Death by CIPRO (or Thanks to Susan Turner and Bob Deering for Saving my Life on Jan 03, 2010

As far as I am able to report, somewhat limited due to being alternately unconscious or absent, I died several times last night.

It was neither pretty, nor heroic. I took a prescribed antibiotic med and followed it with a cookie that I had not previously eaten. These two joined forces in an attempt to steal my conscous mind and leave me afloat in a sea of elctronic flashes which bounced unknown signals across the cosmos findling me worth little except as a transmission device or something of the sort.

Suzi had gone to Wal-Mart, now the thrice weekly drill to pick up my pain and other meds. This is not a happy chore for Suzi, nor for me. Neither us like, enjoy, or do well on drugs and we prefer to avoid.

When Suzi returned from Wal-Mart I was still "OK."

But shortly afterwards, I began to get confused. I began to thrash around in my recliner and lost track of elementary things like date, time, my name, etc. And, of course, to scare Suzi half to death. Hmmmm.

Suzi called Dr. Bob Deering and they, together, quickly decided I was having a toxic reaction to CIPRO. But then what? You can call the poison control center... God Bless those folks, they do what they can but perhaps they just do not know how to research or perhaps their middle management and operations staff are not sufficiently trianed. Anyone who know poison control knows PC will refer you to emergency and who knows what will happen or how long it will take?

Suzi launched out on side effect research for Dr. Bob and time flew by.... I don't recall much of this entire episode which moved on and on into the night... my main recall having to do with thirst and greater thirst accompanied by what I thought might be huge bolts of lightening.

I due course it became evident that some of our favorite products - - - magnesium, basic minerals, and water are top drawer for detoxing CIPRO... so on through the night Cindy and Dr. Br. Bob encourage Suzi to keep me awash in water and magnesium and basic minerals.

All through the night Suzi is reassuring me that I will make it whilst I, in some uncomprehending dream state see the distant lightening; hear the gathering thunder, and try to grasp an interpertation of the ill formed shapes that try to gather round me.

Hours go by. My body goes stiff and sore in my recliner. I want up but things conspire to prevent me from rising.

Between times there are voices... the professionals whose only stance seems to be that death is the logical outcome versus the opposition or life supporting crowd. The life supporters uniformy feel that if you give the body some good food things will work out.

Suzi and I have always felt if you let your body have real food instead of a shopping cart full of high fructose corn syrup, MSG,and such, that you can indeed win.

Dawn came slowly. The thunder drawing into the distance with reluctance; the lightening tamping back with hesitation; my mind questioning my own location

Monday, was a long, long day during which I slept fitfully. Glad to find my self alive.

Dr Bob, Cindy. Suzi. Please accept my thanks for jerking me back from the dark edge.

Bob and Cindy, life supporting people are there for you at:

Home Bio-Emotional Neutralization Betar Intensives Phone Sessions Testimonials About us Contact LinksSPIRIT EMERGENCE OF TAOS • Phone: (575) 751-7050 • info@spiritemergenceoftaos.com

Terry Turner
A Living Curmudgeon !!!

Cancer relief with WLA 132 and, the black salve, Aloe Mystery

Dear friends and family,

Just a brief update to let you know that on Monday I had a mega dose of radiation, a week's worth, very excessive mega blast to try to control the pain in my left femur/pelvic area. This continuous pain is the pain that makes it nearly impossible for me to sit, stand, walk, or move or at. I can lie still and flat with some success, but not much.

I requires all the physical and mental strength that Suzi and I can muster to do the most elementary things, such as to get out of bed and try to make it to the bathroom before diarrhea overpowers me... very unpleasant, at best and from a physical standpoint I can only say thanks, for some of us, to my genetic poll which allows me the extra physical strength to leverage myself along on crutches and walker.

Suzi, a very petite gal and the light of my life as you know, from some deep resources, gets the strength to help me propel myself upward and makes the difference as to whether I am be somewhat functional or a bed cabbage.

Suzi, now attends all aspects of the business, housekeeping, cooking, bed issues, toilet issues and all billing and shipping and, I assure you is deserving of the greatest empathy and respect for the enormous challenges she faces in dealing with my issues.

I know that some of you think of coming to see, and I would really enjoy seeing any and all of you, but you have to realize that I am absent a good deal. Lack of energy and the extensive morphia of pain medications keeps me sort of in an extended sleep stage and I am not much of a visitor being unable to maintain a coherent connection with the visitors.

I want to also mention to you, if you know anyone suffering with cancer issues, that to the extent that I can contribute information or contacts, I would like to as it is now the only thing left me... our financial situation is, as you can imagine, rather severe due to the totally unreasonable costs of all forms of conventional, allopathic, alternative, or integrated medicine.. we are, to the extent possible, affordable, and accessible, doing all of these things. There are many new alternative things to be attempted but they tend to be rather costly. And there are old things that should be tried... radiography treatment which was used successfully in WWI and WWII among other periods... but, even a hundred or two hundred a week for a service, pill, or shot adds up and the first thing you know you are confronted with thousands of dollars in expenses. Nevertheless, If I can share I would like to.

In terms of great good, I want to again mention something that every person getting radiation needs to know.I started radiation last July and I did get relief from those California sessions under the supervision of Dr Chen who was brought in by Dr. Walter Kim and Dr. Issels of the Issels Medical Center. Later, here in Texas I am taking additional radiation under the direction of Dr. Kerley. It is notable, while no comments on it, that during the treatments, early in the morning, well before the afternoon radiation, I liberally applied Aloe Mystery to the target radiation area. Then after the treatment, I again liberally applied Aloe Mystery to the target radiation area. If you do not know it, please be aware that radiation kills cells by burning them. As much of this treatment hit on my low back, pelvic kidney area I can tell you that it can give the the sense of producing heated urine --- though I did not have that experience, thank God, and your skin is burned sometimes like the effect of an extensive chemical, fire, or solar burn.

However, apparently due to my regular topical application of Aloe Mystery, I have not had the difficultly of dealing with any sense of burn pain, nor do I have anything but a very, very shadowy suggestion of a burn area on my body...only by very careful observation can you determine a visible burn demarcation on my skin. All of my medical doctors asked me to remove my clothes so that they could see the target radiation area when I told them about my results with Aloe Mystery and, of course, said nothing, other than it could not hurt ---- hurt? Good grief! It seems to eliminated the burn. None of the integrated or alternative doctors were surprised at the fact that I was free of the misery and discomfort of radiation burn.

The other thing that every cancer person needs to know about chemotherapy and radiation is that it can ordinarily really distress the digestive system and often in a very significant way. There are, obviously, many forms of chemotherapy and there are many different ways to radiate. Mostly one discovers unpleasant side effects which often will include stomach upset, nausea, indigestion, loss of appetite, inability to tolerate some or all foods and so forth. As I was well aware of this, prior to beginning all treat I began taking an internal liquid food supplement which is called WLA 132. WLA 132 is a very highly concentrated whole leaf aloe vera produced under very special and highly controlled circumstances. I have been supplementing my food with WLA 132 since June or July of this year, 2009. Apart from changes that I elected to make (I quit eating cheese for example as I consider all diary products to be bad for lung cancer) I have been able to enjoy every meal served, eat anything that I wanted, and have had no bad side effects from either radiation, chemotherapy, or other treatments. I think you can see, therefore, why I am such an advocate of these two products.

These products are the result of decades and work by Edna Hennessee of Dream Valley/CSL. Edna early in her career realized the devastating effect that agricultural sprays, farm-ranch-livestock run off would have on her beloved aloe plants. To produce the finest, purest, most logically organic aloe on the planet, Edna built enormous greenhouses to protect her aloe from everything possible, even drifting sprays ( and it is the ocean of bad sprays across the fields of much South Texas and northern old Mexico fields that makes hesitate to suggest any aloe except Edna's to any one. Let me stress that I did at one time work for Edna, many long years ago, but I have no interest in her company and these products are not a profit center of any sort for me or Suzi... we are just very enthused about these great cancer aids. To order, to ask for important information, to get a great book on aloe vera written by Edna's son, Odus Hennessee, please call and talk to Edna or to Areta at 800-364-2182. Both these great ladies are an inspiration to all and I sincerely ask you to reflect on those doctors, of any sort, and those people who may cancer challenges that would benefit from the use of Aloe Mystery and WLA 132; take a moment to do it right now, please.

I think it will be clear to most of my correspondents that the importance of organic, fresh, foods are vital to all health issues. I also know that some of my vegan friends and family do eat or approve of eggs. But I do. And I want to thank my brother, Brod, and his lovely life, Susan, for sending me straight from the farm a few dozen free range eggs ... the yolks stand tall, bright, firm, and the eggs are simply delicious. What a great addition to any meal. Today, I had the eggs with steel cut oats with olive oil and turmeric.. a great anti-cancer dish, in my opinion, especially if you are very generous with the turmeric.

I thank all of you for your kindness in reading my posts, in sending me encouraging words and prayers, and other often more material support. In these days, there is little so wonderful as a kind and encouraging word from an old friend or a family member. Thanks for all that you do for me and others in this stressful world and lest we forget it, we are not alone. Many people face and worse challenges than we do. May God richly bless them and you in all things.

Terry Turner, less curmudgeonly by the day.

This post was delivered in part, previously, by email.

Photograph credit. The photo was taken by the Dream Valley Green House Manager. It is Suzi inspecting an aloe vera leaf just ready for harvest --- rich in minerals, unique saccharides, and totally protected in these giant green houses from a polluted environment --- these rich leaves are the source of Aloe Mystery, the black salve, and the extraordinarily rich WLA-132.

On through the night

Copyright, Terry D. Turner, 2009

A couple of people, including my own internal self talk mechanism, have said, "be glad when you get back to your old self." No one would be gladder than I to attain the general demeanor I exhibited before having to deal with this fast moving cancer about which I have written in previous posts. Certainly I am not claiming that my old curmudgeon character and manner could not be improved on, but it was a much more energetic and personable character than I now find myself to be.

In part it is stress that has altered me greatly. And, largely, it is the stress of the unknown. As you can easily imagine dealing with cancer of the lung, spine, ribs, etc. is no picnic under any conditions. Getting past the initial treatments is a tough job and, then following the initial treatment there is the on-going follow up treatments which require considerable discipline and an uncommon effort in terms of food preparation, and other disciplines, along with the ever present attempt to help the liver detoxify by use of un-roasted coffee enemas.

While this effort to be cancer free goes forward, there is no visible evidence that tells you if you making progress or losing ground. It is a matter of hoping you are gaining on the objective but having no way to judge how far you have come or how far you must go. Progress, or lack of it, against this type of cancer has to be judged with the huge and horribly expensive MRI/CT scanning procedures which can look in your body and see what happens you take a big dose of something akin to sugar water --- cancer does love sugar in all forms and the medical techs have learned know how to light up the cancer cells which hit their party time buttons when sugar becomes available. Then, of course, one does not want to be scanned too often so, during all the time between scan results are also times in which you must wonder what is going on inside your body.

And naturally, you do not forget that this cancer blindsided you once and only a fool would rest easy with such a sneaky opponent.

With all markers and indications absent, all the follow on treatments, protocols, and and all that goes into the battle to be cancer free must go forward, so to speak, in darkness... hoping against hope that the protocols are working and that cancer is receding or even dead.

Under ordinary circumstances we have our health issues so well defined that we think we know where things end and begin... take this for ten days and be well; rub this on and it will stop. We'll just cut this off and that will be that. Take this for headache and it will cease and so forth. If you have the flu your own dripless nose tells you it is over.

Not so with cancer. Rising with cramps in the middle of the night, or, as I am now, sitting here drenched with yet another night sweat which forces me off my wet pillow and out of my wet sheets to change into fresh underwear, you don't know how you are doing.

What you do know is that you are exhausted with taking a hundred or two hundred pills a day. You know you are weary of these drops and those drops in thirty-two ounces of water; you are water logged with don't forget your food grade hydrogen peroxide (only eight drops in five ounces of water and only four times a day) and don't forget your lead free bicarbonate of soda and, by the way don't forget to think how to mitigate the extra salt; and don't forget your dose of molasses and bicarbonate of soda, and on and on. But all of this, of necessity, proceeds because it must...these are one's tools in a silent battle with a silent opponent. It rather reminds me of a famous line whose origin I have long since forgotten "Just because I am paranoid, don't mean nobody ain't following me."

So, with the battle fully underway between yourself and the cancer, what you do have the is recurring exhaustion that comes with every little pain which says, "Hey! What am I? Could I be cancer spreading?" Of course there is no reason to think so, but this aggravation is another burden on the attempt to have a tranquil mind

The sweats and the cramps, which just don't seem to end even though now and then I get a break from one or both, but they keep coming back. Are the sweats a good thing, like detoxification? No one seems to absolutely sure but they remain a constant companion during the battle.

And there is the tiredness of the aftermath of all the treatments. It is a flat, tired energy-less zone in which you remain too tired to rest, too tired to talk; too tired to do much of anything; it is a tiredness that reminds of that mournful haunting poem, Ozymandias.

Ozymandias
by
Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said--"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert ...Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away."


Ah, but tired or not, we must go on with enthusiasm, and on, through the darkness and on to the dawn when at last we will see proof of our labors; the cancer markers will fade, and the CT will look in vain for the sugared cells, and the nightmare will fade. And in time, the cancer will be forgotten, new treatments will arise, and in due course the forty year old popular health destroying death treatments such as surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation, in the main, will be replaced with the alternative life supporting treatments such as hydrogen peroxide, bicarbonate of soda, zeolites, oxygen, and such. And I will be left with the memory of the many, many friends and family who came to my aid in this battle.

God Bless You and Yours in All Things,

Terry
The Constant Curmudgeon

See The Amazing Burning Boy Dance, Just 25 Cents

See The Amazing Burning Boy Dance, Just 25 Cents
or Things I Release Forever -- The shining suit case handle

Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009


Of late I have been writing mainly about dealing with deadly cancer and, of course, you can't deal with cancer without looking at other issues.


All serious integrative medicine knows, absolutely, that we store emotional and physical damage in our bodies, and this stored negative energy is very adverse to human health. At another time I will list resources in regard to this "storage" but in the short term, take a look at folks like Marty Kleva http://gemfireair.com/aboutme.html --- the book Soul Dancing and a great deal of invaluable material on her website; or Cindy and Dr. Bob Deering of http://www.spiritemergenceoftaos.com/ --- free consultations available, or people in the tradition of Dr. Hamer of Germany.


At this time, I am simply going to address a terrifying memory which I would love to totally release and replace entirely with good and happy thoughts.


Around 1945 or so, I would have about six years, old. In the late fall of the year I had an event which cost me pain for months then and probably for all the years since.


At that time of year, it was common for property owners to clear away dead plants, trash, and debris of every sort. In the neighborhood where I lived there were gigantic honey suckle and other bushes of enormous size on most the properties.


When the wintry blasts had killed the green leaves, turning them to a sort of toasty colorful brown and red, all such plants were cut back and piled in ditches...what we called bar ditches at the time. These ditches ran along side our oiled roads and drained off water from rains. The ditches tended to be rather deep, I am guessing on average maybe about three or four feet deep.


When all the debris had been cleared from the property, which invariably included a goodly amount of trash which might contain anything, it was piled in the ditch between the property and the road and burned. Burning such trash was totally uncontrolled at that time.


Depending on wind, the amount of trash, the amount of plant material, and such factors, these fires might burn for half a day or a day or two and, over time, the top of the debris would develop a thick ashen gray coat which looked cool, and was material that had been totally burned away, but that gray blanket covered a small ocean of red hot embers that smoldered on..... white hot, red fire banked, volcanic like, beneath its warm gray blanket.


On this particular, day, as a young tow headed kid, I was walking along the road, I think returning from my first grade classes and suddenly, from the corner of my eye I saw something bright and very shinny --- clearly it was some wonderful thing. Do recall, please, that this is early on in WWII --- there were few bright and shinning things for kids --- and it was a khaki and olive green world for most people at the time, not black and white, not color. At the time things like our little tiny toy trucks were mainly rubber and colored with lead paint; dolls were still often bisque or relatively high grade well finished plastic, but they did not shine and sparkle as now do all things in our so called modern world.


Standing on the edge of that deep bar ditch I could feel some heat, and in Texas, even in September it is hot anyway.... we try to ignore heat to the extent possible. I could feel heat wafting off the gray ash; I could see the bright handle gleaming in the afternoon soon.


And, of what use was that bright handle to a young kid? Are you kidding me? In that day all kids existed on imagination ... we did have movies, CDS, videos, electronic toys, we just imagined things. You could pretend that handle was pistol just like Tom Mix's own six shooter. Ha! with anything that bright it could even be one of those spark throwing Flash Gordon rocket and space type guns. You could clean it and carry it around in your little stripped overalls and show it to other kids.... and they would all wish they hand one, so rare were really bright things. There was no end of uses, like digging holes, and pretending that it would unlock doors and who knows what and it would be my very own little treasure. And it was free!


The deep gray ash extended down the ditch about 100 feet it each direction.


So I resolved to have it. I would just jump in the ditch, seize the suitcase handle, and jump out.


Little did I know I was about to enter an endless molten hell.


I gave a little jump towards the middle of the bar ditch, and as my feet sank through the top of the ash, the ash flew skyward, a huge quantify of ash propelled by my weight and the rising heat instantly towered over me, I was sucking the ash into my lungs, I had to close my eyes, and following the ash the red hot embers shot skyward as I sank deeper and deeper into the burning inferno.


I knew I was in bad trouble and I knew I had to get out some way, even though I was now effectively on fire, my clothes and flesh were burning and I was blind for practical purposes and, then, I made yet another bad decision, I got a glimpse of the length of the ditch and began to run towards the distant end where the fire terminated.


I must have looked like a little motor boat racing down a channel of water and throwing up a rooster tail of ash and fiery red embers. How fast can you run while being cooked alive? Fast friends, fast.


Coming out the end of the bar ditch, which left a long string of fire, smoke, embers, and hell behind, me all I could think was to run to my grandmother, the woman who raised me, Annie Turner. My pants were burned off almost to my knees, my little shoes were bubbling away on my feat, embers were smoldering all over me, in my hair, on my clothes and anywhere a hot coal could lodge a holding.


I do not recall much of the run for home. Most of when I then remember is that Mom and some neighbor grabbed and dosed me from a rain barrel and then in quick order swept everything off the kitchen table. Mom first doused me with kerosene from top to bottom --- kerosene was the useful alternative treatment for everything in that era. I suppose it is too refined today to be of use for anything on a medicinal level. Once she had me soaked in kerosene, she cut off my shoes and clothes and did what ever mothers can do to calm me... in the meantime, reaching into her flour bin (the 25# of flour kind that was under every kitchen counter of the era) she steady added huge quantities of flour, water, and some buttermilk to a huge bread bowl, and once the paste was acceptable to her, she began to slather the paste onto me so that no air could reach my body... this went on, to me, forever, the cooling paste helped soothe the fire.


I however remained in excruciating pain which went on for days. I don't really recall much about it. Mom worked on me day and night, especially on my feet which took the worst of it. I am sure weeks were involved and I am quite sure Mom never left me, steady replacing the paste, steadily watering me down with kerosene, steadily applying butter to really bad places, steadily using little bits of block ice here and there.

Eventually, I was well enough to crawl around on my knees, so long as I manged to keep my feet in the air... again this went on a long time. Weeks I suppose.


Eventually, I got well, got to wear shoes, and began to feel normal except that a great deal of trust had been removed my life, a great deal of fear had been installed.


Another kid got the shining handle.


This event, even at 70 years of age plagues me now and then. As do many other events in my life. All of us have such traumas some more or less dramatic but all deep, scarring, and painful.


My present solution is this. I am going to open a home in my 70 year old heart for that young tow headed kid. I am going in deep meditation back to that burning hell and I am going to rescue young Terry Don before he leaps into that ditch and I am bringing him back to live forever, safely with me. We can be pals. Maybe we will get catcher's mitt and find someone to play ball with but we are going to forget, forgive, and forever release the burning bar ditch on East Second Street in Wichita Falls, Texas.


Traumas are out there. Not far into the future I would find myself at death's door electrocuted by a radio antenna hanging over a 50,000 KV electric transmission line; and far off in the future lay a buffalo attack, and many other events to address. But, today, I am going to bring Terry Don from the past to the future.

Photo: Annie and Joe Turner seated, 1941, Joe holding Terry Don about age 2; I was gigantic, and, standing in the background, my brother/uncle, William Laverne Turner, "Buddy."

A Slice of the Real Anti Cancer World

Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009

Thursday was my last radiation day for which I am grateful, but that or something left me feeling sort of deflated. Never the less, several of you have asked what am I doing out here in terms of recovering my health and defeating my cancer which, as mentioned, when discovered was eating my spine, eating into my my spinal column, attacking my spinal cord, my ribs, and working away to digest my left lung.... a nasty silent aggressor.

One person said, I suppose you stroll up and down the beach a lot. Ha! Stroll? Those us who arrive in this part of the West are sitting on the edge of our graves. We have been, almost without exception, given an emotionless death sentence by members of an oncology team who seem totally bereft of feelings other than trying to figure out how to scare you into killing yourself by committing to about $200,000 worth of chemotherapy and, maybe some fun options like having lots of your body cut up and, maybe some radiation as well too burn you until you can't swallow, digest, or take a dump.

You may recall they told me I was a Hail Mary Miracle Case in the beginning --- small cancer, easy to deal with, then suddenly I was rather drastic and needed urgent chemo, and then, in quick order I only had a two percent chance of survival, even with chemo, and when Susan and I kicked back and said we would seek a second opinion and take a look at what we believed, in our hearts, to be true, that chemo and radiation and surgery produce dead survivors and that cleansing, nutrition, clean food, immune support and logical, safe, minimally damaging treatments produces not survivors but people who have recovered from cancer. Of course, Susan and I have been advocates for clean food, nearly impossible to get in America these days, and good nutrition most of our lives.

"Mr. Jolly," as I shall call my happy oncologist, called us the next day and said we could not start chemo fast enough, that it was too late for me in any case, and then he added, you will be paralyzed in a matter of days, your spine is already too week for you travel. Suzi was busy booking the flight and notes and other powerful encouragements were arriving daily from family and friends around the world. I am so happy that I can say that I had not one nay-sayer to deal with (other than Mr. Jolly) and in essence everyone supported our decision to head west for the best center of integrative and alternative and traditional care that could be found under one roof -- that roof belongs, of course, the Issels Medical Center.

So, when we get here, we are not strolling, most of us are glancing downward into the pit that is clearly the grave that modern diet and modern medicine have digging for us for years.... it catches up with some of us sooner than others. Exhausted and hardly able to walk, rise, sit, stand upon arrival here, a caring staff has its hands full to deal with us ... believe me, upon arrival, trying to grasp how quickly your life has been splintered, fearful of the darkness towards the bottom of the grave, mentally exhausted, ordinarily due long term pain (almost 15 weeks in my case before I had any relief), your emotions are slowly becoming a sea of fear, mush, and tears which, somehow, you must manage to marshall into a positive we can do this and win attitude. So, again no, we do not stroll the beach. The few of us with the strength to do so do, of course. I tried to make it to the beach but simply did not have the strength to stand nor the stamina to walk that far. I do thank God that I can daily hear and see the ocean from our little apartment.

So, what happens out west and what do we really do here. I will give you the best picture I can but every day is unique to the day, the patient, and the cancer, and the odd things that attend the day. For example, one day I was scheduled to go into Far Infrared Therapy but I came out of one treatment and for unknown reasons began to cramp and had to do some quick marching up and down the hall to try to relive the cramps ... and this, in turn affected the rest of my schedule for that day.

In the beginning intense medical history and test results are assembled form wherever such things can be had.. collected by FEDEX, Email, fax, etc. so that the doctors can assemble the best profile of you and your problem as possible and, of course, all the usual things such as weights, pressures, oxygen content, supplements taken, medicines taken, prior and other medical problems and histories and so forth. As I am 70, and having had a rather eventful life I have to be careful to remember every thing and just drafting this reminded me that I failed to report that I had a voluntary vasectomy in 1963. I must let the staff know tomorrow.

As this material begins to mature into one's database, the various treatments, tailor made for each case, each person, and each day begin to be launched. There are no days on which all the same things happen day after day but, on most days, something like this will be the drill.

Susan and I arise about 5 Am, I joke that I do so to work on my original Issels Opera, "Have you had your coffee enema today? It's one thing that will help keep cancer away." I brew the un-roasted special coffee for my approximately cup and a half enema. It is hard to make enemas a pleasant topic and many of us, for a time, take the coffee enema morning and night.... twice the coffee, twice the fun.

We do some quick housekeeping, Susan is busy trying to figure out how to do a live organic type breakfast for me (not the huge portions of scrambled eggs with lots of cheese that I like) and invariably she wants to peel a large cucumber.... I like cucumber, of course, but some days, looking at the pale cucumber, I do realize it is not a good hot steaming biscuit of the type I am fond of making.

Between food preparation, enemas, showering, dressing, and all that goes with that, we have to begin to sort and assemble the supplements for the day.... these numbers vary, of course, from case to case, and time to time depending on the patient, the cancer, and the medical stats. In my case I start with three saucers. I put the morning, noon, and evening dose, individually, in each saucer. When each saucer has its allotment of pills, I leave the pills on the morning saucer as I must take them immediately after our breakfast.... not my beloved hot biscuit, gravy, or such of long ago and far away. The pills in the other two saucers I transfer to plastic bags for later use.

At this time, day in and day, I am prescribed one powdered drink called Wholly Immune. I am prescribed about 90 drops of three liquids in a quart of water (the Heel Detox Kit), and I take, ore or less about fifty assorted pills each day before any additional pills given me at the clinic.

The price of some supplements are rather breathtaking, though I am not complaining. One item called Salvestrol Platinum, 75 caps, costs about $195 per bottle....such is the nature of the battle.

Then we have to try to handle some of our emails, do things to try to keep our little interests going, and get showered and ready to move out by taxi or hitched ride to the clinic around 7:30 AM --- arising at 5 barely gives us time to do this, though I do admit to having a little fresh coffee before we launch fully into the day.

Arriving at he clinic, all our daily stats are gathered (weight, pressure, oxygen, etc.) and then we all begin to move off to our various treatments. Wednesday, as I recall, I had far-infrared therapy first in which the name of the game is weakened cancer cells with heat. Cancer does not like heat and so we strive to heat our bodies to around 105-106 degrees and hold that temperature to kill the cancer cells. There are two methods, one is dry heat, and one is in a closed chamber which will pull the sweat off your body in copious amounts and, in that case, you are trying to drink all the water you can.

Then you might move on into a hyperbaric chamber (an oxygen box) in which you are sealing in a large plastic chamber, rather shaped like a giant hot dog, and you breathe oxygen... it gets hot in the chamber and I usually ask for a block of ice.... as the pressure rises your ears pop, airplane style, and the heat goes up; the ice helps me keep cool and distracts me.

Probably then you might move on to, for example the IV room, where they punch the needles and ports into your arms that must be opened to become the highways for the various specialty IVs. Some IVs --- an IV is a bag of nutritional fluid or meds which is conveyed into your body via the needles --- are what I call shorties, maybe they only last an hour, some are dreadfully big and, like the type which are mainly large vitamin C dose type, nay last three to four hours. These long bags are bothersome in that you need to remain seated for long periods of time and they certainly interfere with bath room time.

With all this going on someone always has a little cup of this or a drink or that or another pill to be taken while the IV continues.

Somehow, with all this there are conferences to be held with the doctors, there are grief counseling sessions with Dr. Walter Lewis, a man for whom I have the greatest respect, and so on. Having the chance to personally talk with Dr. Issels, or Dr. Walter Kim, or Dr. Lewis is always a high point.

Then, thanks to a caring and determined staff somehow you will get more and other treatments worked in. Off to reflexology, quick let's get to acupuncture, or lymphatic massage. Let's keep moving, let's get some new blood draws ... just six or seven new tests today, and in between these wonderful nurses are seeing that you get down a ton of water, that you don't fall on your head, that you don't pull over your IV tower, that you get your green drinks, your green salad, and your green lunch.

Whirling around in the back ground are some great informational lectures, too bad the whole world cannot hear these which explain how our dead farms are providing us with dead food that is killing us, how faulty lab tests can be, how erroneous diagnosis can be, and so forth.

And, of course, there are some classes such as what types of ingredients to avoid, or how to select food, or how to prepare food (for many people the idea of preparing food is almost as alien to them as cancer, but prepare food you must if you are going to live. And, of course one must relearn how to think about food, how to select food, and how to eat food. Here is a clue for you. Eat more than half your food as raw uncooked veggies to take a great step towards avoiding cancer. Suzi and I feel that though we ate raw food, we did not eat enough in our rush to attend to business. I can assure you, in our present and future lives, nothing will replace the need to first and foremost take care of our personal health issues.

Towards the end of the day, the fat IV bags grow flat, at last, and as we make preparations to wrap up the day, it is not uncommon to get an immune boosting shot, made from you own blood, on the spot, to help launch your immune defenses to keep them fully stirred up and active against cancer.

This "schedule" of course is only approximation of our daily schedule but I think it will give you a picture of sorts. At the end of our day, around 5:00 PM, for two weeks, Suzi and I then had to gather up our books, my supplements, meds, and liquids and go to the Cottage Hospital where I would then take the daily radiation treatment which I had to have due to the advanced attack cancer made on my spine. By the time we process through the radiation treatment and return to our apartment, the clock is advancing on 7:30 PM, and it is time for us to figure out an organic meal, suitable to my program, and do all the nightly things that require attention before the 5:00 AM alarm calls us away.

The folks there were fabulous, kind, caring but and do note this, they seemed somehow disconnected on one level because they offered cookies at the entrance and candies throughout the facility to the public, clients, visitors and so forth.

Regarding all the candy and sugar, I so wanted to say, "Hey! Folks, don't you know cancer is trying to kill us and you are feeding cancer free sugars, its favorite food?" I did not tackle that with the administration. I was just too tired to go to battle, but, dear family, dear friends, don't just assume that what you see, what you hear, what you are offered is sensible. Anyone can see that offering sugar to a cancer victim is an actual crime. This of course raises the question as to whether people in the healing professions should engage in concerns about social amenities like cookies or should they do all that they can to educate their patients.

As I patient, I would prefer to be reminded to avoid sugars at all costs.

Addendum, my first radiation treatment was in August 2009, in Santa Barbara, California; by November I was again having radiation in Mt. Pleasant Texas at the Bo Pilgrim Oncology Center... Bo Pilgrim is the well known chicken king in a Pilgrim style hat.

Your Constant Curmudgeon,

Terry Turner

Image Credit; to the best of my knowledge the image is part of a small photocopy of a painting which was possible done by an American Indian person by the name of Ron Twelve. The copy was then glued on a Russian style three piece triptych and, to me, remains incredibly charming. The original title of the piece may have been Indian Easter. I regret that is all that I can offer in the way of information.

Throw Away Pot

A Throw Away Coffee Pot

Most of you know I am rather challenged with a cancer situation that is trying to eat me alive...but little does the cancer know I am winning... thanks to many of your prayers and good wishes.

In the meantime, more than you care to know about almost any subject begins here. We are staying in a one bedroom condo on the Santa Barbara coast with cool sea breezes, the ocean to murmur us to sleep at night and, like all furnished quarters, lots of defective things about.

The tradition four cup coffee pot, designed and ever improved some 30 years ago was my first objection as I do insist on a good cup of coffee.

We were telling my sister Kim about this and that we had not fond a place within 15 miles to buy a coffee pot so she said she would send us a throw away pot.

It arrived at the clinic where I am taking treatments. I would not say it was exactly a throw away pot as it took two UPS drivers to get it up to the second floor of clinic after which we had to hire a taxi driver to haul it down and help us carry it into the condo. We keep hoping she did have to mortgage something to finance the pot.

I don't want to say this pot is LARGE but is BIG. We have negotiated a deal with a neighbor here to let us leave it on his patio at night so we have room to open the dishwasher, the fridge and things like that.

I have been thinking I could rent his patio and maybe open a little al fresco coffee shop with a couple of umbrellas, you know the type that are too hot to sit under if you are Texas but are perfect in Santa Barabara or Paris.

At any rate, it makes the best darned coffee you ever tasted but, following their instruction requires us to use about a half pound of cofffee a day, nevertheless it is really good coffee and does not suffer from all the excitotoxins that come automatically from those places like Star Bucks where they add triple chemical zingers to plain coffee in order to make your eyeballs pop like baby giant firecrackers.

Kim has always been too generous to a fault and has the most open hand and heart one ever heard of.... she has always been far too good to me.

Just so you don't think this is all a picnic, I can hardly type this for the cramps that have plagued me for hours.... but not to worry, I am winning and it is losing.

Photo Credit. Quick throw away shot of Terry and Sky Williams with her attempt to do a painting of the Spring Maiden...... a painting of many tales and, after many trials, created especially for Ann K.

Drugs ineffective against Wilbur Ramsey

What can you do with a blog, of any sort, except tell stories, and try to correct some errors and omissions? I am not a blogger in the usual sense, I am just looking for ways to communicate these days since I can't do the huge volume of email that used to characterize my daily communications. I need all that energy, now to fight my cancers.

Fighting cancer takes a lot out of you and it takes a huge amount of physical energy away, energy formerly squandered on politics, fighting giant pharma, big agra and others who seem determined not to understand that they poison not only me, not only you, not only the world, but they poison themselves and their own children.... think not?

If you think they are are not killing their own children, let them try to find some absolutely clean water; let them try to eat an absolutely organic chemical free cabbage; let them try to pick a fresh plum that is not covered by xeno dust, powders, chemicals, who knows what chemical insecticides, fungicides, and other fallout; let them eat plums,l apples, and carrots that must suck up water polluted with every sort of medical, agricultural, and human and feed lot chemical, plums that must breathe air that floats like a sort of universal sea of chemicalized, contaminated air prepared as far away as your next town, pollutants from China, radiation from Russia, and other parts... think that we are not all poisoned? Think, think again.

But, as I was saying, I need all that extra energy now, all the energy I can muster to help me process the daily radiation burns and the monumental detoxification on all levels required to fight the aggressor --- a sort of silence, powerful, evil termite that invaded my defense system, and slowly began to consume me, rather like a voracious Trojan Horse hidden in my lungs and bones, digging holes in my spine, trying to collapse my tower of strength, .... who knows when the attack on my body started, who knows how long I lived side by side with my silent, invisible, killing visitor... I had not a clue. Then, in seven incredible days in July, I was determined to be a miracle case: July 12, we never catch it this early, it is small cell carcinoma, only a small patch in your lower left lung.... we can clean it up quickly), about July 5: your condition is very advanced, very serious and it has spread to the spine you have to start some treatment immediately, we are ordering more tests; then, the fateful July 15 when the oncologist, without benefit of all tests told me quickly in less than ten minutes that I only had a two percent chance to survive, that I would be paralyzed in a matter of days.... the termite was trying to finish off my T4 vertebrae and take control of my spinal canal and prepare to lunch on my spinal cord.

I wanted a second opinion, I wanted something besides the virtual death guaranteed by chemotherapy. You can't travel they said; you are dead walking he said. But shortly, I was out of Texas and in California and getting both radiation and alternative therapy..... and boy did I need the radiation to help head off the cancer at the pass commonly called T4... stop them there or call it a day it seemed.... now I have four more days of radiation to go..... gotta love those cobalt canon firing their deadly invisible beams into my deadly cancer termites.

But I digress, I wanted to talk about Wilbur Ramsey, and with you permission, here is what I wanted to say to an old friend. I am writing the following in particular because I failed to thank Wilbur in a prior email ... it was, I think, an odd oversight on my part. I blame it the pain killer drugs with which I am loaded. Drugs are certainly an essential if very excessively used part of our society but they also pose a serious intervention in the brain which may sometimes go unnoticed

Yesterday I was trying to remember people to thank. I wanted to be sure to make note of some very important contributors in my life even though I know there are too many to fully appreciate or recognize, try though I may. At the moment, about 2:15 AM, I am sweating it out again, drenched, and thinking of a friend, a former newspaper editor and publisher --- from the old days when the newspaper was published for the community, not for the political agenda of some far off power broker. And the world was still more or less what we once considered the world to be, unlike the present formless, plastic situation in which nothing is sure on any level.

I failed to mention him in my prior communique and find it odd that he slipped the foggy pain free zone that used to be my ever alert brain.

Wilbur Ramsey and his wife have been friends for a number of years. Wilbur is a dedicated fellow health research aficionado and has often aided us in helping others based on his keen memory and the thousands of pages of true research material which he has read during the last several years.

He has never failed to voluntarily help me by suggesting product sources, offering editorial suggestions, sending or turning me on to some good manufacturing labs. Wilbur is also a fantastic product designer and on his website you can find some of the best alternative products on the market today. Men, in particular, would find Wilbur's prostate product well worth examining along with things like cancer fighting Graviola, Esiak Tea (Canadian Nurse Essie), and AHCC --- the great Japanese mushroom product... I am not saying these things will cure you, cancer, or anything, I am saying they are good products, and well worth investigation and research. Wilbur is a great source for these types of unique products and for information about such types of products.

You can find Wilbur at
www.globalnutritions.com/catalog.htm

But what I wanted to say is that when Wilbur found out I had cancer, the following morning or so, I had a huge box of cancer fighting Graviola, Esiak Tea, and AHCC (active hexose correlated compound) sitting on my desk compliments of Wilbur... even drugs can't make you forget old friends like Wilbur. I did not see an invoice or questions about payment.

This is not the end of this or any story, it is one of many. Shortly I want to tell you a story, an old one, a little story about a gold coin which our friends, Greg and Catherine Leake, know of.

I have been trying also to think of what to say to and about Marti DeCluitt --- http://www.facebook.com/people/Marti-DeCluitt/1321035873 ---a remarkable person, a world class citizen in many ways, and a good friend decade after decade after decade.

Thanks for allowing me to share this memory.

Terry

I regret I still can't deal with open phone lines but I do accept messages at 903-285-6661, I am getting mail here in California and I am getting mail at PO Box 596, Mount Vernon, Texas, 75457, our personal PO Box.

I answer what I can as I can.

The Opinion --- You have a 2% chance of survival and you will probably be paralyzed in a couple of weeks.

Needless to say, a sane person can hardly go forward with such a premise as a plan of action!!!

Having recently been given a very bad cancer prognosis by some conventional doctors in Texas, I am now in California with one of the world's premier alternative doctors at the Issels Medical Center in Santa Barabara, California where I am doing both alternative and conventional treatments. As my situation is very serious, I think you can at least assume that I am telling you the truth as I see it. As I am on some drugs, I may not be as clear as I would like to be, but these words are my view at the moment, drugs or no.

I wish I had the energy to write all that I would like to communicate but, while I feel I am making progress, and I am still rather weak and can't address many things I would like.

First of all thanks for the huge blessing your thoughts words, works, and resources have been to me in this particular crisis. I strongly suspect that without the immediate surge of support, I might already be history. As it is, circumstances carried me immediately to this wonderful clinic and its very anti-cancer contrarian staff--- they have a world class outlook, almost fifty years of proven experience,and they are winning the broad battle against cancer.

It is pitiful that the standard insurance and medical practice drivers, the PTB (the power that be), of this country are only dedicated to promoting chemo, surgery, and radiation when other, cheaper, and more effective tools are well known..... the big guns in this country just will not support alternative medicine or research yet, though as the cancers spread perhaps their outlook will, at last, change.

Even he worst of things, greed-materialism-immorality-poverty, must collapse in time and we can look forward to a brighter day in these and other arenas. I should mention, that even though my alternative doctors generally oppose radiation, they all agree that I have no alternative but to undergo radiation to stop the invasion of my spine by my rapidly advancing cancer and, hopefully avoid the threat of a spinal collapse and paralysis within a short term.... so I am being daily cooked in my mid back zone with radiation from Cobalt guns... .a surreal experience conducted in near darkness and total silence while giant machines seems to study your body for the best place to take a bite. I regret the need, I do not fear the technology, it is just technology unlike chemo which is just a perfect total body poison... not big deal and I do appreciate the subsequent pain relief I have felt. I was in terrible pain for nearly 15 weeks and the radiation has almost eliminated the pain in four low dose treatments back to back.

If you wonder why I am so busy, just think of this, while I am getting various IV potions, people are busy taking blood, taking temps, weight, blood pressure, oxygen content, and on and on, in the meantime I am being herded up and down the halls going from Far Infrared Therapy... .a way of being cooked at around 125 degrees inside and out and then on to Hyperbaric Oxygen Saturation, very hot and drying in a large plastic tube..... but cancer cannot survive in oxygen... it loves sugar, alcohol, and hates oxygen and fresh green vegetables (these are clues folks).

While these things, and lymphatic massage, and acupuncture and related things go on, I take the equivalent of one pill about every four minutes..... it keeps a fellow busy, not to mention the business of brewing and taking coffee enemas (coffee for enemas is not a Folgers' product' and you tell it is medical coffee by the price :-)

Suzi is exhausted trying to deal with me and my needs and, frankly, without her I would be as near to a dead duck as I would care to be. She is worked to death dealing with trying to keep our little cottage by the bay (Issels Medical Clinic housing) on a diet plan that corresponds to my needs, dealing with my sweats and T-Shirts and such due to the fact that I with my nightly fever condition (detoxification) go three three two or three sets of sweats and underwear a night... or more.

I get very hot, sweat out the suit, then I begin to freeze and have to change into dry clothes at once..... along with this problem I taking drugs to help tamp down pain and inflammation; drugs like hydrocodone (rather like codeine), morphine (which I take as little as possible--really nasty stuff), prednisone which helps with pain and inflammation (and worse, perhaps) it makes me so emotional that I can hardly speak at times.... I know it drives Suzi crazy, when she says, "Be careful or how do you feel?" and I respond by tearing up or telling her I will cut her heart out and serve it up on a raw onion taco.... this will test the limits of any relationship.

In the dark of the night, I think of better times, not that these are not great, Thank You God, I listen to or read Marty Kleva (Thank You God) and her works regarding stress and overcoming major body trauma -- you can find Marty at http://www.gemfireair.com/, and I often read from Martina Newberry's poetry collection where we can all discover that we are somehow attached to Blue Island and Martina and each other (Thank You God.)

Most of you know Suzi is very petite, has small structure and hands and it hard for her to handle heavy things, jar lids, and such, and yet here she is stuck with lifting everything in our life... I can't even lift a quart jar and the laundry weighs more than she does.

I have to sign off..... I am hopeful of some sleep.

I do want especially to thank Caroline Durston of Spa Rio Caliente ( a great place for rest, R&R, and to dump some stress) near Guadalajara, in old Mexico, for her quick, forceful, positive support and encouragement, to Edna Hennessee of Dream Valley the quick influx of a priceless supply of Aloe Mystery and WLA 132 --- two of the most powerful agents in the world against radiation burns and effective against cancer, --- if you have an interest in Aloe, Edna is the expert with the best, purest aloe on the planet, in my opinion, and she also provides great private label product services and fine aloe drinks --- and of course, all thanks to my wonderful family, Kim and Todd in particular, for providing us an easy way to make the planes and arrive here promptly.

I want to thank the Deerings, old Taos friends, who daily continue to help me with certain types of bioenergetic information and symbols (peculiar to the type of exceptional and unique body information that the Deerings have developed in connection with healing) The Deerings can be found through Spirit Emergence of Taos --- if you have a health problem you can't overcome, these folks are well worth consulting. Trust me, I have many more to thank for many things including those who, like Marty Kleva, Marty DeCluitt, my wife's family, and my own family, seem to have always been ready in the background.

Believe me, I am doing all I can to beat this and will, in due course, bring the news about how to do it to the public in anyway that I can. Suzi and I will soon put up a website to explain what we have learned and to share that with others.... I imagine we are going ahead to make this some sort of donor/subscription/and free service but these, and other events remain to unfold in their own good time.

In closing, some of you who know me well, may be amused that there is long chance that an attack by a buffalo, now about 30 years ago, may have a role in my current health battle; seems that some elk and some buffalo are infected with brucellosis which has many similarities to cancer... it will be another week before we have these answers.

The best I can suggest to you at this time is to broaden your relationship with whatever your version of the Great Spirit is, eat raw green leafy vegetables, drop all the stress you can, cut sugar and alcohol and smoking at once, and, every day, for every challenge, for every pain, for every second chance, just say, "Thank You, God, Thank You."

Terry Turner

Diogee to be Jailed

or Never get between a drug company and a chemo sale

Copyright, 2009, Terry Turner

First of all please be informed that I do not know what I am writing about. Sometimes I have feelings that have little to do with facts and I have met few facts that had anything to do with feelings. Also, I realize that many of you do not yet know my world famous dog, Diogee, or how he became a pig, but that is your loss and another story.

This story is about how Diogee come to go to jail when he had cancer a while back. You have to admit that cancer is about as unpleasant a subject as you would care to read about, never mind the pain, aggravation, and going to jail and all such might be associated with a person or a dog or a hog for that matter.

Anyway it is pretty simple. I could tell Diogee was not feeling too good. He usually helps me with the mail and all. Generally he will bring in mail left by the United States Post Office and he will throw the first class stuff on my desk and then he generally will trash the rest or use it fluff up his bedding --- he puts a great store by grocery store inserts for his bed but he does not care for things like Office Depot catalogs. Generally he will help me lick stamps and seal envelopes and such. But he was acting too tuckered to do any of that and finally I ast him if he was feeling poorly and whether he wanted to go to Vet.

It took me a two or three weeks to convince him to go. Diogee and the Vet had previously had some run ins at the city council meetings and Diogee really did not want to go see him; after all who would want to go see a Vet that had voted for a twenty million dollar tax bond; but she was the only Vet in the county.

This is a pretty long story, any one can see that, so I am going to shorten it up right here, then it won't be so long. She, the Vet, says Diogee has a sort of not too bad cancer and ought to have Chemotherapy. Diogee says he will think about it. So I took him home and we discussed it a few days.

I told Diogee he probably ought to have chemo but he says to me, he says I remember that doctor was going to take out your sister's kidneys and then she got well by taking choline... a plain old vitamin...hell even an old dog like me knows you have to take choline to help out a sick kidney. What if I just need some juice or vitamins?

I says to him will Diogee, it is your body and I will help you do what you want to do. Well we went back to the Vet and says, "Doc, what else you got, we do not care much for the chemo idea." Well, Doc says, you have to take the chemo or die." I says, well, wait a minute, are you telling me in the whole world its chemo or die. And the Vet says, "Absolutely."

So I says, but Doc, I know, personal like of people who got on Gerson's Therapy for Cancer... it's one of them well knowed and famous like medical doctor treatments and people got well on that and it is mainly about drinking juice and such. Doc, says, "Maybe so, but the only thing for Diogee is chemo."

"But Doc," says I, "Diogee says that all the dogs say that chemo stuff will make you as sick as dog and it has not hardly been improved none at all since it was invented... and a better body burner doesn't exist since its invention as far as I can hear. We'll go think about it."

So we went back to the house and I fixed up some fresh biscuits and gravy and a nice tea, no sugar, for our lunch. And I says, "Diogee, it looks like she thinks you better have chemo."

Diogee, says, well, I could have chemo but I know it will make me as sick as hog for sure. And anyways I was reading that Linus Pauling and that bunch had some great information about Vitamin C therapy and all such like that --- you known he is well knowed among dogs who like science as he won one of the No-Bell prizes. I sure would like to be that smart."

"Well" says I, "We can't be waiting for you to win no No-Bell prize. We have to do something."

So we go back the Vet and the Vet, she says in a nutshell, "There are no alternatives. Take the chemo or die."

So I says to her, "Doc, how many people die from taking Chemo?" And she says why would you ask that and I says because if a hundred people take chemo and 90 of them don't live it don't sound so hot to me and she says if you want to ask questions you better get out of here. Then she floors me when she says, "You get that Diogee in here and on chemo or I will have to report you for a non-chemical user and I will write you up for high blood pressure besides."

Then I says, "Well, I do not like that you are telling Diogee that there are no alternatives. Saying there are no alternatives is like when that doctor telling me I had to have a hemorrhoid operation and that I had no alternative and then my mother-in-law tells me that by taking vitamin B6 I can cure hemorrhoids and then I tell the doctor and he says taking vitamins is not a treatment and then I take the vitamin B6 for a week and get rid of the hemorrhoids. I say vitamins may not be a treatment but then I also say rain is not a fire truck but what do I care if it puts the fire out. And, by the way, I understand a real good hemorrhoid operation runs ten to thirty thousand whereas I guess vitamin B6 is about five dollars --- but of course you do lose the advantage of sharp knives, phone poles, and recovery time and all that. Any way the Doc tells me I am ignorant and I says durn sure am or I would be making a commission selling hemorrhoid operations like you do." Then the fight started; but that was a while ago.

Well that went on a while. When it came to alternatives I mentioned cabbage --- what ever did happen to those studies back in World War II --- no patents, no profits I guess. And I mentioned all the alternative clinics, and I mentioned Gerson again, and I mentioned magnetic clay, fasting, juicing, avoiding things that, in my opinion, are common poisons like high fructose corn syrup (some fools want you to think it is natural), monosodium glutamate, margarine which is just a way of selling hydrogenated oil products; I mentioned bioresonace type resources, and lots of similar stuff but in the end she, the Vet, says chemo or die.

So we went home agin. Diogee was in the house making us a toasted cheese sandwich. Diogee is partial to goat cheese and we both like homemade sourdough bread. Anyways, Diogee was making our lunch and I was rocking on the front porch when whoosh, whoosh-like the Sheriff rolls up to my house in his big airconditioned black and white. "Howdy." he sez, "Howdy." sez I. Then I said, "Sheriff Baumgardener, what can I do for you? We are about to have lunch, would you like a sourdough sandwich?"

And he says, "Don't try to butter me up. I am here to arrest that durn dog of yourn."

Well, my jaw fairly bounced off my belt buckle and I says, "But Sheriff, what has he done now?"

"He ain't done nothing," says the Sheriff, "but he is wanted for chemo treatment."

And I says, "But Sheriff, me and Diogee don't want no chemotreats. We have already told Doc that we are looking to do some alternator stuff like the Gerson medical treatment or something that don't make the dog as sick as hog."

And he sez, "It really don't matter what you want. This is government business, at least it is the business of the government to enforce the will of them that knows better, and that dog has got to be chemoed right now. So, you just surrender him."

"Surrender him?" Says, I, "Surrender him, how can you be asting me to surrender a dog that ain't done nothing, nor something either?"

"Well," says Sheriff Baumgardener, "I don't make the rules. The rules is that dog has got to have chemotreats and if I have to take him to jail to do it that is the way it is going to be. After all I have to enforce the will of the government of the United States of America and the people of this fair state and I am here to protect you with your rights and see that people get chemoed."

And I says, "Well, does your franchise as sheriff say that you get a goodly commission on these chemo treats? I thought I was the tax payers that elected you or am I wrong about that?

"No," he says, smart alecky like, "I am duly elected by the folks hereabouts."

So I says, "Are any folks hereabout telling you to arrest Diogee and stick him full of approved drugs that are going to make him dog sick and that we don't want?"

And he says, "You know the people hereabout don't give a damn with Diogee and his doctor. And you know as well as I do that the Vet turned you in for being a non-chemical user and avoiding the chemo fees and such, and she is demanding that something be done. Hell, she told me the drug company that sells the chemo has signed a citizens petition to the government about this situation with Diogee already; and there is a big complaint about you and Diogee interfering with the interstate marketing of chemicals, drugs, and medicine. As far as I know you may be costing senators and congersmen a lot of donations or at least lunch money."

And I says, "Sheriff, how can a giant corporation like a drug company go around masquerading as an ordinary citizen and signing petitions and such like they are somebody. You know as well as I do that citizen's petition ought to be from folks like you or me, not some giant corporation with more lawyers than employees?" Then he says, "Don't get smart, that is lawyer stuff and you know it." And I says, "Well, I know it is lawyer stuff, they always lead with their laywers and their their boughten and paid-for scientists and experts that have never been beyond sight of the front door of the senate dining room or thier bank.

And I says, "We ain't going to jail to take no chemo shots. My dog and me do not want to do it. That body standing here with my lunch is my dog's body and he has made clear that he does not want no chemicalization of something he does not trust."

Well, quick as wink that durn sheriff put the cuffs on me and on Diogee and before we knowed it we was in jail. It did not disturb me an awful lot. We were in jail before when the gumint declared Diogee a pig (before and after that he was my dog, but that is another story).

Like I said, I better shorten this up, so I will right here. Well I told the Sheriff that I would sue when I got out of jail and he says he won't do no good and I says a dog's body is his own and he says to me, smart aleck like, you need to grow up and, I quote, "You just think you own your body, the gumint owns your body and your dog's body and you ought to know better than to get between a cancer victim and chemo sale. Do you realize how much money can be made off chemo? Grow up, Old Son, grow up; you might treat cancer with cabbage juice, but no one can make fistfuls of dollars on cabbage juice. Just quieten down and realize that you are fighting the former almighty dollar"

Well, the short of it is Diogee got chemoed. I hope he will live over it but he is pretty sick at this time. I have taken a third mortgage on the farm, mostly to pay for chemo and to help with my legal bills. My lawyer, who jumped to my defense, says to me, "You are right, this is America and you surely own your own body. We will take it all the way to the Supreme Court where the socialists are if it takes every dime you have." He made me feel real good about it, but still Diogee has been chemotreated and, just like taking vaccines full of horrible preservatives, I am not sure he will ever be well again. But hey! Whats is a little autism, Alzheimer's, or a dysfunctional immune system, and such to a healthy person?

I would say this about chemo. Never get between a drug company and a sale... you are sure likely to come out the loser; unless, of course, you are getting a commission or at least a trip to a big golf course.

But at night, sometimes, when I sleep on the front porch and look up at the stars a winking and blinking and I jist lie there and stare off in the illimitable reaches of space, I wonder to myself, if I did not sell my body, how did it come to be that I do not own my own body nohow?

And, how come I am not the one that gets to decide if I want take chemo or eat cabbage if that is what I want to do with my body? You just ast me that? How come?

Can you just answer that?

Please?

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Hey! If you think its tough reading this stuff, you ought to try writing it.