When I was 19, I had a cyst the size of a grapefruit removed.  After being released from the hospital, I was sleeping in a single bed in my old childhood bedroom when I awoke to be turned onto my side.  In a sleepy state, I pushed myself back down onto my back and once again I was pushed onto my side.  This happened a few times before I either chose to give up or could no longer push myself back down.

Laying on my side, staring at the pink floral print wallpaper, I felt an intense energy within my reproductive area.  This energy expanded out and I knew at that moment everything was going to be okay.  I was half asleep, it had finished, and I was back on my backside and drifted off, thankful.

A few days later at the follow-up consultation, the gynecologist said that the surgery was successful, and the cyst was, thankfully benign, unfortunately, the ovary that the cyst enveloped could not be salvaged.  Pausing, he went on to say that he also took samples of my cervix, and I had grade 3 cervical cancer, which was the highest grade in those days.

He had finished explaining the situation and I just didn’t believe what he was saying, I was not in denial, I just didn’t believe it was true.  I had never thought about this being a part of my future and didn’t see it fitting with some plans that I had made to travel.  My silence led him to carry on with the recommended next steps which I politely declined and said that it would have to wait until I got back from my trip.  He explained the complications and dangers of such a decision and had me book a consult for when I got back.

As I traveled, I would look up at the stars on a clear night and talk out loud about how I had my whole life ahead of me and I looked forward to it.  I thanked the stars for always being there for me and for the cancer not being true.

On my return to the gynecologist, the new results came back with no signs of cancer, he was bewildered and I smiled.  I continued to have clippings every 6-12 months depending on my travels and location for a few years until I moved on from having those done.

I look back at this and I wonder.  Did it have anything to do with my mindset?  Did it have something to do with that experience?  Was it both? 

I sometimes surprise myself with how I have dealt with things and other times it is a self-made struggle.  Not believing that cancer was a part of my future, is a hard practice to duplicate across life, being young and fearless helps. 

I do not question why me, and how come not another, because I can not justify any of the concepts.  Maybe it was me who healed myself.  Maybe it was because I believed and asked.  This overrides all my other tangents because otherwise the thoughts around how and what this world is, points to being dependable on something, dependable on the medical system, dependable on a spiritual miracle healing.  I think I would rather depend on myself for all of my outcomes, not something or someone else.