Loretta asked me why she had gotten breast cancer since there was no one in her family who had this kind of cancer. She didn’t realize that up to 85 percent of all cancers are related to environmental factors.

Epidemiological studies, which look at health outcomes and disease prevalence in different groups of people, have shown that people who move to the US from countries with low cancer rates end up with the same high rates of cancer as found in the US.

The statistics on cancer rates are sobering and point the finger directly at the environment. One hundred years ago, one in twenty people developed cancer. In the 1970s, it was one in ten. Today it is one in three.

Your genes are not your destiny—except in a few rare conditions. Even if Loretta did have a family history of breast cancer, the mutated genes that we inherit from our parents simply predispose us to have certain conditions. In order for a gene to actually express the condition, something external needs to turn that gene on. In the case of cancer, some of the many external factors that can facilitate the genetic expression of cancer include chemicals, heavy metals, radiation, plastics, unhealthy diet—and even one’s emotional state.

Conversely, healthy lifestyle changes can aid in turning off the expression of cancer genes. Even simple measures like eating broccoli sprouts, cruciferous vegetables, and turmeric can make a difference. This phenomenon of external factors turning the genes off and on is called epigenetics. When I spoke with Loretta in 1995, this exciting field was just emerging.

Loretta assured me that she had implemented all the changes we had discussed. She said she felt fantastic and that the low-grade anxiety and depression she had experienced most of her life were completely gone. She asked if there were other changes she needed to make.

Below are more of the lifestyle guidelines I gave to Loretta:

–Avoid tight-fitting bras, especially ones with under wires that impede circulation. Consider going without a bra if your breasts are on the small side.

–Avoid antiperspirants because they can increase the risk associated with toxic metals, such as aluminum, which can have an effect on the activity of estrogen. Sweating is an important pathway for eliminating toxins. Non-toxic deodorants are acceptable.

–Remove from the home substances made from toxic chemicals such as pesticides, solvents, fabric softeners, detergents and laundry products derived from petrochemicals, air fresheners, moth balls, scented candles, and new building materials and furniture and carpets that outgas dozens of chemicals. (For more details, refer to the book I co-authored, Prescriptions for a Healthy House)

–Spend time in nature. It’s one of the best ways to reduce anxiety, lift the spirits, and breathe clean air.

–Do whatever brings you joy.

–Listen to classical music throughout the day to help calm the mind.

–If possible, get daily sun exposure on a large area of skin without sunscreen for about 15 minutes a day when the sun is high in the sky. Vitamin D cannot replace all of the substances supplied by the sun. Avoid getting sunburned.

–Be sure to get enough sleep at night. Sleep is when the body does most of its repair and restoration.

–Make your room completely dark at night. Light inhibits production of melatonin that, in turn, can increase the risk of breast cancer, based on a study done by the National Cancer Institute.

–Radiation can damage the DNA. Keep your cell phone off your body while it is on. Minimize your exposure to radiation-based medical scans like mammograms, CT scans, and dental x-rays. Limit your exposure to radiation from cell towers.

In 1995, cell towers were not a big problem. With the proliferation of cell towers more recently, we have data from studies mostly done in Europe that prove that cancer rates rise significantly among people who live the closest to cell towers.

–Exercise on a daily basis. Studies have shown that, once you have cancer, exercise can reduce your chance of dying from it by up to 50 percent. Yoga is a gentle way to get exercise, while calming the mind.

Staying fit helps oxygenate the cells, enhances overall circulation, and raises the endorphins that make us feel good. In addition, movement of the body helps the lymphatic system clear toxins from the body. The lymphatic system is passive and relies on the contraction of the surrounding muscles in order to function most effectively.

–Maintain a spiritual practice; it can help put one’s trials into a bigger perspective and can have a deeply calming effect. The practice could include doing something you enjoy in service to others. It takes the focus off one’s own distress and can provide a deep sense of purpose.

–Meditate for 20 minutes twice a day as a way to find peace in the present moment.

–Although affordable genetic testing was not available when I treated Loretta in 1995, now I would suggest getting genetic testing to use as a guide in customizing the treatment program.

–I advised Loretta to avoid using hormones when her menses stopped and to rely on acupuncture and Chinese medicine to help her through menopause.

Loretta said she was already doing most of the things on the list and proudly described each change she had made. She had already gotten rid of all her toxic possessions and turned her home into a sanctuary, with classical music that played in the background. She walked almost every day in a nature preserve along the Rio Grande in Albuquerque, went to a yoga class twice a week, took Epsom salts baths on days she wasn’t doing the sauna, and read inspirational literature before going to sleep at night. She heard about mindfulness meditation and signed up for a class. She also decided to take singing lessons. She thought it would be a good way to express the joy she felt at just being alive.

At the twelve-month check up, the tumor felt soft, non-fixated, and was less than an inch long. Loretta continued her regimen with enthusiasm. She had no complaints.

At the fourteen-month check up, the remaining tumor felt like a lump of scar tissue, about the size of a pea. I suggested that she return to the breast surgeon in Albuquerque and ask him to remove the tiny mass. It would be a simple procedure. The surgeon would make a small incision, scoop out the fibrous mass, and then stitch her up with one or two sutures. Keeping her chemical sensitivities in mind, I assured Loretta that the local anesthetic would not harm her since it is similar to what is used in the dentist’s office, which she had tolerated in the past.

I asked Loretta not to mention my name to the breast surgeon because I did not want to draw attention to the fact that I had not followed the “standard of care” with her.

Two weeks later, Loretta called me with panic in her voice. She said, “I forgot and did something bad. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Dr. E.” I had a hunch what she was referring to. I asked her to start from the beginning and tell me the story about when she went to see the breast surgeon.

Loretta went to the scheduled appointment. She sat on the exam table waiting for the surgeon, covered from the waist up in a paper gown that was open at the back. The surgeon walked in the door and said he was glad to see she had come to her senses and was ready to get proper treatment.

Loretta proudly announced her cancer was gone. She said she just wanted the remaining scar tissue removed. With a look of disbelief, the surgeon asked her to lie down so he could check her breasts and her lymph nodes. He looked perplexed as he palpated the right breast. He walked over to his desk to re-read his notes in the chart from her last appointment, and then walked back to the exam table and checked her breasts a second time. He told her that in rare cases tumors disappear on their own, a phenomenon called spontaneous remission.

Loretta protested that it was not spontaneous remission. She had worked very hard at making the tumor shrink. She described all the lifestyle changes she had made, the supplements she took, and the diet she carefully followed.

The surgeon frowned and gave a look of disgust. He asked her where she got her information. Without thinking, Loretta said “from Dr. Erica Elliott in Santa Fe.” Although he did not know me, his response was, “She should be reported to the medical board.” Loretta asked why. “For endangering your life.” Loretta pleaded with him. “But she saved my life.” He scolded her for pursuing an “unscientific” protocol.

Fortunately, the surgeon agreed to remove the remaining fibrous tissue and send it to pathology for analysis. Loretta left his office deflated and full of remorse for having revealed my name.

I waited for the axe to fall. Nothing happened. No letter from the medical board asking to review my chart.

Since that episode, I have managed to avoid being in similar situations, with a few exceptions. Typically, the cancer patients I see usually choose my methods as adjunctive treatment to the “standard of care,” or after the “standard of care” has failed—which means there is no danger to my license.

I followed Loretta once a year for several years until she moved out of state. She did monthly self-breast exams—up to 70% of breast tumors are discovered by self-palpation—and yearly MRI scans of her breasts. She chose to avoid mammograms due to the radiation exposure. (At a later date, I will blog about the benefits and pitfalls of mammography, a very complex topic without easy answers.)

Seeing Loretta thrive gave me enormous pleasure and reminded me how fortunate I am to be able to be of service in a meaningful way to those who are in need.

I wish I could end this story here and say that Loretta rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after. But I need to tell you the whole story. Telling the whole story can involve messy and complicated information—not always what we want to hear. But it’s real life.

When she reached 60, Loretta retired from teaching, sold her house in Albuquerque, and returned to her hometown in Iowa so that she could take care of her ailing, older brother—her last remaining relative. He suffered from complications related to late-stage diabetes.

A few months after she moved to Iowa, I called the number she had given me to check up on her. Her voice sounded flat. She said she was having a hard time adjusting to being back in Iowa and felt like she was in a foreign country. She no longer had any friends or family there except for her brother who was not doing well and required constant care. She predicted he would die soon.

She confessed that she was off the anti-cancer diet because it was “too hard to find healthy food” where she lived. She stopped exercising and stopped her walks because the parks were the only places “in nature” for her to walk and they were heavily sprayed with herbicides. She felt deeply discouraged. When I asked her to consider moving back to Albuquerque after her brother died, she said she didn’t have the energy left for another move. She did not want to get a dog or see a therapist or do any of the other suggestions I made. I said I would keep checking in on her.

The next time I called her number, the message said the phone had been disconnected. Her email address had been changed as well. I knew something terrible was happening.

A few weeks later I received a handwritten letter from Loretta. The envelope had no return address. The writing was barely legible. She said that after her brother died, she sunk into a paralyzing depression and lost her will to live. She asked that I not try to find her; she was ready to die. She wrote, “I’m so sorry to let you down, Dr. Erica. You did so much for me. I felt how much you loved and cared about me. I’m so very sorry.” Her signature followed.

I lay my head on my folded arms at my desk and cried. I knew all too well what it feels like to be at the end of one’s rope, in the deepest despair and awash in hopelessness.

It was no surprise when I got the news a few months later through the grapevine that Loretta had died. Her cancer returned with a vengeance and spread throughout her body. Her death came quickly.

I mourned her death, imagining her loneliness in the last year of her life. I comforted myself with the thought that she got to experience exuberant joy and optimism during her twelve years of radiant health. Those were twelve really good years—before depression, isolation, and hopelessness took her down.

This loving-kindness meditation is for you, dear Loretta.

May you be safe and protected.

May you be happy and peaceful.

May you be free from suffering.

And May you love and accept all of who you are.

 

And may you rest in peace.

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Note to Readers: Although these last three posts address breast cancer, the general principles I discuss apply to all cancers. Please feel free to share these posts with anyone you feel could benefit from this information. As one reader pointed out, the cancer treatment protocol serves as a cancer prevention protocol as well. That’s certainly true. Here’s to your good health!