Posts Tagged ‘cancer’

Illness and Responsibility

Saturday, November 5th, 2011

Why do we get ill? No doubt the answer is often complex, and it is a mistake to think there is just one single cause when very often it is a combination of factors. In Traditional Chinese Medicine these factors include inherited imbalances, poor dietary choices, climatic factors, lifestyle issues and, not least, emotional difficulties. Most of these things we can influence, for better or for worse. This then raises what may be a controversial question. If we are ill, is it our fault? On the one hand, if we tend to answer yes to this question – maybe we eat badly, or avoid exercise, or keep ourselves trapped in a long-standing state of anger or anxiety – this can lead to guilt and even self-loathing, which will only make matters worse. On the other hand, if we bristle with resentment at the very suggestion that our suffering may, in part, be our own doing, we can settle down into the role of the helpless victim.

Thus, especially if we have a serious and chronic illness such as ME or cancer, we need to work out our emotional response to the question, “Why me?” This response needs to avoid the extremes of, on the one hand, beating ourselves up about it all and, on the other, of taking up the role of helpless and resentful victim. In fact this is an issue which every human being has to face, as every one of us reaps the consequences of how we have lived, and few of us have lived like an angel or a sage. Most of us have made mistakes, and have to live with the consequences of those mistakes, whether those consequences manifest as illness or in some other way.

So what should our attitude be to the past? Perhaps we need to acknowledge it, and, in the context of illness, acknowledge the ways in which we may have contributed to our getting ill. However, we may instead say that we have not the faintest idea why we are ill. This is especially so when our health system is so technical and specialised. How can we, a mere layman, understand why we have the illness we have? Something is going wrong, and we do not understand it, and do not understand why it is happening. This may tend to put is in the victim camp.

On the other hand, perhaps we can free ourselves from the shackles of technical medicine, and use our intuition. The more self-awareness we have, the more likely our intuition, or even our common sense, will tell us why we are the way we are. If I go around all the time in a constant state of fear, with my shoulders hunched up, is it not possible that I may end up with a headache or an arthritic neck? If I am always angry and frustrated, is it not possible that my blood pressure gets too high? If I always gobble down my food whilst doing something else, not chewing it properly, is it not possible that I will get some kind of digestive problem, like a stomach ulcer or acid reflux? In some ways the illness we get may be giving us some kind of feedback as to how we have lived our life to date, and if we endeavour to be receptive to that feedback, we may learn something crucial about ourselves.

Traditional Chinese Medicine is often very helpful in helping us to understand why we are ill in the way we are. For instance, it makes useful connections between different emotional states and the way they affect the individual. For example, it says that anger makes Qi rise. (Qi cannot be easily translated, but means something like ‘vital energy’) This means that anger often causes symptoms in the upper body, especially the head and neck – think migraines, headaches, tinnitus etc. Of course everyone gets angry from time to time, but problems arise when we become habitually angry, or when we repress or deny our anger. Prolonged sadness, on the other hand, depletes the Qi, and may especially affect the lungs, leading to shortness of breath, fatigue, a weak voice, even asthma.

Of course these kind of ideas need not to be applied too literally, but they give us a clue, give us a framework to ponder on the connections between our emotional lives and our illnesses. Perhaps they can stimulate us to become more sensitive to the way that emotions manifest in our body – if we are really aware, we can begin to feel how, for instance, excessive worrying is tying our Qi in knots.

If this kind of process leads us to acknowledge that our illness may in part be due to how we have lived, then , knowing that we cannot change the past, we can come back to the present, where we do have a choice. That choice may not include the option of freeing ourselves totally from the consequences of our past actions, but it does include the choice to live in such a way as can at least mitigate the effects of the illness, at least to some extent.

Labels, medical and otherwise.

Tuesday, August 30th, 2011

Last week a patient of mine told me that her GP had diagnosed her with mild depression. (Evidently mindful of the advice of Sir William Osler, the so-called father of modern medicine, who said that one of the first duties of a physician is to educate the masses not to take medicine, this GP told her he was not going to prescribe anti-depressants because he thought she could sort it out herself without their help.) Now you might think that being told you are depressed would in itself be a bit depressing, but not a bit of it. The lady in question sounded really rather pleased. Pleased that she now knew what was the matter. Mild depression.

This is a common experience. We don’t like uncertainty. We don’t like to be in the no-man’s land of an undiagnosed condition. After all, if doctors can’t find a handy label for us, we might start to wonder if there is really anything wrong with us at all; or we might start to wonder if other people are thinking that we are malingering. Furthermore, we might start to fear that perhaps we have got some really dreadful illness, that we are really only months away from death. So I can see why this lady was pleased and relieved. Bumping into an acquaintance in Tesco’s, she can tell them unequivocally “I’ve got mild depression”. And whatever you think about mild depression, it beats the hell out of cancer, multiple sclerosis or heart disease.

I’m reminded of another patient who came for treatment for an occasional achy numbness in her limbs. She’d had various investigations which had ruled out things like multiple sclerosis. Acupuncture, as one might expect, proved pretty effective at relieving this mysterious pain, but she still had the occasional relapse. However, she remained worried that she did not have a clear diagnosis.

Or rather, she was worried that she didn’t have a western medical diagnosis. It wasn’t too difficult for me to give her a Traditional Chinese Medical diagnosis, but, somehow, that didn’t reassure her. I guess if she bumped into someone in Tesco, telling them she had ‘Damp Painful Obstruction Syndrome’ wasn’t going to cut much ice. Like many people, her assumption was that conventional medicine is the real medicine, and any other form of diagnosis does not really count.

I’m slightly suspicious of this craving for certainty, for a label to attach to ourselves. Labels, after all, are our creations; they are not part of the fabric of the world. And as the second example mentioned may make clear, they are relative. If you live in a different culture, with a different medical tradition, you get a different label. And labels also change with time. Bear in mind that, apparently, the label ‘heart attack’ (or, rather, ‘crise cardiaque’) was not used in French medicine before 1968. Presumably if you collapsed in Paris in the early 60’s, complaining of pain in your chest, you would have been given a different label. And of course there are plenty of people for whom there just is not a suitable label. People are it seems far more complex, and pathology is far more complex, than any system, any language even, can quite cope with.

In Traditional Chinese Medicine we have a saying: “Same disease, different treatment” which means that just because ten people have the same label, it does not follow that they will need the same treatment. One person’s migraine (or, in Chinese medical context, one person’s Pian Tou Feng, which might translate as ‘unilateral head wind’) is not the same as another’s. One person’s mild depression is certainly not the same as anothers’. Medical practice needs not to be too foxed by convenient labels. If we think, this treatment worked for that person who had migraine, so we will use it on this one, we might be making a mistake. We need to look beyond the labels (although what we will find, perhaps, is more labels!).

Anyway, I would suggest that we should maybe loosen our desire for a nice convenient label. In the Zen Buddhist tradition, there is a saying (they are full of wise sayings, these orientals!), “Small doubt, small awakening; big doubt, big awakening; great doubt, great awakening!”) Which perhaps means, in effect, that a refusal to categorise and label everything in a nice tidy way allows for openness to a broader, more satisfying experience; an awakened experience. In pressing for a label to fix on ourselves, whether a medical label or any other, we may deprive ourselves of the full richness of what being human is. Humans can’t be tied down and packaged up in a label. They are too complex for that. Sure, labels are useful, but only up to a point. If there isn’t a suitable label for us, maybe that is no bad thing. If your medical practitioner, after doing all their diagnostic stuff, can’t tell you what you have got, and assuming they are not just incompetent, it might not be such a disaster. Welcome the uncertainty. Welcome your uniqueness. Maybe it is telling you something important about life.

‘Fighting’ cancer or other life-thereatening diseases

Sunday, July 11th, 2010

I was just reading a Telegraph article today entitled “Socialising with others ‘can help fight cancer’”. The headline led me to ‘put pen to paper’.

From my clinical experience, one of the most prevalent causes of disease, whether it be a bad back or whether it be heart disease, is the unconscious refusal or inability to freely and honestly express ourselves as we truly are. The most common example of this is in the work we choose to engage in to earn a living.

The whole idea of recovering from a life-threatening disease, like cancer, being a ‘fight’, I find difficult to get my mind round. My appreciation of disease processes is clearly influenced by my style of medicine, Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) with its range of therapeutic techniques, such as acupuncture. TCM is holistic in its approach to healthcare. Holism states that body and mind are inextricably linked so what happens to one will have an inevitable knock-on effect on the function of the other. Holism understands that disease is not some random, chance occurrence that we have little or no control over. Even geneticists attribute only 25% of our state of health to our inheritance. My own personal experience of scrutinising my state of health, and intermittent fall from good health over the years, has yielded a clear connection between this and my thought processes. Scrutinising the health of thousands of others in my professional capacity, and studying research and the clinical experience of others far more experienced and talented than me, has corroborated my conclusions.

Gradually, modern medicine is starting to fully appreciate the huge influence our state of mind has on our health. This is really well summarised in Adrian Leader and    book “Why do People get Ill?” ), available from our online shop. Literally, we are what we think. It is becoming increasingly evident that our thought processes create our diseases, whether they involve physical or mental symptoms, or both. We can say that our heart condition has been brought on by working intensely under stressful circumstances for a prolonged period of time, but what thought processes have led us to work like this in the first place. For example, if during our upbringing, we have thought, for whatever reason, that we needed to ‘achieve’ in order to gain ‘acceptance’ or ‘love’ from our parents, then this might have trained the habit of ‘flogging’ ourselves in our work life.

Holistic healthcare is about helping each individual bring their unconscious motivations into conscious awareness whilst using tried and tested techniques to facilitate recovery from the current disease-state. We do this by stimulating the body’s own, already amazingly well-equipped self-preservation systems. When an individual understands their disease process as part of who they are, they see that there can be no ‘fight’ against cancer because the cancer is a part of them. There is no external ‘enemy’ to fight. They have literally created their circumstances by their thoughts words and deeds in their life to date. Therefore, the only long-term, sustainable solution is through new thoughts, words and deeds. So, in my mind, self-understanding is the key. As far as I can see, achieving self-understanding is a process, often long and arduous, which is why we are often well-advised to seek external help when experiencing a life-threatening disease state.

The word ‘fight’ often implies a struggle. Because of the negative connotations this idea holds, this is just likely to make the process of recovery that much more difficult. So, I believe that our best chance of survival is to embrace the symptoms we are suffering as messages sent from deep inside us as an aid to reaching fullness. This way we can utilise the healing power of love, love of our self and the people around us and of life. Being diagnosed with a life-threatening illness is probably one of the best wake-up calls we will ever get in helping us to express ourselves as we truly are. So let’s embrace it. Or, as the motif on one of the Tai Chi students in my class says: “make tea, not war!”