Saturday 2 May 2020

SATURDAY SESSIONS: Final episode!





What are MRI and MRA Scans?



McKiernan has already arranged for me to jump the queue so I can get the scan done. I won't be needing any contrast dye this time, he says, but I should drink as much water as I can before I'm called.
I undress in a cubicle and when I emerge wearing a robe, the radiologist asks me if I have any metal implants such as a pacemaker or whatever and maybe because I haven't eaten for a while or with all the mixed emotions of the afternoon and all those blank white walls all around me, I'm feeling, I'm feeling a bit light-headed and an instantaneous, intuitive flash in my mind tells me that I've already died, I actually died on Lucy's sofa that time and the scene is not at all as warm and welcoming as the NDE I had earlier today but more like a vast, anonymous, empty, echoing airport where you're given a white robe to wear as a shroud for your one-way flight to nowhere.
I lie on the table and slide back and forth in the large doughnut machine as the X-ray tubes rotate around me, buzzing and clicking away.
I get dressed, walk upstairs and wait for the results. McKiernan would text me personally when he was ready. I'm still in a bit of a daze, sitting there, wondering about Cathy. I should have died on Lucy's sofa. It would have been easier for everybody, including me. I should have been truthful. Now she'll never trust me again. Ever. Will it drive a wedge between us? Has it already done so? Maybe it's all for the best. The Universe has decided it would be easier for us both to go our own ways in the circumstances. Why should Cathy have to suffer too? Why should she have to see me wither away and die?  This was the best option of all. Ha, now I don't care anymore. Let the axe fall where it may. But what if McKiernan tries to persuade me? Maybe it's operable after all. Pancreatic cancer? I don't think so. What of it? I don't care anymore. Of course, Cathy would certainly try to twist my arm. And then? Then I'd refuse and she'd walk out on me for good. Good. The sooner she can get on with her life the better. And Maria? Jason? What about them? Australia!  I haven't got the price of a one-way ticket on my account, much less return. Maybe I wouldn't need to return. Does it matter where I die?  Should I try to reach them? Tell them I'm dying?  Who's that going to help? Nobody. Least of all, them. Yes, I know what I'll do. I'll write them a letter. A long letter. To be posted only after my ashes are scattered. Yeah, but who'll scatter them?  Cathy? Jason?  If he ever comes home. Where will I leave them for him? I'm sure the undertaker will know. I'm sure they've seen this kind of thing before. Yeah, I'll negotiate a small fee to leave the ashes there at the undertaker's for safekeeping until Jason and Maria get home to scatter them in the sea. OK. Good. That's settled. Do I have enough money for the funeral? Maybe I should take out a personal loan from the bank. Long-term. Ha-ha! That would be a good one. Terms and conditions apply.
Text!  It's McKiernan!  I take a deep breath and stand. My executioner awaits in his office. I am beyond caring now. 
There's the office door. Open it. No, knock first. Knock.
Wait! Stop! The Lemurians! Have I learned nothing? What did Xendo say?  TV.  Yes!  TV!  Transformational Vibration! Like switching the TV channel, you shift into the new parallel reality based on your transformational vibration of that moment. You choose your future. That's how you create your own reality! That's how you choose it! Joy! Not fear! Always choose joy and joy will choose you! That's what Solari said. Well, I'm choosing joy! For Jason, Maria, Cathy and for me. That's what I'm doing right now. If I can only just stop crying. I haven't even got a bloody tissue. I can't go into the office like this. Maybe find a toilet somewhere. No. Forget that. You're here now. Go for it. Go. Deep breath.  Remember, no matter what he says, you will determine the outcome. You will create your own reality! Nothing matters any more in any case! Nothing matters. Not a thing.  Remember what Zol said: Shift to the reality you want, or you will keep getting the reality you don't want. 
I open the door to McKiernan's office. Cathy is there!  She runs to embrace me, laughing through her tears. McKiernan is standing at his desk grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head in disbelief.
'It's a miracle, Jordan!' she cries, 'A miracle!'
'The scan showed no trace of the tumour,' concurs McKiernan.  'But I might just ask you to come back sometime later for a virtual endoscopy. Just a formality.  It's non-invasive. It will give us a 3-D CT image of your insides just to be sure, but to all intents and purposes, you are now officially cancer-free!'
'It's a miracle, Doctor!' exclaimed Cathy. 'A miracle!'
The doctor bit his lip, nodding reluctantly.
'Well, Doctor,' I said, half-laughing, half-crying, trying to catch my breath to speak, 'as Einstein put it, either you believe everything in life is a miracle, or you believe nothing in life is a miracle!'
I shook his hand.
'Dr McKiernan, you're a gentleman and a scholar. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for being both.'
'A doctor is only as good as his patient, Jordan. Wasn't it Hippocrates who said that? You did all the work. The patient always does. We are just the facilitators.'
'Could I ask you one last question, Doctor? '
'Of course.'
'Do doctors always have to give their patients a prognosis?'
'It's their moral and clinical duty to the patient, Jordan. A prognosis is given, based on all the empirical evidence available to them. We have a duty to tell the patient what we know. '
'I understand that. But do you not also have a duty to tell your patient what you don't know? '
'I'm sorry. I don't understand what you mean.'
'Your moral and clinical duty is confined to what you know, isn't it?'
'Yes. I suppose so.'
'But what about what you don't know?'
'You're referring to spontaneous remissions. Like your own now, I presume?'
'Could that moral and clinical duty not include offering to pass the ball? When your empirical evidence reveals to you that the patient's days are numbered? After all, the empirical evidence doesn't include what you don't know, does it?'
He sighed.
'You said it yourself just now. You are only the facilitator.  It's the patient who does the healing. Why do some patients heal and others don't? '
'Everybody's biology is different, Jordan. Some may have other underlying conditions or a compromised immune system.  To answer your question simply, some people are stronger than others. '
'The same can be said of their belief. Belief becomes biology, isn't that also true?  Why do some people respond to treatment and others don't?'
'You believe it's all placebo, don't you?'
'Placebo, nocebo. Yes I do.'
'Ah yes, nocebo. We in the medical profession are very much aware of the nocebo effect, I assure you.  But nevertheless, it's our responsibility to ensure that our patients are prepared for the worst. To stretch your metaphor a little, most of the patients would drop the ball if we passed it to them. They wouldn't know what to do with it. And then we're back to the problem of belief. We are scientists, Jordan, not mystics. If all the empirical evidence suggests that the patient has a terminal illness, that evidence determines our prognosis. How can we expect the patient to believe in the possibility of recovery if we don't believe in it ourselves?'
'The patient might cope if he were taught how to cope, if he were encouraged to cope with his illness from the outset, rather than being a passive receiver. He wouldn't drop the ball if he knew how to play.'
'As I say, Jordan, most patients prefer to be spectators, passive receivers of treatment, to use your own expression. They don't want to have to run with the ball. They'd prefer to be spectators rather than assume responsibility for their own lives.'
'But isn't it about the energy field, Doctor?  I suppose, all I'm trying to say - in my excitement, ha-ha! -  is that if doctors knew about the energy field and informed their patients about it, people would become more self-empowered. You don't have to be a mystic to understand the energy field. Isn't that where all chronic illnesses begin? And end?'
'The energy-field?  Ah. Simple as that, hm?'
'Maybe. And then there's the energy. Where do we get energy from? Food, for example.  We take energy from the earth in the form of food. You quoted Hippocrates earlier; was it not he who said, let food be thy medicine, medicine thy food? The father of medicine himself!  Why, then, for example, is the food so toxic in this and every other hospital? Why aren't nutritious hospital diets customised to meet the patient's medical needs? Why do doctors, who take the Hippocratic Oath, not demand health-warnings on junk-food?  Why don't they recommend banning herbicides and pesticides? Why don't they speak out against industrial farming using antibiotics and hormones to fatten cattle?  Did you know that there are at least ten thousand toxic chemicals in circulation in our food industry?... Oh!... I'm... sorry, Doctor!... I'm so sorry!...I'm losing the run of myself... It's been such a roller-coaster of a day!... '
'I'll take you home, love,' said Cathy, squeezing my hand.  'You need to rest. And then we need to celebrate!'
'Yes. By all means, you must rest, Jordan. And, of course, celebrate! And I wish you two all the happiness you deserve! But before you go, Jordan, and to answer your question, I hear what you're saying.  Please understand, however, that we're doctors. Doctors. There is always the danger that we might be offering the patient false hope without any evidence whatsoever, and that just make matters worse for everybody.'
'Ah, evidence. But surely it's only false hope to those who don't believe in miracles? Einstein was a scientist; as a scientist, he believed in evidence. But he also believed that everything in life was a miracle. Didn't he?'
I put my arms out and hugged him. It took him by surprise. Then Cathy joined in. If anybody had walked into the consultation room at that moment, they'd have seen a doctor, a nurse and a patient, all locked in a hug like penguins. 
'I want to thank you, Dr McKiernan, for having the wisdom to allow me not to believe your prognosis. '
'How could you tell?'
'What, that you and I are so alike?'    
                                                                          *
The following day I get on the bus to Lucy's and realise that a spontaneous way to feel the joy of being and get my endorphins flowing is simply to imagine that six months from now I'd be dead if I'd chosen to believe McKiernan's prognosis.  I'll actually be around for a while yet to experience all those little moments of life that play out before me, moment by moment. What a joy!  This is what Zol was saying. We can choose to feel great, even if we're up to our necks in shit. Or words to that effect. 
I look at the ears of the passengers in front of me and remember having read somewhere that everybody's ears are unique, every ear that has ever existed and ever will exist, is unique. In fact, everything, everything that has ever existed is unique.  And what a miracle it is that everything is changing, shifting, on the move, all the time, everything is so intricate, so dynamic, so unique!
Lucy listens enraptured as I tell her the whole story about the cancer. 
She sees immediately that I'd been carrying this burden of mine throughout many lifetimes since the days of Atlantis. It would have caused me to suffer and die without getting old again, in countless manifestations of my existence. 
'But why do we do that, Lucy? Why do we continue to punish ourselves for unresolved issues of so long ago?'
'Punish is the wrong word, Jordan. We are the sole authorities of our lives. When we abdicate responsibility, there are always consequences. Stepping out of line is a better phrase to use here.'  
'Or out of alignment, as the Lemurians put it.'
'Out of alignment with ourselves, our true nature, who we really are. It would seem that between lives, part of our mission is to choose to return again and again to encounter a similar pattern of behaviour at some point in our lives. Each lifetime, we are challenged to overcome the challenge, to get it right, to step back into alignment. But of course, most of us forget the mission. Or I should say, we forget to discover what the mission is.' 
'To redress the balance?'
'Well, yes. Not forgetting to enjoy the thrill of experience. If you can! That's what I believe anyway.'
'That's what they were saying in Lemuria. To metabolise experience from every possible perspective as we enter the illusion of duality, experiencing, interfacing with the Universe itself, all the universes, our very own co-creation, in all their magnificence.'
'That's beautiful, Jordan. How well you remember it!  Isn't it so sad that most of us get caught up in the matrix, the 3D physical world of struggle, from lifetime to lifetime to lifetime. We just don't give ourselves a chance to get back into alignment.'
'And so we get sick.'
'When we die from a terminal disease like your cancer, we're throwing in the towel, we're saying to ourselves, no, we're not going to make it. Let's just pack up and go. The body gets tired of trying to fix things on its own. It won't get out of the driving seat and let the totality take over and sort things out. You carried that burden of cognitive dissonance, anger, resentment and betrayal of your true self again and again and again throughout the millennia!  How mad is that?'
'We should all live to be a thousand, like the Lemurians! I know it takes no time to know who we really are, but for guys like me it might take a millennium, especially if I don't have a crisis like this to shock me into it! Yesterday, I had only six months to live. The odds are today that I might have six years to live, sixteen even, maybe even sixty, ha-ha!  Even half of that would be amazing! You know something, Lucy? I feel so great now about life that I really don't mind what happens anymore!'
'Ha-ha! That's exactly what Krishnamurti said!  In one of his talks, he told the audience he'd reveal his secret. Of course, everybody was all agog at the edge of their seats, waiting for this precious piece of wisdom, some of them having followed him for thirty years or more. And you know what he said?  My secret, he told them, is that I don't mind what happens!'
'I love it! The Lemurians were right. We're already in Paradise. It's just that we don't know it! And it's true, Lucy, it's true! I don't mind! Really! I don't mind what happens!'                                                                         



As Bugs Bunny used to say, "That's all, folks!"

Take care of yourself! Or as we say these days, Be kind to yourself!

"The Blossoms of the Apricot" is dedicated to my grandson, Jordan, who will be THREE on Monday.  May the fourth be with him!



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The obstacle is (in) the way.