It started with a sore throat..

My voice had always been very strong. As a singer, it was one of my most powerful tools. I had been singing since I was about three years old and nothing gave me more joy than to open my mouth and belt out those high notes long and pure. I sang in church, I sang on YouTube, I sang on apps on my phone, I sang randomly in person; it's just who I was. Everyone who knew me likely knew me because of my voice. It was the one thing I had that was unique about me because it was so versatile and dynamic. There is no one who sounds like me and whenever anyone heard my voice, they knew it was Megan.

It started with a sore throat. I noticed my voice wavering when I spoke, as if I were on the verge of crying (although I wasn't). Around the 11th day of March 2019, I woke up to realize my voice had gone completely hoarse; as if something or someone were squeezing my voice box. It was unalarming at first for two reasons: 1) I am a singer and I talk incessantly so hoarseness is no stranger to me and 2) it was cold season in Florida and I figured it had simply made it's way around to me. Figuring it would go away in a few days, I made myself a hot toddy and paid it no mind.

After a month, my voice still hadn't returned. Presuming it could be something worth looking into, I decided to visit the emergency room and see if they could determine what the cause was, offer me antibiotics, and get me on my way. I had no medical insurance so seeing a PCP (Primary Care Physician) was out of the question. While at the emergency room, I explained that I had lost my voice and it hadn't returned in a month. The emergency department was crowded and the Physician's Assistant seemed distracted and even disinterested, almost as if she believed my situation to not be a true emergency. She gently touched my neck and peeked down my throat and concluded that it was likely laryngitis regardless of the fact that she saw no swelling or inflammation in my throat. She administered a steroid injection to my left shoulder and advised me to not speak for three full days, sending me on my way.

I followed her instruction and didn't speak for the entire weekend. But on Monday morning, I was still hoarse. Being a Customer Service and Sales Manager at a busy auto insurance office, I was not permitted to take too many days off since I had no assistant or anyone else who could do my jobs for me. So, it was another two months before I could see the doctor again. This time I was riding with a friend and while eating some delicious Taco Bell when I began experiencing moderate sharp pains in my abdomen. It didn't feel normal to me and I was frightened a bit because the lymph nodes in my neck had also swollen to about the size of a walnut over the past couple of weeks.

My intuition urged me to go to the doctor. So, my friend drove me back to the emergency room at the same hospital where I complained of being hoarse initially. This time my complaint was accompanied by abdominal pain and swollen lymph nodes in my neck. They took me to the back immediately and ran a few more tests than before. I was instructed to provide a urine sample (they have to make sure I'm not pregnant before they do any major testing so they do not jeopardize the unborn child's life) which came back normal except for elevated leukocytes (white blood cells) which are a part of our body's defense system that helps fight against bacterial infections.

They confirmed that I wasn't pregnant (which I already knew) and my vital signs were all normal but the doctor did take note of my hoarseness as well as my swollen lymph nodes. He ordered an ultrasound of my upper chest and neck area as well as parts of my abdomen where I was experiencing pain in addition to an x-ray of my chest and a CT (computed tomography) scan of my chest and abdomen. It took nearly two hours for all of the results to be ready and when the doctor returned, he was accompanied by another doctor; both with stone faces. As soon as they entered the room and drew the curtain, I knew something was gravely wrong.

The doctor asked who my friend was and if they were able to speak freely in front of her and I advised that it was completely fine. She is, after all, someone I started out as friends with for two years, was in a committed relationship with for the better part of 8 years, and then returned to being friends with. There is nothing about me she doesn't know or hasn't experienced. With that, they revealed that I had two mediastinal masses (tumors) in my chest that were approximately 6-7cm in size. The one on the right side of my chest was pushing against my trachea which was causing the hoarseness in my voice. A cold chill ran up my entire body. I was instantly terrified. What did this mean? What was I going to do? Was this really happening to me? Where did these masses come from? What am I going to do?

My mind was a blur. The doctor advised that they were going to admit me to the hospital so they can perform a biopsy on the mass to determine what it is but he added that they suspected it to be Hodgkins Lymphoma (HL). Cancer. They exited the room and my face was just blank. Me, motionless. My mother had passed away from stage IV liver cancer only two short years ago. Now it looks as though I may have cancer as well. It was surreal; like a nightmare. I didn't feel... anything. I looked at my friend and she was just as shocked as I was. How could this happen to me?

Before long I was taken up to a room and she stayed with me as long as she could before she had to go home. I was, and still am, grateful to her and thankful for her because she has always been there for me through thick, thin, and all else in between. It was difficult to sleep that night. My mind was racing with questions, concerns, guilt. I felt like I had let myself down. How could I have cancer. Me. With all my positivity and optimism and affirmations and belief in the Law of Attraction and all of these good things. How could I, of all people, have cancer? I didn't understand it. I wrestled with it for quite some time before I tired myself out and was finally able to catch a few hours of sleep.

Early the next morning at around 10am I was scheduled to have that biopsy. It was a needle-guided biopsy where a CT scan machine is used to guide the needle into my chest to be sure they do not puncture my lung or hit a blood vessel or any other vital organs while they excise the tissue samples. They used medicine to numb my body and slow my breathing—what is called a conscious sedation. I was awake for the procedure, but I felt nothing and was quite loopy once it was over. They inserted the needle into my chest and removed five samples of tissue from the mass on the right side. These samples were then sent to a lab to be tested so a determination can be made about what they are.

The results of the lab wouldn't be ready for a least a week because it had to be sent to an outside facility and, rather than keep me, the hospital decided to discharge me the following day without a diagnosis and without answers. They suggested that I follow-up with a thoracic surgeon as well as the Broward Cancer Center and continue to check the Patient Portal for my results. I called the cancer center to set up an appointment but I was told that, without a diagnosis or insurance (or a way to pay for the visit), they were unable to see me. The thoracic surgeon's office essentially told me the same thing. What do I do now?

When the lab results were finally ready, they were posted to the online patient portal and I decided to take a look at them for myself to see if I could understand what's going on because when I called the hospital, the doctor wasn't there and the doctor they did allow me to speak with stated they couldn't discuss results over the phone. I would have to get in touch with the physician who ordered the test but nobody knew when he'd be back. Since I was trained to be a medical assistant, I have some understanding of medical jargon and was able to determine, based on the information provided, that the sample was only 53% viable, which was ineffective at producing a conclusive result for whether the tissue was cancerous or not. This was encouraging because it appeared as though I did not have cancer, but it didn't mean I was completely out of the woods as of yet.

My job did not offer health insurance so if I was to see a doctor and get to the bottom of this, it would have to be through a community or government program that will work with me and my budget. So, over the next few months, I visited healthcare offices and providers to see if anyone could help me. But because of how much money I made, I didn't qualify for any of the programs (they are generally 'low income' programs) and I couldn't afford to see a doctor on my salary because, although I made a decent amount of money, once my bills were paid there was not much leftover. All the while, my lymph nodes were slowly and painfully growing on either side of my neck and my voice wasn't getting any better.

After a while, I developed a nonproductive cough and I began to lose weight quickly. I had transitioned over to a ketogenic lifestyle so I attributed my weight-loss to that and not whatever was going on inside my chest. The cough, I figured, was a side-effect of the mass pushing against my trachea but I didn't worry about it. I made my employer aware of my plight and that it could be cancer but nothing official. They were supportive in that they wanted me to get it worked out because they needed me at the office and they needed my voice to be stronger because, at the time, it sounded muted; like I was being strangled. For someone who had such a strong voice before, it was like my voice was only operating at about a quarter of its capacity. It was difficult for people to hear me in the office, over the phone, and in person even from only a foot away.. it was frustrating all around.

My friends and family kept urging me to see someone about it because being hoarse for so long wasn't normal but without medical insurance or the funds to see a doctor, there was nothing I could do except wait. I couldn't return to the emergency room without an emergency (I thought) because it would take forever and I have a dog at home that I can't keep leaving by himself when I have no one to take care of him for me. I made excuses because I thought I had no other options. So, I waited... until October 27, 2019 when I was terminated from my position without warning. This was the beginning of a journey that I would never forget.

I knew that without a job I wouldn't be able to continue paying my rent where I was living and I had nowhere else to go. My mom used to be my refuge during times like this because I could just move in with her until I got back on my feet. But my mother was no longer here.. liver cancer had gotten the best of her and she was in a different realm now. I was on my own and I had to figure this out somehow. The stress was real but I put on my big girl pants and I decided that I would make this work. I knew it would work out somehow and I used that energy to make moves. I knew a couple of people who lived in Ohio, so I began to research the job market and cost of living in Cincinnati. Turns out it was incredibly affordable in comparison to Florida and, although I was terrified, I decided to take the chance and see if I could set myself up to move to Ohio.

I searched for, and found, an apartment right in the heart of Cincinnati near the University of Cincinnati. It was directly in line with my budget and it was gorgeous. I also landed a job with one of the top freight brokerage companies in the transportation industry! They interviewed me over the phone and scheduled my in-person interview/orientation for two weeks after I planned to be moved into my apartment. I was so happy that things were working out. Maybe this is the right path for me.

A friend agreed to take over my lease in Florida because she was living at home with her parents and wanted more freedom. So, I offered her the opportunity to move into my place (since I couldn't take my furniture with me) and simply keep the rent paid on time until the lease renews and then she can simply transfer it into her name. She agreed and on November 15, 2019 at around midnight, my dog (Zeus) and I jumped in our packed up car and headed due north for Cincinnati.

I started my job on December 2, 2019 and it came with the works, including an excellent salary, commission, and full medical benefits. This excited me because I felt as though I could finally see a doctor about what's going on and get a diagnosis and some treatment. The benefits weren't available for thirty days but, in the interim, I was searching for a PCP and a specialist so I could be ahead of the game and already have an idea of who I want to see once the benefits were available for me to use. But because I was unsure if it was truly Hodgkins Lymphoma or not, I wasn't sure which type of specialist to see and I became frustrated, which caused me to pause my search and focus on work instead.

I underestimated how demanding the job really was once the initial phase of training was complete. I passed the test to "graduate" from training and I moved out to the production floor where I assisted on another broker's account. It was a big account that took a lot of attention to detail and repetitive tasks. I loved it, though. I did what I was asked to do and I learned as much as I could—working through the struggles of some truckers not being able to hear me clearly over the phone and even people in the office having trouble hearing me from only a foot away—I knew I needed to see a doctor but I soon realized that missing days during my six-month training period was severely frowned upon. I made my manager aware of my medical situation and was assured that I wouldn't be penalized too harshly for missing too many days but I was also made aware that I had to be at work when I was scheduled as much as possible.

This made it tough for me to decide when to go see a doctor because I knew it wouldn't be a quick situation. I would have to undergo copious amounts of testing and doctor visits regularly which would interfere with my time at work. Frustrated, I tried to think of how to make this happen but before I knew it, it was March 17, 2020 and my manager called me into his office to inform me that I was being laid off, along with approximately 600 other employees, due to COVID-19. He encouraged me to apply for unemployment benefits and wished me well. Although my medical benefits were available to me for 30 days after I was laid off, COVID-19 prevented me from leaving my apartment due to the mandatory quarantine. What do I do now?

In August of 2020, my lease at the apartment was up and it was time to move. Luckily, a friend of mine, whom I met at the job, recommended the neighborhood she lived in. I was approved for the mobile home fairly quickly and signed all the paperwork in time to move in on August 1, 2020. The quarantine still hadn't been completely lifted in the area I lived in and I was afraid to leave the house for anything unless it was absolutely necessary because I didn't want to contract the coronavirus since I knew it would only magnify the issue I was already dealing with and I didn't want to complicate my health any more than I had to. So, I stayed home and I waited. I wasn't working but I was receiving unemployment benefits. Still, I waited.

Right around January of 2021, the cough I had been dealing with this entire time began to be very productive. There was definitely something in my lungs that rattled when I breathed and when I'd cough, it would come up and I would spit it out into a bottle. There were times the sputum wouldn't completely come up; almost as if it had gotten trapped in the top part of my lungs and my body would behave as if I needed to vomit just to get it out. I would gag and wretch and it would finally come up. It was mostly yellowish in color and severely viscous (most times creating a bubble as it left my body a quarter of a cup at a time) and I chalked it up to perhaps a common cold I had contracted. But I truly didn't know.

For nearly a month, I was coughing up this phlegm and it just got worse and worse, especially when I'd lay down. There were times I'd wake up in the middle of the night just coughing incessantly. I'd take small sips of water in an attempt to calm it down but most times it wouldn't help much. Sometimes, after puking up the phlegm, I'd feel severely short of breath and this scared me. At times it scared me so much that I considered calling 911, but I didn't because the news kept going on and on about how the hospitals were overwhelmed with COVID cases and there were no beds for anyone else. I felt guilty going there when there were people whose lives were truly in jeopardy from COVID, not realizing that my situation was just as dire and I needed the medical attention as well. Still, I waited.

I tried to manage it the best I could by drinking tea with Elderberry in it in addition to a tea by Yogi called Breathe Deep. These gave me temporary relief from the coughing and the phlegm and especially the shortness of breath but I knew, deep down, that I needed to see a doctor soon. I began searching for insurance and stumbled upon an affordable short-term individual plan by United Healthcare. I decided that when my unemployment check hit my bank account, I would pay for that plan and begin searching for a PCP so that I can get another biopsy, get a diagnosis, and begin treating whatever this is that's going on inside my chest. I felt good about this decision.

That is until January 28, 2021 when I was at home sitting on my couch after playing video games with a friend of mine and I coughed up and spit into my bottle a glob of bright red blood about the size of a nickel. I had coughed up blood before, but never like this. Before, it was a little pink mixed with the yellow. But this... this was pure blood. That familiar cold chill rippled through my body as if I had gotten the news of those tumors in my chest all over again. Oh shit! Don't freak out. Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe that will be the only blood that comes up. Suddenly my lungs began to feel odd. I knew I had to cough again. Hopefully it will just be phlegm like it has been before and I'll be fine.

I felt like I needed to clear my throat but, when I did, that triggered a cough and, with that, came fluid that was obviously distinguishable from the viscous phlegm I'd been coughing up in the weeks prior. I spit that into my bottle and, once again, it was bright red and significantly larger in size. Now, I'm scared. This is not good. Blood coming from my lungs is certainly not a good sign. I have to go to the hospital. Something is definitely wrong here. I began to freak out. My body went cold and then hot. I struggled to calm my nerves. I fumbled with my phone and decided to play "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley because it always makes me feel better.

My body inclined from side-to-side as the familiar reggae tune began to play and I did start to feel better, but not by much. I was worried. I coughed again.. more warm fluid. I swallowed it down, afraid to spit it out and see more blood. It turned my stomach. Again, my body urged me, "go to the hospital." Okay. Okay. As the music played, I began to wonder who would take care of Zeus (my 6-year old American Staffordshire Terrier and emotional support companion) while I was gone? I didn't know. I began searching for one of the dog-walker apps I'd previously used when I was in Florida but the longer I took to leave, the more urged I felt to go to the hospital. I figured I could work out something for Zeus to make sure he gets walked and fed later on but I needed to go. Now!

I grabbed my phone charger and a bottle of water. I patted Zeus on his head and told him I loved him and I'd be right back, knowing I'd be gone a minimum of three days. It was freezing outside. I let the car warm up a bit, trying my best not to cough because I didn't want to irritate my throat any further and I definitely didn't want to see any more blood; the rawness in my throat seemingly unbearable and making me nauseous. I sip water as I search for the nearest hospital. Bethesda North. So be it. I input the information into my Waze app. It was only 9 miles away, so I started out for the hospital playing "Three Little Birds" the entire time to help me remain calm and centered.

When I arrived, I entered the emergency department and let them know I was coughing up blood. Luckily, the waiting room was empty and it seemed I was the only one there. They saw me immediately and put me in a room. They attempted to draw blood from several places in both of my arms but my veins were not cooperating at all and, before long, they had leaned me backward—on a reverse incline to encourage blood to run to my head—and were attempting to draw from the veins in my neck, which also weren't cooperative. On the last try, the physician was able to get a vein in my right forearm so they could draw the blood they needed and I was thankful because his next step was to go for a deeper vein in my neck and that came with risks I wasn't comfortable with.

They ended up drawing the blood (slowly because my veins were being very stingy for some reason) and asked me for a urine sample, which I provided. They also had a technician from radiology come and do a chest x-ray on me while I explained my experience in Florida and how I'd been hoarse and dealing with this for some time now but was seemingly cast aside because of my lack of insurance and means to pay for the care I needed. The ER physician felt for me. He looked me right in my eyes and said, "insurance or not, we're going to help you." It took a lot for me not to cry because I felt as though the hospital in Florida had been negligent with me. Had they kept me in the hospital and done more extensive testing, we would have caught this earlier and I would have been healed by now. But that's water under the bridge, I suppose. I tried to remain focused in the moment and I was thankful for a physician who truly showed me he cared about me, not whether I could pay for treatment.

When he returned, he confirmed that my x-ray was "grossly abnormal" (something I had already known) and, as such, he ordered them to put me on fluids immediately. He forewarned me that I wasn't going home any time soon but this is something I'd already known and feared. I contacted a friend of mine and asked if he would be so kind as to stop by my house in the morning and just let Zeus out to use the bathroom and put some food in his bowl since I was at the hospital and wasn't sure when I'd be out. He seemed happy to help and told me to keep him updated on my situation. This gave me so much relief. Zeus needs to be let out in the evening as well, though. So, I contacted my other friend who lives in the same neighborhood as me and asked if she'd go to the house and let Zeus out in the evening to use the bathroom and just make sure he still had water in his bowl. She, too, was happy to help and hoped I felt better soon.

What a blessing to have people that actually care about you and are willing to step in and help when the chips are down. I felt such a burden lift off of me and instantly began to feel better. Before long, I was being wheeled down the hallway to have a CT scan of my chest and abdomen done. The Contrast they push into the veins just before the pictures are taken is by no means comfortable, but I'm glad it was done. We were finally going to figure out what's going on, I'll finally get a diagnosis, and then I can begin treatment for whatever this is. They advised it would take about a half hour for the results to be ready so, while I waited, I opened Prime Video on my phone and began watching my favorite show: Spongebob Squarepants.

After some time, the doctor returned and advised that the CT showed the masses in my chest and that they needed further testing to determine if it was cancer or not but it certainly looks like Hodgkins Lymphoma to him. This information was corroborated by the oncologist on staff that night. Long story short, I was being admitted to the hospital once again and no one knew for sure how long I'd be there but they assured me that regardless of whether I had insurance or not, they were going to do everything in their power to help me and that made me feel good.

During my 6-day stent in the hospital they performed all sorts of tests and procedures on me from an endoscopy so they can retrieve tissue from the mass to test, to a TEE because they noticed a thickening around one of the valves of my heart and needed a closer look to be sure it wasn't an infection (this test was unsuccessful because I do not believe the doctor was made aware that there was a deviation in my trachea from the mass and when I came out of the procedure I had severe pain in my throat where it seemed he kept pushing and pushing to get the tube down my throat, all to no avail—I was asleep for the procedure so I didn't feel it until I was awake and it caused me to cough incessantly for the next 2-3 days with tons of mucus), and a different sort of CT scan which required me to drink the contrast (it tasted like a vanilla milkshake) rather than have it injected into my I.V. to light up my digestive tract so they can see more closely if there was anything else that needed to be addressed.

The results of these tests showed that my lymph nodes surrounding my lungs were grossly enlarged (approximately 4x their usual size) and this is why I was having shortness of breath, cough with mucus, and hoarseness in my voice. The mediastinal mass was growing near my lungs and there were nodules on my lungs as well which was the reason for my coughing up blood. Because excising the tissue from the endoscopy to determine if it was cancer or not was inconclusive, a pathologist was brought in to study the tissue under a microscope and determine what it was. In the end, it was confirmed that the tissue is positive for Hodgkins Lymphoma Stage IV (the stage is because the cancer has grown onto a part of my lung).

This news wasn't shocking to me because this is precisely what they suspected in Florida but I didn't know it was this advanced. I could only feel regret that I didn't push for more testing when I was in Florida because, if I had, I could have been diagnosed and treated then and would be in remission right now. It's been said that everything happens for a reason and perhaps the reason Florida dropped the ball is because Ohio was more equipped to provide the care and treatment I needed.

So, I tried, again, to focus on the present moment and deal with the matter at hand. With this new information, different doctors would visit me daily, including a cardiologist because of the abnormality they found in my heart valve and the oncologist obviously because of the cancer, and they would encourage me. They let me know this cancer is curable and that they were poised and ready to answer any questions I had and would help me in any way they could. I am thankful for every person who had a hand in caring for me because everyone—right down to the nurses, PCA's, and even the housekeeping staff—literally, saved my life.

They put me on antibiotics for pneumonia (presuming this is why I'm coughing up yellow phlegm), gave me breathing treatments twice per day, and drew blood regularly to ensure I was stable. I was encouraged to cough up any phlegm and be sure to let them know if any of it was blood so they could address it immediately. After the endoscopy—because it involved scraping the inside of my lungs for tissue samples—some blood was expected to be in my sputum but if it was bright red, excessive, and/or persisted, I was to let them know. And because of the diagnosis, the oncologist wanted to start me on my first round of chemo while I was in the hospital so they could monitor me and address any issues that may arise.

So, on January 31, 2021, a PICC line was inserted into my left arm. A port would have been preferred because the risk of infection is lower and it's easier to access but they couldn't get it scheduled in time and the doctor wanted me to start chemo immediately so the mass could begin to be broken down. Once the PICC was in place, I was given several medicines in succession that are designed to destroy abnormal cells in my body—a.k.a chemo. I didn't experience many side-effects aside from a lack of appetite (but I blame that on being in the hospital too long where all you smell is medicine and sterilization all day and night and all I could think about was I would give anything to smell some Bath & Body Works fragrances) and occasional nausea (which they gave me Zofran for). Lethargy was also ever-present causing me to want to sleep often. But, overall, my body handled it very well.

I was discharged from the hospital on February 3, 2021 with a diagnosis of Hodgkins Lymphoma and anemia. I was given all the information I needed to follow-up with the Thomas Center so that they could draw blood on February 5, 2021 just to make sure my hemoglobin and leukocytes were within normal range since chemo is notorious for destroying these cells as well. Once again, I was assured that I shouldn't worry about how I was paying for it because they were working on getting me some financial assistance. Fortunately, both my hemoglobin and my leukocytes were within normal range when I attended that appointment and that made me very happy because it means the steps I was taking at home to rebalance my body and assist the chemo in healing me was actually working. This excited me!

The doctor did let me know that my cancer is stage IV and that's because of the nodules growing on my lungs. He says there is a 60% chance of curing me and initially those odds seemed too low since I'd read that earlier stages have about a 92% chance of being cured. But once the initial shock had subsided, I realized those odds are extremely high. Also, that percentage is determined by only what the chemo can do and doesn't account for what I can do as far as my diet, meditation, etc., to assist the chemo in destroying the cancer so I can go into remission. The doctor's plan is to hit the cancer hard and fast, even if he has to give me extra nausea medicine, so I can go into remission and live a normal, healthy life sooner rather than later. I told him I already see myself, 6-months from now, living a normal healthy life and he said he saw the same thing for me.

His words made me feel better because he's not paid to mislead me, make me feel good, or goose up my ego. He is paid to give me the news of my condition, whether good or bad, and treat me in the best way he knows how. So, if he says he also sees me being cured and living a normal life in 6-months, then I believe him wholeheartedly. Together, we're going to be victorious in achieving remission for me. I'm sure of it and so is my doctor and that is the type of support I need. He gave me both his cell number and the number for his nurse and encouraged me to reach out for anything I needed be it a question, a concern, or just someone to talk to about what's going on. I felt so good knowing there were people who care about me and are determined to help me get better. It means the world to me!

Since he is a specialist in lymphoma and he is confident that we can beat this, his confidence is infectious to me. So I believe him when he says we can do this. He says my strong mental attitude is what's going to help this all come together and work. My family and friends are supporting me 100% and I'm doing all I can at home to make up that 40% so there is a 100% chance of curing me. My next treatment of chemo is on February 12, 2021 and I'm scheduled to have one treatment every two weeks. There's a chance I'll lose my hair because of how aggressive chemo can be but I'm not concerned about that. Hair grows back. My focus is to go into remission and be healthy again.

I'm a part of a support group on Facebook for people who have/had Hodgkins Lymphoma and their experiences. So many people have had stage IV lymphoma, just like me, and have gone into remission after only 4 of the 12 treatments, even when their odds of being cured were lower than my own. Their stories give me hope and when I read articles like the one by Elissa Goodman where she explains how nutrition helped her to cure her HL, it gives me so much hope that I, too, can go into remission.

This is why, along with the chemo I'll be receiving, I'll be drinking alkaline water and eating foods that promote an alkaline state within my body because—although food and water cannot change the pH of my blood—it is helpful in promoting an alkaline environment which science has proven cancer cells cannot grow or thrive in. I'll also be meditating, listening to healing music (binaural beats and the like), and practicing yoga because these, also, are helpful in adjusting my energetic vibration to promote healing rather than sickness. I believe that both Western medicine and holistic or homeopathic solutions are helpful when used cooperatively in healing the body and, at this point, I am taking all the advantages I can get.

This will be an ongoing journey that I will continuously update. But, for now, this is where I am and my focus is on one thing: returning to a healthy state of being. In my mind, I am healthy and I am happy. I know I am already healed and I am thankful for my healing. My true goal is to be able to sing again. I've already been able to sing a little bit and I try every day just to see where I am. I don't push it because I want to take my time and give my body room to recover. But I love that every day my voice get a little stronger and a little stronger. It just lights me up! Before long, I'll be belting out those high notes again.. back to being Me.