Ode to Kilimanjaro

Today we have something a little different for you on the blog.  John Piears, one of our volunteers and fundraisers, has recently returned from climbing Kilimanjaro to raise money for Yes to Life. He chose to write about his experience in the form of the following poem.

Fundraising is the life-blood of a charity like Yes to Life and enables us to keep supporting the growing numbers of people coming to us for help with Integrative Medicine. If you would like to do some fundraising for us, however big or small, your help will mean a great deal and can make a real difference to lives of people facing the most desperate of situations. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you would like to discuss any ideas.

ODE TO KILIMANJARO

An uphill struggle to a barren summit...

Shall I book it? Too late, I've done it!

I'm going to climb a mountain, the almighty Kili 

Not sure if I'm brave or just being silly!

We head to the airport with a bag full of kit 

Waterproofs, sun hats and fleecy mits 

We're prepared for all weathers as we take to the air 

With nine hours of flying before we get there

An overnight flight with hardly any sleep 

Does little to prepare us for our impending feat 

But we check into a lodge and enjoy a few beers 

As we settle our nerves and share our fears

There's 15 in the group, with Phil the trek leader 

And a doctor too, I hope I don't need her!

All lovely people with their own personal story 

All hoping to get that moment of glory

A good night's sleep and we're off to the start 

Already I can feel the beat of my heart 

It's a drizzly beginning as we head into the woods 

But the rain soon leaves, no need for a hood

We trek up through the forest at a pace like a snail 

Too quick and the guides "Pole pole" would hail 

It's better to acclimatise if we all go slow 

Frustrating at first but worth it we know

We reach our first camp a thousand metres up 

That's a mountain at home but here no such luck 

Our tents are all ready and we're greeted with songs 

From the porters who carry our camp all along

A hearty meal then it's off to bed

An early start, "Don't be late!" Phil said!

Already the air is harder to breathe

As the oxygen levels start to recede

We tuck into breakfast after a restless sleep 

Downing coffee and porridge then we're up on our feet 

As we head to camp Shira, it's a steep climb today 

We're all exhausted by the end of the day

Now nearly 4000 metres and the views are amazing 

With beautiful dark skies that are great for star gazing 

The forests are gone, replaced with bushes and rocks 

And the dust gets everywhere, not just in our socks!

We measure our oxygen and heart rates as well 

As the toll from the climb begins to tell 

Headaches and nausea have started for some 

And nosebleeds as well are about to come

Day three arrives, we know the routine

Breakfast, fill the water, apply the sun cream 

A stretching session gets our muscles all powered 

Then we head off for lunch at Lava Tower

We're really high now, nearly level with Mt Blanc 

And the terrain's far more open, the bushes all gone 

Replaced with black rocks all made of lava 

From volcanic explosions erupting like cava

We descend to camp three for much needed rest 

'Climb high, sleep low' is the plan that works best 

A baby wipe bath and wash of the feet 

Then off to the mess tent for something to eat

Day four arrives, it's a big one today

An eleven hour trek before our next stay 

Our first challenge of the day, the Barranco wall 

One foot wrong and it's a long way to fall

An exhausting climb with lots of false summits 

But we make it to the top, thank God we've done it!

A group jump photo then we march off again 

Not so steep now much flatter terrain

Then the climb picks up as we head to camp four 

The high camp, after which there are no more 

We sort out our thermals, night torches and gloves 

As we get ready for the part we'll hate or love

It's 1am, very cold and dark

This certainly won't be a walk in the park!

Five hours of climbing before the sun rises 

Head down, small steps, just think of the prizes!

We're struggling to breathe as the air gets thinner 

And some people are stopping to bring up their dinner!

Headaches and heartaches bring tears for some 

As batteries run low and emotions overrun

Then finally the sun appears in the East 

And we bathe in its warmth, what a feast! 

It's a beautiful sight as we reach the crater rim 

The sense of relief finally begins

We're at Stella Point now, not far from the summit 

A gentle climb and then we've done it 

We solider on, weary and tired 

As we continue on up, higher and higher

Then the end is in sight, the infamous sign 

At the top of the mountain a sight so fine 

The last hundred yards and we touch the top 

To answer the question, would we make it or not?

We all take photos and savour the views

Ready to share our fantastic news

But we don't hang around, the air's cold and thin 

And we've another six hours trek to fit in

It's all downhill as we slide down the scree 

Making very fast progress, only stopping for a pee!

We quickly descend and the air gets thicker 

As we breathe in more oxygen we'll no longer get sicker

Just one more camp then the end is our goal 

As we stride on downhill making use of our poles 

We're all in good spirits but weathered and worn 

Some of our kit battered and torn

Then we reach the finish, our mission complete 

To conquer the mountain we all came to meet 

A mountain so tall you won't find another 

Standing proudly alone, she has no big brother

A mountain that became our friend and our foe

Testing our resolve with its beauty on show 

A huge personal challenge that each of us set 

And an experience I'm sure we'll never forget

A Pacifist’s Guide to the War on Cancer-The Yes to Life review!

A Pacifist’s Guide to the War on Cancer – book by Bryony Kimmings and Brian Lobel, music Tom Parkinson.

Dorfman Theatre, opened 19th October.

While it’s certainly not the taboo subject it was a few years ago, it still requires a stretch of the imagination to think of cancer as a great subject for a musical. But with A Pacifist’s Guide to the War on Cancer, Bryony Kimmings has pulled off a coup. Kimmings declares on her website that she is ‘inspired by the taboos, stigmas, anomalies and social injustices around her’ and ‘creates mind-blowing, multi-platform art works to provoke change.’ And she doesn’t pull her punches. All the serious and painful and raw stuff is there on stage at the Dorfman Theatre on the South Bank, but there is irreverence, anger, some good songs, dancing glittery mutant cancers and plenty of laughs too.
 

In this co-production with Complicite Associates, and in association with HOME, Manchester, the Pacifist’s Guide is set in one of those chilly, antiseptic hospital lobbies that we’ve all experienced. There are numerous pairs of swing doors leading from this space – and above each sits a big illuminated ‘EXIT’ sign. Of course all of the cancer patients we meet want to be out of there, but there’s no exit from the reality that each one of them has a cancer diagnosis. One character is in denial about her ovarian cancer, another with lung cancer wants to make amends with his estranged daughter, a third has financial worries and is afraid to tell his employers the truth about his absence from work and a fourth faces the possibility of passing on to her baby her own genetic predisposition to developing cancer. At the centre of this, Emma has a young baby undergoing tests. We follow her journey and struggle through to the searingly painful moment when she accepts the diagnosis.

This could have been the end of the show, but we slip into another gear for the final sequence. As part of this finale. members of the cast name friends and family members who have been diagnosed with cancer, or who have died. Then the audience is invited to do the same. Unexpectedly for such a very British institution, it only takes a couple of seconds for people to start offering up a litany of loved ones’ names. Way beyond poignancy, this simple device has the powerful impact of driving home just how widespread the disease is, that most of us will encounter cancer at some point during our lives and that we will need to find our own ways of dealing with it.

Why did you get cancer?

Yes To Life chairman and founder Robin Daly talks about his experience of cancer care in the UK and the lack of an integrative approach.

I am a father of someone who had cancer. My daughter, Bryony, died in 2004 when she was 23 after suffering from three highly malignant cancers, starting from when she was nine years old. She is the inspiration for Yes to Life which has helped thousands of people who want to pursue non-conventional approaches which are not currently available on the NHS. We are part of a very large movement, driven by cancer sufferers and their friends and family members, who want to see change.

When Bryony died, we had only just started looking into how alternative therapies and nutritional support might be able to help her. At that time, further conventional treatments including chemotherapy and radiotherapy would have done her more harm than good. The NHS did not have anything to offer, so we started looking at all the alternatives available.  What we found was that there were plenty of options out there, but it was almost impossible to find the really relevant and good quality information amongst the daunting quantity now on the internet. As private medicine, they also were not free.

Sadly, Bryony was not able to benefit. Twelve years after her death, we try to fill that gap for people who want to take a more holistic approach to their cancer care and we provide support, information and in some cases, financial assistance. I have to say that I am enormously disappointed that so little seems to have changed in the NHS when it comes to Integrative Oncology. very few doctors seem ever to ask the question, ‘why did you get cancer?’

Yes, patient demand means that many oncology centres have bolted on complementary therapy centres – typically run by volunteers – which may offer therapies such as massage, mindfulness meditation and acupuncture, but there is no national requirement for this. The Royal London Hospital for Integrated Medicine, part of the University College London Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust, is one of only three NHS centres in the country that takes a broader approach to patient care.

Worryingly, we even seem to have gone backwards when it comes to patent choice and the provision of some therapies. Some Clinical Commissioning Groups now restrict funding for homeopathic treatment. Strong pressure from ‘science-based medicine only’ campaigners has meant that there is a growing reluctance for NHS commissioners to fund anything which can’t be backed up by gold standard clinical trials – appropriate for a new potentially harmful drug but surely not in the case of treatments which are low cost, unprofitable, and which have been used successfully and safely, in some cases for thousands of years. There seems to be a whipped-up sense of grievance against practitioners who make no claims and can certainly do no harm but may be able to help. The requirement for incontrovertible evidence needs to be proportional to the possible downside, and to to respect patient choice wherever possible. Otherwise, we inevitably give the monopoly to wealthy drug companies.

I also find it extraordinary that most cancer patients in the NHS receive little or no help when it comes to lifestyle changes. Advice about diet, exclusively given by pressed-for-time dieticians who are medically qualified, seems to be focused on how very ill people can avoid losing weight by consuming large quantities of sugar and carbohydrates. No attention is paid to nutritional therapy to boost damaged immune systems and improve energy levels. Most cancer patients never even receive exercise advice from a professional. You would think that these things would be basic parts of the care package, but not at all.

No one is saying that conventional treatments should be dismissed – if you are in an acute situation surgery, chemotherapy or radiation can be a good choice. But Integrative Medicine has an important role in helping people stay well during treatment, recover more quickly and avoid relapses.

Pomegranate & Feta Quinoa

For a high protein, wheat-free meal quinoa is a versatile dish which blends beautifully with vegetables. It has a higher protein content than grains and is gluten free. Jenny Phillips specialises in supporting people with cancer through nutrition and has given us a delicious recipe this month!

The pomegranate adds a flash of colour and a boost of phytonutrients for immune health. If you are dairy-free simply do not add the feta.

1 red onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic,
crushed
1 yellow pepper, sliced
1 can chickpeas,
drained & rinsed
1 tsp cumin
Juice & zest of ½ lemon
2 tbsp olive oil
150g quinoa
380ml water
Seeds of half a
pomegranate
120g feta
Seasoning

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees
2. Add the vegetables to a baking dish, add the seeds, cumin, lemon and oil. Roast for 30 minutes and remove from the oven
3. Meanwhile make the quinoa: add the quinoa and water to a pan. Season. Bring to the boil and simmer for 15 minutes then remove from the heat.
4. Stir the quinoa into the chick peas and check the seasoning.
5. Top with the pomegranate seeds and crumbled feta.

Combining approaches for lung cancer

Today's blog is from Suzanne*,66, from Cornwall who writes about her experiences putting together a integrative plan following her diagnosis with Lung Cancer in 2012.

When I was first told I had cancer my heart sunk like a stone. This information was given to me by GP who also told me I could cough, haemorrhage and die (!) I met a friend and we went straight to the pub for a glass of wine, followed by shock and tears.

I had no symptoms prior to coughing up blood, but soon developed excess sputum and coughing, although no breathlessness. Lung cancer was confirmed with a CT scan, MRI scan and bronchoscopy, all arranged at two weekly intervals and I was finally diagnosed in June 2012.

The consultant thought the tumour could be removed with surgery; I was thrilled and saw this as a cure. I couldn’t wait for the operation which happened in August 2012 but unfortunately the thoracotomy failed as I had cancerous nodules.

An invitation to share your life changing stories

Today's post is from Delyth, co-founder of an app we love called 'This Changed Me' - a space for people to share anything that has inspired change in their lives. Delyth got in touch with Yes to Life following her own experience with cancer in her family and would like to share the story of how this changed her life too.

It was nearly two years ago that my mum was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, to say that we were shocked is an understatement. I felt my world dissolve under my feet, I allowed the terror to come in and had a couple of complete melt downs. I remember seeing mum for the first time after we received the diagnosis and weeping on her shoulder, she stroked my hair.  I was very much her child and feeling like a child in that moment, not the 40 year old I was at that time.

Mum was amazing and still is.

The way she dealt with the diagnosis and the treatment was head on; her positivity and belief throughout was inspirational. Mum is a glass half full woman. She is incredibly positive and her mindset was strong and infallible even in dark moments.

The way I dealt with this was immediately to search for information – WHAT CAN WE DO to encourage the best outcome. I discovered that there was a lot that we could do – an incredible amount – this was empowering and gave us hope. What I uncovered was life changing in terms of how we managed mum’s treatment and how we are now.

Feel-good Treats Declared by Cancer Survivors!

Today's blog is from Anjana Nathwani, the founder of Athena Business Psychologists, who talks about the importance of treats for people living with cancer and beyond.

Anjana Nathwani

As a two-time survivor of cancer, I believe it is important to treat oneself! Emotional well-being is an important part of the healing process and treats have that feel-good factor, which reminds us that Life is a Luxury!

I am now working with people who have been through the cancer experience and have returned to work.  I have spoken with 100 plus people on what they consider is a treat!  Overwhelmingly most people commented that what they once took for granted they now consider a valuable treat.  I was astonished and yet agreed.  And these are my top five treats:

#Music - this was number one on everyone’s list.  Time to wind down and chill with favourite tunes and melodies.  15 minutes every evening to soothe the mind and forget the happenings of the day! This process of emptying with music allows the brain to recharge.