. I know it is assault if care providers touch or treat without permission.
An hour later the doctor appeared, justifying his actions: ‘I work in a teaching hospital. We get used to showing residents.’
I was prepared to be labelled difficult or belligerent.
Those titles kept me alive as I lived David’s words of believing. I trusted the spirits were helping me to assert myself, to be strong in the face of blatant oppression.
I did not fear cancer; the spirits told me I didn’t have it. I had no feeling of cancer’s invasion and struggled to deny doctors’ fears and words becoming my life.
Repeatedly I faced coercive actions by those who control the health care system while I spoke, demanding respect, consideration, and exercising my right to refuse.
Instead of pain medication I used nature sounds CDs. Those sounds also kept me from hearing staff breaching confidentiality as they discussed my problems at the hall desk.
I continued to follow spirit direction, walked when I felt I could and as my body directed me to do to gain strength. I didn’t let staff fears become mine.
Before going to hospital, I had made a major decision: I avoided fearing or claiming cancer. I didn’t want the fear and pity of others; that’s negative energy. Three friends and my brother phoned me from Alberta, Ontario, and two distant Nova Scotia communities to remind me I was loved.
Six weeks after surgery, while still coping with major side effects of treatments I hadn’t been able to avoid, I got the surgery results.
‘It took a long time to get process the tissues. They did numerous and unusual tests on the tumours; the results show you have grade one cancer,’ the doctor said.
I let those words roll over and off my ears.
‘Chemotherapy and radiation will not make a difference,’ he added.
I thanked him, hung up the phone and danced -- I knew I was OK. I’d made it!
I was down 40 pounds, looked like a hollow-cheeked, grey, bag of bones and had my beliefs tested repeatedly but I was okay.
Doctors told me I had cancer but I don’t believe that. Tests have false positives, errors are made, and bioscience medicine is not always right.
I give cancer no space in my body today and thank David, who has joined the spirits, and the balance of the spirits daily for their intervention.
Maachestan, the Cree word for the annual spring river ice breakup, is happening all along the James Bay coast.



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