Wayne started by telling us that late in the previous year he had gone to see a doctor and had been told that in about five years his kidneys would fail and that this would kill him unless they were replaced. (Coincidentally, he heard this approximately the time when a tumour would have begun to form in my brain, a few months before my grand mal seizure.) A couple months later he went back for a check-up and his remaining time was reduced to three years by the stress he had from his initial diagnosis. It occurred to him to go and see George. George had him put his own hands on various places around his abdomen and say a few things. After not more than two minutes of this George told him he was healed.

Wayne didn’t know what to think. He went back home, and when he was to see his medical specialist awhile later he wasn’t even going to mention such a thing. The doctor began examining his latest scans and immediately was stunned. “Everything is perfect!� Wayne then told him of his visit to George. The specialist said that his medical instruction was that Wayne go and see this man again. Wayne had gone in for another check-up a couple weeks before we met, and about a year later. Everything was still found to be completely perfect.

Looking back on it, I had already decided to go to George before even meeting the guys that would take me, so when we met and they were ready to arrange everything and really take care of me it felt good. Jennifer and I would have liked for her to come also, but with a couple of young children it was much easier if she stayed home with them. Besides, the trip was only set to be four days and I felt ready for my first one since getting ill.

After meeting the guys, that night I dreamt that Grandfather George was healing me. Because my medications usually prevent me recalling dreams at all, this was powerful for me. The next night, I dreamt and remembered again. Grandfather George and I were sea eagles, flying over the beach and above the ocean. He was on my right. I was two birds, and the lower one I needed to be rid of. I flew both down toward the sea, and letting the lower one go into the ocean I flew back up to Grandfather George and we kept flying out. I later told this to Wayne and he told me that sea eagle is one of George’s symbols. Both dreams made me feel that George had come.

A couple days after the meeting, Jennifer and I realized that we had had the meeting a year to the day since my initial grand mal seizure.

A few days later I decided I was sick of taking the dexamethasone medication that I’d been put on for each operation and for radiation. I cut it far too quickly, causing a day of many, many seizures. Good thing my seizures are kept relatively mild by anti-seizure medications. A doctor gave us a medication that I’d been given the last time I was in hospital. End of seizures and I slept the whole next day. Jennifer asked if she could handle getting me off the dexamethasone—after I got back from the trip. Yes dear. Thanks.

Ten days after the initial meeting the guys and I flew up to Cairns in Queensland, rented an all-wheel-drive, and headed inland into north Queensland. After several hours we camped by a beautiful little river, and as the rainy season very helpfully hadn’t started yet it wasn’t yet flooding. We got up early the next morning and arrived at the tiny Aboriginal town of Laura a couple hours later. Laura is a town of around two hundred people, most of who are Aboriginals. On the road through it is a café, a camping area, a newly done structure containing historical artwork and video. Next to that is George’s house. He wasn't around, although we knew he would be because he knew we were coming. Wayne said that this sort of thing was very normal in his years of experience—hurrying up to wait. We set up our tent very close to his house, and after several hours we saw a vehicle leaving his house so Wayne drove the one minute to see if he was there. A few minutes later he came back and told me that George was there and had said he'd heal me the next morning but wanted to see me right then, so I hopped in and we went to his house.

George was right outside it, and when we walked over to him he looked at me and immediately said that he'd treat me right then. It feels to me that even though he had come back from yet another busy day in which he is involved in the entire Aboriginal system, he sees everything instantly. Looking at me he saw the tumour, meaning that it was to come out right then.

He put a plastic chair down in the yard for me. I sat in it, and looking around saw that there were various animals; roosters, dogs wandering around. They all looked sparkly and beautiful in a way that I can’t quite put my finger on. They all looked perfect somehow.

Wayne asked George if he should leave, as he didn’t know if he should be present for someone else’s treatment. George told him it was fine for him to stay, walked over to a tap outside his house and got a plastic mug which he put a little water into. Then he walked over to me, put the cup on a table I was near, and stood behind me. I couldn't see him, but Wayne later explained what I couldn't see. Grandfather George was passing his hands over my head from front to back, without touching me, and looking very pained and wincing. "Deep, it's deep", he kept saying. Several times he went back to his tap and rinsed his hands, and he also put his fingertips into the top of the cup. He had his fingers wet at times and drew his fingers back from my forehead to the back. "Ah, got it", he said at one point after only a few minutes. He put one of his forefingers onto the top centre of my skull pointing straight down and then stepped away, saying it was done. The tumour was gone. It had taken him about three minutes.

Knowing I couldn't quite see inside the cup, Wayne asked George if I could see it. He put it close on the table so I could. The cup had some reddish-pink liquid in it. It looked like it was maybe on top of the water. I feel that I just can’t recall the colour of it other than bad. George asked if I'd seen enough, and then rinsed it out with more water and put it back with his others. He then said we could come back the next morning to ask questions.

Wayne and I kind of staggered back to our car and drove the minute back to where we were camping. I was feeling very emotional, but about no particular thing. I had Wayne sit behind me and put his arms around me and had a great little cry, merely feeling that I was releasing. Again, as my drugs prevent crying I’m generally delighted when I can.

That evening I walked back past George’s house, found a payphone and called Jennifer—surprising her greatly to hear from me at all—and told her what had just happened.

Wayne suggested that I think of questions for the next day, and I was awake much of the night, thinking of many. As time passed I felt that learning where I am is my own journey and there were no questions worth asking other than one. We all went to his house the next morning and I asked him if I was healed and the tumour was gone. Yes. Gone.

I had brought a large shell Jennifer had wrapped that she had found on a powerful walk she’d taken in northern California years before she and I had met. She had also written him a letter of gratitude and I’d brought some pictures of our kids and us. I showed him all the pictures and read him her letter.
While I was doing that Wayne had gotten my video camera out of the car and he filmed a little of George and I and had him talk about what he had done for me. George also spoke some about healings he has done for others. I was feeling that George was an amazing, valuable man with much to do; he had taken care of me and I didn't want to take up his time, even though he was there, available for us right then.

He did have a busy day ahead, so we soon left and began our drive back to Cairns. Still being the morning on the day before our return flight, we drove back to the shallow little river we’d spent the first night next to. It was such a beautiful spot, and far from anything. Late in the afternoon I took all my clothes off and waded quite a long way up the river, feeling a little Aboriginal myself. Very nice.
That evening, as soon as I finished eating dinner I felt strange briefly. Then I felt strange again—and afraid. I felt that I might have to go to hospital to be checked, but I didn’t particularly know why. The men were completely present, and even ready to pack up and go if I needed to. I decided to lie down on my bed in the tent, and there I asked George for help. I lay there panicky for a while, then fell asleep. Perhaps a couple hours later I woke up as the guys were getting into their beds. They asked how I was feeling. I was feeling fine. I got up and got myself ready for bed, and slept well all night.

The next day we still had lots of time before our flight in the afternoon, so we cruised back to Cairns on the coast, went from restaurant to restaurant around the city, and swam in a pool right next to the ocean before going to the airport. At one point I felt strange in a way like I had the night before, but I knew that nothing serious was going to happen and it passed quickly and easily.

Jennifer picked us up in Brisbane and we snuggled in the back seat while Sambodh drove and Wayne told her all about our journey. Once she and I got home I told her of the two events of feeling strange and that I wondered if it indicated that I no longer needed anti-seizure drugs. We started cutting two drugs slowly that very night, but a week later I was once again having mild seizures and given that either of them could have caused that we reinstated the anti-seizure drug and continued cutting the dexamethasone that I don’t need anyway, but is hard to cut. It will take at least a month to cut it, and then we can start on the anti-seizure drugs to see whether I’d still have seizures. Having had three neuro surgeries I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d continue to have seizures. But I hope not.

A couple months back, I had my first conversation with God. A very brief one. I started by telling God about what I wanted. I don't remember what God said.

A couple months later, I find myself thinking about God a second time. What I write is for you.

I'm a part of God.
Everyone is a part of God. All people.
Thoughts are a part of God. All thoughts.
Beliefs are a part of God. All beliefs.
Animals are a part of God. All creatures.
Everything living is a part of God. Everywhere.
Actions are a part of God. By anything.
Energy are a part of God. All energy.
Countries are a part of God. Everywhere on Earth.
Planets are a part of God. As is the star they orbit.
The galaxy is a part of God. All of them.
Everywhere is a part of God. Across every universe.
Everything is a part of God. Physical or not.

God consists entirely of everything, everywhere.
Everything everywhere consists entirely of God.

Including you.

I wonder if I'll think of God again.

The next morning I felt exhausted and extremely nauseous. Jennifer told me that we had a brief email from an apparently irritated Ariadne asking what was happening. A friend of ours had called her and mentioned that I was healed, and as we hadn't known she was no longer in Australia and didn't know her number we hadn't contacted her. I felt physically wretched, but would have spoken to her anyway. Jennifer wrote her back, explaining that we had received confirmation that her healing had worked, that Dylan and I were sick with a tummy bug, and that I would call when I was up to it. She soon received a very exuberant response saying that it was time to break out the champagne, that Jesus said my nausea was due to shock, and asking us to call when I was up to it.

On Sunday I still felt wretched physically, but up to calling Ariadne. We did, and she passed on more information from Jesus on the healing: "Jesus has assured me that you are cancer-free." She explained that the surgeon's knife creates damage during surgery, and so my anti-seizure medication would still be necessary, as the scar tissue interrupts neural transmitters, causing seizures—and believe me, I'm getting that information in spades, with more seizures now than in quite awhile. I'm physically exhausted by them. Ariadne explained that I needed more time and more healing, and to seek her again. She also said that she'd return to Australia, and as I'm continuously amazed that everything we've needed in this journey has either been here already or come here for us.

Ariadne said that have my life back, and that my "healing path" is to become a shaman. She herself "practised as an awakened shaman for 17–18 years", but now focusses on being an author.

Over the weekend I had barely eaten. Never lunch, perhaps toast for breakfast and a vegetable for dinner. One night Jennifer had baked me a very large potato, and I sat alone to eat it whilst she put the kids to bed. Before I touched it I looked at it and felt to thank it for being food. To my great surprise I was suddenly flooded by love toward… the potato! Okay, I get it! My life is changing, and in a very beautiful way into… something.

On Monday I answered a call from a friend in the States who had gone to see Irene Newmark (something we have never physically able to do, being on the other side of the Pacific ocean) to address her difficulty in becoming and maintaining pregnancy, after reading my journal notes on my sessions with Irene. Irene had told her that the problem was due to all the chocolate she had eaten as a teenager, and that residue was coating her womb. The remedy was to take a series of detox baths, many of which were to contain drinking alcohols. She had called us after the session to tell us that if it hadn't been for my experiences she would have thought it ridiculous, but was going to give it a go. Later she had called to say that she was utterly loving the baths. Now, she said that she was feeling better than she could ever recall feeling—and she's a woman with a heap of energy as it is! As we'd been unable to get hold of Irene to seek confirmation of my healing, she said that she'd call Irene and ask her to contact us. Irene did so on Tuesday morning, and later that day we had our longest session with her yet.

It began by Jennifer telling Irene the story of my being told to get a PET scan to receive proof that my tumour was gone, that we had done so, and that it appeared that the proof was there. What did Irene see? Near the beginning she observed that a low-grade virus was present in my stomach, but it was obviously not worth concern. Irene had shown us her ability to see my physical maladies session over session, so the fact that she could see why I was still feeling tired and barely eating food four days into the bug was no surprise at all.

Irene then searched me with enormous care for cancerous cells of any kind, anywhere at any level, size or in any dimension. She was very thorough and very detailed, obviously being extremely careful. No cancer cells that I can tune into, she said. Knowing Irene, this means there are none. After David Hollingworth's, this is our second confirmation that I am now tumour-free.

She then began searching me for other issues in any dimension. In early sessions she focussed entirely on the physical—at least that she revealed to us. But after Jennifer asked for the cause of my cancer in an early session she had immediately revealed how far the rabbit hole goes. Perhaps because she now knows our trust of her and our willingness and ability to hear it, in this session she went straight down the rabbit hole unasked.

As always, my writing is based largely on Jennifer's excellent and detailed notes—ten full A4 pages this time.

At my Soul Level she found a past-life issue as a 35-year old man. I found this alone interesting as I was 35 when my tumour triggered my grand mal seizure, revealing it's presence. She said the issue has to do with leadership in that incarnation and having been murdered for being a controversial leader, in the sense of "being an outspoken voice for light and being taken out by the dark". This imprinted that if I took a stand I was "going to get it". She said that this was causing residue in my lymphatic system "up around ten" for the past ten days. From that incarnation, on my sub-atomic level, "sort of implosion of your light", "fear of manifesting that strongly and going through that again". She then found something on my psychic level from this past life: "Energetic structure. 11th dimensional structure connected to whatever dark forces were that were responsible for your death. That is there reinforcing thought(?) structure that embodying your light strongly is a dangerous thing to do. Sits above head at 12th chakra."

Irene then returned to checking physical issues, on a scale of 1 to 10:

Brain vitality: 10
Brain functioning: 10

Huh. I must be used to 11 or something, because the old noggin sure isn't in full function.

She then hunted for any cancerous cells, genetic material, abnormal cells, etc., anywhere, finding ~0.05, which she said could a be normal amount of abnormal cells, but that she wasn't sure. Perhaps looking for anything, anywhere even potentially related to cancer, she found something on my sub-atomic level related to something she had found in a previous session; an event in which I was a wife whose husband was killed in war. Irene found a sub-atomic blockage also relating to the 12th chakra (please don't ask me what that is; I need to do research!), "To a knowingness of your divinity or lack of. Trust and knowingness in divinity diminished by 10%." She said that a lack of 100% self-trust could potentially contribute to cancer thought form". Okay, now I have to ask Jennifer what that means, as I was briefly out of the room during that.

Irene then hunted very carefully, "Combing the ethers to find anything to do with even a cancerous thought-form" or "Anything else to do with that small amount of abnormal cells". She found:

Soul level: past life to do with that incarnation… having to do with embodying power… feeling not safe.
Self-blocking of one's creative source… damming up stream coming from cosmos… .5 residue.

She then found an "Outside negative. 12th dimensional entity… has some sort of interfering influence for last six years, creating disruption more on sub-atomic level… an intent with this being's disruptive energy to prevent you from again manifesting your light fully on planet." She then said that the entity was part of "dark forces" from the life in which I had been murdered at 35. Apparently, it had come back to check on me, considered me to be dangerous and so began interfering. Irene then said that we would come back to this shortly.

I listened to this looking out our living room window at the sunlight on the beautiful trees, foliage, and hills outside. So beautiful. I knew—I know—that I was done holding back the truth. No more. This being, whatever it was, was out of here. That game is over.

Irene then hunted for "Anything else conducive to perpetuating cancer in brain or body? Any ancestral stuff?" She found something from my father's side of the family, but nothing on my mother's side. I find this interesting, because my mum's recent family constellation retreat cleared a major issue from her side, about which I have recently journaled. On my father's side, Irene found "Unconscious contracts with less conscious (darker beings) that go back 12 generations to suppress the full embodiment of power, in order to survive".

Cerebral-spinal fluid:
Vitality: 9
Functioning: 10
Radiation residue: 5

From my lifetime when I was some form of controversial leader she found a past-life residue, a "Traumatic death memory… level 5". She said that perhaps there was a blow to my head in that incarnation. Yikes. No wonder we get stressed out, with all this past-life stuff to release. But again, that death will no longer serve any purpose for the killers.

Irene then started to give us information "In terms of unwinding stuff from today", i.e. the various unpleasant past-life issues and an unwanted negative entity. "New beings entered this planet from the first of this year [2005]… created in a different way than anything in our universe… gold metallic in colour, with diamond core… can be in any size, from larger than a star to smaller than an atom… impervious to dark energy… sole mission is to be here and clear the planet of dark energy and negative force fields." She also commented on the situation in this reality being worse than that in any other reality; hence the introduction of the new beings. Clean-up time. Thank God.

She said that already, "Frequency fences have been placed around the planet to block higher beings helping bring in light". I don't understand that note, either. Jennifer?

The gold-metallic beings are called "Light Warriors".

I recall her saying that she had learning this information from another source, and that she did not name the source. I would surmise that she would confirm any such information with her pendulum, and with enormous accuracy. In other words, I believe that Light Warriors are in fact here.

She said that also, it was no longer "necessary to ask permission to clear darkness according to a singular soul's free will."; free will has been dropped or suspended. This is absolutely crucial. Free will has been the single inviolate facet of human existence in what Robert Monroe called (I feel accurately) the Time-Space Illusion. Need I ask how you think this free will has worked? Look at history.

Explaining that there were many billions of Light Warriors, Irene then told us to "Call on a personal team of 500 Light Warriors to help. Ask to have [removed] any and all dark energies from any and all incarnations and through all space and time and through all bodies." I consider this a very effective prayer, worth repeating at least daily. "All dimensional levels 1–12… including parallel realities… any and all aspects of self through all space and time and through all dimensions… clear all entities, ancestral imprinting, etc." Regarding my health, she suggested to "Ask for removal of environmental pollutants. Ask for millions of microscopic Light Warriors to go in and clear out any cancerous cells on sub-atomic level.

She then, by apparently simply silently asking them to do so, had her Light Warriors remove my maladies: "Moved this 12th dimensional entity on already." And stay out. "Cleared traumatic past-life memory of blow to head." Again, if I know Irene, she has already proven to herself that her instructions in such ways have effect, as I have no doubt that she can observe removed what she can see in the first place.

She then recommended some detox baths to address my frequent MRI scans(part of the dendritic cell vaccine trial) and went through my entire list of supplements, removing or adjusting amounts as needed. One funny thing she found, for both herself and for us, was that I was to use a stationary bike. She made no attempt to hide the fact that she had no idea why this was, to the point where she started obviously trying to find out why it was to be a stationary bike rather than any number of other forms of exercise. We told her not to worry about it, given that an unused one must be easy enough to find.

On Sunday night I was up until about 10:30 writing and sending an email to friends and family, updating them on the events with Ariadne. Six hours later I was up again, as it was the very early morning before full moon and therefore the time to take the Tibetan Precious Jewel Pill before the sunlight. We've made a shrine next to the meal table that contains everything that has meaning for us on this journey: images, stones, candles… I had put the Precious Jewel Pill, left wrapped against light, on the shrine until I needed it. When I came out of the bedroom in the night and went to the shrine, I couldn't find the pill. I looked all over—and even under—the table unable to find it. It was the wee hours, I had only just woken up, and I was wondering if Dylan had found it and chucked it somewhere. Suddenly, I saw it on the table. Phew.

One of the instructions for taking the pill was to not expose it to light, by taking it in a room without a window. Without a window? The isn't a room in the house without a window. Jennifer and I had talked about it and she had come up with one of the bathrooms, which had thick window shade. So I went in there and closed them, then sat and internally expressed my Intent for taking the pill. As I felt that the session with Ariadne had in fact healed me of the tumour, but has obviously left damage from the tumour cells, surgery, medications, my Intent was as much about repairing damage as in overall physical and energetic healing.

The instructions also say to put the pill in the mouth and leave it there until it becomes soft enough to chew if it not so already, then to rinse the mouth with warm water. As my pill was some sixteen years old, it was hard—and didn't get softer in several minutes. I began putting warm water in my mouth and carefully swallowing the water without swallowing the pill. It did become soft after doing this a few times, and I was able to chew and swallow the pill.

I then went back to bed, but only dozed. In the morning Jennifer told me that she had spent the time I was doing this in praying, and that she also only dozed afterwards. It was then time to start by checking in with everyone we could; David Hollingworth, Irene Newmark, and Dr. Mirakian the radiation oncologist, as I was still scheduled to start radiation on Wednesday.

On Mondays, Dylan and Chloe have family day-care together. As this is the only day of the week that Dylan goes too, Monday is the only day that we have been able to focus on things together during the day. While Jennifer was taking them there, David Hollingworth returned her call and asked "What's up?". Busting, I told him nothing but that we wanted to see him. The soonest available was the next day. When Jennifer returned I told her that he had called and that I hadn't told him anything. I told her that if she needed to she could call him, busting as I was to tell him everything immediately. But it was obviously worth seeing him in person for, so I cooled my jets.

That evening we received a call from Dr. Mirakian. Essentially, we told him that my PET scan had looked so good that Dr. Laherty had felt that as I would be getting MRI scans every two weeks that we might consider wait for two months before doing radiation. Predictably, Dr. Mirakian didn't like the whole sound of it, saying that he'd hate to have me come back in dire shape in two months. He also didn't know Dr. Mirakian from Adam, and so didn't know whether we should trust him. We told him that we'd think it over carefully, and he said he'd skip the present week for starting radiation. She and I both still felt that I no longer need radiation.

On Tuesday morning I had an appointment with Gerry, the Aboriginal healer. On seeing me, he again hugged me and then looked at my facial hair and accurately observed that it needed some help. I've never before grown a beard, and although it was coming in more completely than ever it was still mainly attracted to my neck. Oh well. Jennifer and I told him that I had decided not to get radiation treatment, and, just as he did when we told him that we would he gave no response. I have the sense that he considers everyone's journey to be their own and such decisions are therefore not for him to interfere with or comment on. I got on his table and he performed his usual initial checks of my status by resting hands on various parts of my body, including my head. He was very happy about my brain, and seemed happy about my overall health and so focussed on general healing and energy levels, as I am usually very tired as if my body is very busy.

My eyesight has become progressively worse since my late teens from a profession (relationship?) with computers, and I had grown to need progressively stronger correction. Jerry had mentioned in an earlier session that he had fixed a relative's eyesight. I wear contact lenses, and knowing that he couldn't work on my eyesight while I have lenses on I had brought a contact lens case and cleaning solution so that I could remove them. I told him that, and asked him if he could also work on my eyesight, but that it was secondary to anything else if there wasn't time. He said that there was always time for everything—or something like that. After working on my head for so long that I thought he may have forgotten, he said it was time for the eyes, so I removed my contact lenses. He began working on my eyes, focussing primarily on my right eye. As usual, he primarily used crystals, a laser, and—I would say—energy via his hands. After he was done he asked how it was, then suddenly observed that I couldn't really tell without something to look at. He got me a CD to look at the cover of. I found that I could read it perhaps somewhat more clearly than usual, but I wasn't entirely sure. I also found that vision in both eyes appeared to be the equal.

During the session, he occasionally showed Jennifer particular crystals and stones. He showed her some little electronic thing and as she looked at it smoke began to come from it and he had to unplug it. She seemed to manage to drop more than one crystal too. At the end of my session he told her to hang on a moment, grabbed her arms and flung energy out of her, commenting that something about it needing doing right then. We all laughed. I feel that Gerry has perhaps begun to really trust us, as he keeps lending us various crystals and stones that have healing properties and explaining to Jennifer how they are to be used on me. On this visit he lent us two quite large crystals to be placed on either side of my head daily. (To my frustration, five days have now passed and we have failed to do it even once.)

That was the end of the session, and I found that he had spent a half-hour working just on my eyesight, making the visit my longest yet, at two hours. He does not seem to consider such things as far as the cost goes; you come, you tell him what you need addressed (and he also tells you what he finds), he addresses it. As I was leaving he suggested that I have him work more on my eyesight. I would like that.

Jennifer and I drove into the nearby town of Bangalow for lunch and I replaced my contact lenses. Within an hour we were fed and with David Hollingworth. I began immediately by telling him the story of my session with Ariadne, the instruction to get a PET scan, and the neurosurgeon's reading of it. TWO WAYS LOOKING There was a nerve-racking pause for several seconds, then he confirmed it: The tumour is gone, with two ways of looking at it: 1) Trust the energy of Christ consciousness and go with it, and 2) Take it at face value from the PET scan's evidence. Jennifer interjected the difference between the MRI and PET scans. He said that it was not energetically present the way it was the last time I had seen him (10 May journal), and that he thought "It is gone… really gone." He said on my last visit he had felt that it was diminishing and very probably to completely heal—both of which I felt myself, although I didn't know how.

I then told him of the dendritic cell vaccine trial. I explained that I had been surprisingly happy to see the container of my removed cells, that I would get MRIs biweekly, and that I felt that there was something for Dr. Laherty in it all too. He said it was fine to do but not necessary, and that I could take a leap of faith. He then said that the radiation treatment, which he had previously felt crude but helpful in my case, "Seems to have gone off the radar" and was not necessary. He suggested doing "nothing right now" except the trial if—and only if—I wanted to. He expressed concern at my having so many and frequent MRIs, as they were "interrupting brain waves and cerebral-spinal fluid", et-cetera. I told him that I felt that I could handle it without damage, and that at any rate I felt that he could help with them as needed.

Feeling that we had covered the bulk of the tumour healing, I then told him I'd taken the precious jewel pill. He started looking off into space and saying "Wow… wow! Oh, wow! Amazing!", apparently knowing exactly what it was doing, as I have come to feel that he is utterly capable of. He then said that it was "really going off inside you" and "reaching into every aspect of your being" and was "very powerful". He further said that it "Seems to have a purifying effect, purifying all layers of the aura and all systems of the body and the being", "taking away debris with it", "like a pyrotechnic fountain going off from down in the belly and moving up". It does sound amazing—and amazingly good—to me!

We then told him that I still have seizures. He said that I need the largest injection of vitamin B6 I can get, as in addition to helping with the seizures it would help restore my ability to recall names and nouns and also set up some resilience and resistance to not only my anti-seizure medication but "Break some connection with the past; past treatment and syndrome with seizures and drugs". He explained that he was not saying that B6 would end the seizures but would begin to break up patterns, and that I still have scar tissue…

[Funnily enough, I had another seizure—my second today—as I wrote that and stopped writing this journal entry for a few hours.]

…and short-circuiting of brain waves. He said that vitamin B6 will help start the process, that the remedy would go directly into the crater, softening scar tissue, thereby keeping it from solidifying. He explained that this was why he worried about the MRIs, and that we need to work on this by focussing healing on it next.

In closing, he told me that it would be good to get exercise; long walks, sunlight, fresh air… and to just ENJOY! As we were leaving, he thanked us and expressed his gratitude for what he had learned in this process of helping us in my (not to mention Jennifer's) journey.

That night was full moon. In the evening I went outside to get more fire wood, as it is almost "winter" in Byron shire, and while days throughout the year are usually very warm—at least—nights get cold in winter. It was absolutely beautiful. There was a ring of light around the full moon behind small moving clouds. As usual, there were ducks feeding on our grass, utterly unafraid of me. I stood and just enjoyed for a few minutes.

On Thursday morning my lifelong friend Sanjay and I had a long telephone conversation and ended up talking about the final Star Wars movie, which was recently released and now showing. (Gerry had told me that he had gone to the opening midnight showing and found it full and so happily waited for the next one a couple hours later.) Sanjay and I found that the first showing was just after midday, and along with our partners Helen and Jennifer we went and saw it. While we all found it to be very good, Jennifer and I were emotionally pretty wrecked afterwards. We realised that we're just too fragile right now for something so intense. As we drove home Jennifer told me that Gerry had explained a simple method of releasing unwanted energy: imagine a swirling horizontal vortex in front of your stomach and exhale unwanted energy into it. She and I both did so on the drive home and did feel somewhat better for it, but I at least was a bit of a wreck for the remainder of the day.

I have begun to be able to recall my dreams again, at least to some extent. This is a great pleasure after so many months unable to recall any dreams at all. One night recently I dreamed of finding reason and reason that I am healed. That is all I can recall of the dream, and it will more than do.

Ever since having ten percent of my blood removed for the dendritic cell vaccine I had again had frequent seizures, sometimes a few a day. As I had had another few vials removed on Friday I was continuing to seizure quite frequently, at least daily. Occasionally the seizures are extremely tiring. My seizures briefly cause me to feel fear and doubt. Having had quite a bit of experience with seizures in recent months, I feel that this is due to affected areas being near the emotional centre of the brain. I would not be surprised if the seizures are also due to healing, given both Ariadne and also the cluster medicine spray made by Monica (10 May journal).

Jennifer had spent the week trying to get hold of a local doctor that we felt would be willing to prescribe the Vitamin B injection, but was unable to. We also tried to contact Dr. Mirakian to tell him I would not be doing radiation therapy—a task we loathed—but were unable to get hold of him either.

Success! We would go to Brisbane in two days, and I would be PET and MRI scanned and get the first injection of the dendritic cell vaccine trial.

Jennifer was later preparing for the trip to Brisbane and was looking at the Wesley Hospital’s web site and found a page giving the hospital’s values:

The Whole Person
We believe that each person is an inseparable unity of body, mind and spirit. We therefore seek to respect and respond to the physical, psychological, social and spiritual dimensions of our patients and co-workers.

Given my exploration of Robert Monroe’s experiences out of the body I’m not so sure about the first sentence, as I feel that we are certainly capable of learning how to journey out of our bodies. But given that my experience thus far is crossing all the dimensions stated in the second sentence I can only agree. We liked the Wesley already.

I answered a telephone call from the radiation scheduling department from a woman calling in response to Jennifer’s message on Friday about pushing the start of my radiation back a week due to the dendritic cell vaccine trial being ready to start on the same day. They had apparently already received approval from the radiation doctor, so we delayed one week. She asked what time was good for me and I told her anytime. She was very apologetic that it would be mid-afternooon. No problem. She said that possibly it could be a bit earlier, but I was unrelentingly easygoing about it. Any time is fine. She was extremely grateful—and apparently surprised that someone was this flexible. She thanked me for being so easy, saying that she wished everyone was, “And believe me, they’re not�. Hey, it’s all good to me. It’s all in a flow.

That afternoon Jennifer and I, along with Tara, went to Ariadne’s open gathering for two hours at Gerry’s house. We saw Gerry right as we arrived and he commented on my new beard (due to my inability to shave due to cold sores immediately after my 10% blood removal). As he had only recently shaved his own full beard I joked that it was because clean-shave was now taken. Then Jennifer, Tara and I joined a small group of people gathered around a fire in Gerry’s back yard with Ariadne. The gathering was about dreaming and interpreting dreams, which was done by people revealing dreams relevant to topics. As I have been unable to recall dreams for many months now, I had no recent dreams on which to participate. At any rate, I was more interested in watching Ariadne. I try hard to drink a lot of water these days—with quite a bit of success—so near the end of the two hours I had to race off to a toilet. When I returned Ariadne and Jennifer were interacting on a dream of Jennifer’s. Ariadne completed her comments on that dream by commenting that Jennifer and I are soul-mates and that in that respect she—Ariadne—was jealous. Much mirth from the gathering.

After the gathering, just before we left, Jennifer and I had a very brief talk with Ariadne. I had the sense that she may have come to Australia to help me, so I asked her if this were her first time in the country. Yes, “But not the last!�. Was I the first person here to whom she gave a session? She thought a moment and then said that I was first on my day, but third overall. Close enough. We then told her that we had arranged a PET scan for me and got no response. She then said that I should start taking courses—whatever I needed to do—to become a healer, teacher/shaman, as that was my soul’s purpose and following it would be what would heal me. This confused us somewhat, as hadn’t she told me at the time that Jesus had healed me? Details. We had arranged my upcoming PET scan and could take it all from there.

While I’m on the subject of Ariadne, I recently wrote of my stated purpose in life during her session but wasn’t sure I was remembering accurately (it’s a problem for me). I’m still not positive what I said exactly, but now think that it was “To be of service to others�.

On Tuesday we heard from Dr. Laherty that one of the tests performed on the cell vaccine had come back inconclusive and that the test would have to be redone. This meant that when we went to Brisbane to get the PET and MRI scans that I would not receive the first injection in the cell vaccine trial.

On Wednesday, Tara came to our house very early in the morning to take care of the kids for the day. Chloe and Dylan both love her and so Jennifer and I were quite easily able to begin the two-hour drive to Brisbane. We had to stop at a hospital 45 minutes north of us in Tugun to pick up my latest MRI scan so that we could provide it to the hospital doing the PET scan, so I called to ensure that they were even open yet. They were, and the woman could not find the scan but said she’d look for it. I told her that we’d be there in about five minutes. When we got there and went in, she handed me the scan immediately and told me that she had almost come downstairs to the parking lot to hand it to me! This is a great country. Jennifer and I had been on a tight schedule and so this made it easy to get back in the car and be heading up the highway again in just a few minutes. We called the Wesley Hospital to verify that they had received the appropriate form from Dr. Laherty, as they could not perform the scan without it and although we would arrive within an hour we would be a little late. They agreed to contact the doctor directly and to call if there were any trouble. When we arrived they had everything they needed and in only a few minutes they called for me and took me in, leaving Jennifer alone for two hours with our PowerBook to finally manage some writing (which will be posted in her journal soon) without being impeded by kids—or me.

I was taken into a room with a comfortable bed and injected with radioactive material. Ah, good times… Then I was left alone for an hour to get nice and radioactive for the scan. Having had to get up very early, I dozed the entire hour. Then the scanner operator came and brought me in for the PET scan—my first. The scanner looked like a giant donut, into the centre of which points a very thin and narrow raised plastic bed. The operator changed the bed for one suitable to a head scan, which was only barely the width of a head at the top. I laid down on the bed and it wasn’t even wide enough for my arms. The operator brought over a big loop and put it over my elbows, so that my arms had some support across my chest and didn’t merely flop down. It was perfectly comfortable. Then he came over with a very wide and long strip of sticky tape and wrapped it around my head and the frame. I took this to mean that I should stay still. He explained that that was exactly what it meant, as there would be two scans and each took 15 minutes, during which I should not move. He said that he’d try to warn me when the second scan would start, as I would be moved by the machine and “That sometimes makes people jump out of their skins!�. He went off to start the scan, and I took the opportunity to have a word with Jesus that this was it: Last chance to heal me so that this thing can see it. The scan itself was essentially unnoticeable. This was quite a change after the many MRI scans I’ve had, which are always very loud with a variety of noises. I remained almost asleep. He came in after awhile and said that the first one was done and that the next would start within fifty seconds. When I was moved I found it completely unobjectionable, and I continued to be extremely still and relaxed. In what seemed a short time the operator came in and told me that I was done and pulled all the various bits and pieces off me. To my great relief, that sticky tape was not very sticky. Dodged that bullet. He began to ask me to wait a few minutes while he checked the scan that had just completed to ensure that I hadn’t moved, then recanted, noting that I had been completely still in the first one already. I grabbed the door to leave the room—and it flung me against the wall! That was an unexpectedly heavy metal door, and I’m either stronger or lighter than I thought I was.

I hadn’t been allowed to eat for six hours prior to the scan and so I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. I was very hungry. Fortunately, Jennifer had brought me a box of various things. Unfortunately, there was an unexpectedly large number of problems: Things appearing ripe but were not, this one not for me… Gah! We had to be at another hospital very soon for my MRI, so I scarfed everything edible while we drove over so that I could make it until we could find something else after the MRI. As with the previous, we had never been to this hospital either, making four that we have been to in Brisbane alone thus far—and there are more. As with all the others, the staff was delightfully friendly, pleasant, and occasionally even playful. The MRI itself was unique, even with the ten or so I’ve had already. It was a GE model, a company I had no idea even made the things. But hey, the PET scanner had been made by Siemens, so there you go. As with PET, you have to remain still during an MRI. But this machine vibrated continuously and I was concerned that I would be vibrating too, ruining the images. When it appeared to be a pause I squeezed the “call ball� you have in your hands during these things and told them that it was shaking me. Yup, it does that. No worries, but the weirdest MRI machine I’ve been in so far.

Now free of Brisbane we headed south to Ikea to pick up a bit for home, as, quite strangely—yet conveniently in the moment—it contains about the only “restaurant� we know in the Brisbane region. So I finally got some food.

When we got home we found that Tara, Chloe and Dylan had had a great day together—to our delight and relief. Tara had driven Chloe to pre-school and she and Dylan had enjoyed it there so much that they stayed for 90 minutes. Tara’s sister is due to give birth to her first child in about five weeks, and so Tara took Chloe and Dylan over to her sister’s house and they all had a great time.

On Friday when we were to go Brisbane again, Chloe was to visit Sea World with friends, so she was all set. Tara came to the house just before we had to leave, delighted to again take care of Dylan for the day. He climbed in her car as soon as we put his car seat in it and clearly wanted to go for a ride, as he often does. Asked directly if he wanted to go for a ride he nodded. So she changed plans, hopped in her car and they took off. Jennifer and I loaded her van to head to Brisbane—and it wouldn’t start. It had played this game a few days prior and I’d got it going, but we were in no mood so we quickly moved to my car, a vehicle that I’ve lent to numerous friends and family members but haven’t driven myself since my grand-mal over a half-year ago. We were off towards Brisbane soon afterwards. We soon received a call from Dr. Laherty confirming our appointment, and I verified that he had received the PET scan. We picked up my MRI from Wednesday on the way, with me being very warmly greeted by a women I recognised as one of the counter staff I’d seen there a couple days ago, even though she wasn’t even working with me. I’m either really darn cute or these Aussies are really darn friendly.

Minutes later we were at the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital, where I had had my neurosurgery. Soon after we arrived in the neurology department we ran into Donna Spooner, the neuropsychologist who had given me a gruelling mental test on 10 February (1 March journal entry) prior to surgery. After our test I had told her some of the amazing experiences I was having at the time and she had been very interested to hear them and we liked each other. At the time she had mentioned that an IQ test had been buried amid the other tests but that she hadn’t yet calculated my score, so I took the opportunity now to tell her that I had been interested to see if I had still had an IQ and she immediately went to get the result for me. She quickly returned with a small piece of paper—right as Dr. Laherty showed up, so we agreed that we’d visit her office after we met with Dr. Laherty.

He started by explaining that when he had been called on Wednesday morning by the hospital that was to do our PET scan, asking him about his approval form, he had actually driven to that hospital and completed a form from scratch! The man is a saint. We then began immediately by looking at, discussing, and comparing the PET and MRI scans. The MRI showed what could be seen as a variety of things: tumour, scar tissue or damaged tissue… the list goes on. The PET scan shows… nothing. The side of my brain that was operated on is clearly different, but there is no appearance of tumour at all. He explained that given the statistical data, ie, certain types of tumours re-grow, the MRI would be interpreted as tumour re-growth and strongly suggest radiation treatment. In fact, because—again statistically—this type of tumour re-grows—but not in my case, mark my words—radiation is generally done around the affected area as a preventative, regardless of the PET scan.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

We then turned to my first dendritic cell vaccine injection. Dr. Laherty presented a very small vial containing my blood cells along with tumour cells so heavily irradiated that they are harmless and would be dead soon. Seeing the vial immediately felt like seeing old friends. I held it and silently expressed my intent to it, and he then injected it under the skin in my stomach, which wasn’t too bad. This didn’t stop me from making friendly jabs at him about it. He then produced a very large syringe and announced that he needed to take enough of my blood to fill it by about three quarters. Oh, man… he had taken fully ten percent of my blood almost two weeks ago! This earned him more friendly griping from me, but didn’t actually bother me too much. He then said that I was number 13 in the study. Apparently anticipating possible fear about this number from patients, that he had looked this up in numerology and found that it meant change. Mate, you better believe it! No fear from me.

After a very long, informative and enjoyable—needles notwithstanding—session with Dr. Laherty (later, Jennifer told me something that I had not known, which is that he’s a neurosurgeon) we found Donna in her nearby office. She handed me a five page neuropsychological report that she had written on me after our session, commenting that these were generally not given to patients but that she felt that I’d be fine with it. She then told me my IQ score: 110. 75th percentile, baby! Wow. That’s pretty good for a person whose brain is being a bit recalcitrant. After we arrived home that evening I kicked myself that I hadn’t asked her if she could estimate what my score would be without the difficulties presented by the tumour (assuming any difference). I also look forward to reading her report on me.

We began the long drive from Brisbane back to Byron in rush hour—on a Friday. Every day supplies more reasons why we live where we do. While Jennifer wrestled to get out of town (apparently a popular goal), I suggested that we called my mum, as we have a mobile with a speaker-phone. We quickly had her on the phone and explained—after I deliberately tormented her a little with small-talk about weather and traffic, knowing she’d be busting for news—that, as predicted, the PET scan showed what the MRI did not: no tumour. She burst into peals of laughter. Long peals. So long that Jennifer began to cry, but with joy also. After awhile, my mum revealed that her mum, Dulce, my sole remaining grandparent, who lives with my mum, had suddenly commented on the previous Saturday night—at the time apparently apropos of nothing—�It’s amazing how Peter has healed so miraculously�.

On Wednesday evening Sanjay came over and he and I decided to go and see the movie “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy� in Byron Bay the next day. He and I had both read all the books when we were kids, and Sanjay seems to remember it all quite well. It would be the first time I had been to a theatre since I became ill. The next day he came over and had lunch with us and we drove into Byron—only to find that the show times had changed that day, and—of course—the one we were there for was history. It had been a fairly cold and rainy, which is unusual for winter in Byron as it is usually sunny in winter, but we decided to go to the beach and to climb the overlook that looks west back towards Byron and to Mount Warning and Mount Chincogan above Mullumbimby, our home. I couldn’t recall ever seeing so few surfers in the water and the sets looked so good that I was sorely tempted to return to our land and get our surf gear—never mind that I haven’t been able to surf since becoming ill. Sanjay was rather more restrained and present, no doubt due to his awareness that if and when I passed out he was the one who’d have to try to get me back to land. So we climbed the overlook. And once there we lost all interest in a movie. Along with the handful of surfing humans was a massive pod of surfing dolphins. Every break had dolphins surfing its waves and there were still limitless waves going un-surfed. We watched and enjoyed for as long as we could until I became just too cold. Never mind the fact that almost everyone in town was wearing shorts or skirts and short sleeves; I’m thin and I get cold—even in Byron’s so-called winters.

On Friday Jennifer called Dr. Richard Laherty (which I’ve earlier misspelled as Loddi) to check his progress in preparing the dendritic cell vaccine trial for me. Soon after Ariadne had told us that I needed a PET scan I had felt that he was the doctor with whom to discuss the possibility of getting one, so Jennifer brought that up too when he returned her call toward the end of the day. To the former he said that he had completed preparing the vaccine minutes earlier and that all that was required was that it be checked on Monday. Regarding PET he said that while they did make very pretty and detailed pictures they would not provide additional information. In short, he shot it down. This left Jennifer and I disappointed and myself in particular confused, as I had been sure he was the person to talk to about it. What now?

As my cell vaccine trial injections would start in days Jennifer also attempted to have my radiation postponed so that we could start the cell vaccine trial as much earlier to radiation as possible, as David Hollingworth had suggested. This would also give us a little more time to find out how to get a PET scan. But she was unable to get hold of anyone related to the radiation schedule and so nothing happened.

That day I had been exhausted and quite cranky, and remained so sporadically through the weekend. I was getting up in the morning and having breakfast, and then by ten feeling wrecked and going back to bed. I was having the first outbreak of herpes that I had had since before becoming ill, but I was not yet putting two and two together. My fatigue and erratic temper were making me distrust whether Jesus had in fact done anything to help me during my session with Ariadne. On Sunday morning I got out the instructions for the anti-seizure drug and read the section on side effects. Fatigue was one of them, so I began to wonder if this was the cause. But that evening Jennifer pointed out that the problems could be effects of the herpes—something that I hadn’t had in so long that I had completely forgotten. Actually, I forget lots of things now, but anyway… I realized that Jennifer was probably correct.

I told David of various recent strong events. He found them all extremely interesting, but with the purpose of our sessions being to focus on health, some of them were merely a distraction. Jennifer’s notes on his comments on my experience after my mother’s family constellation retreat are as follows: Simply let her do her thing; some may be relevant but a lot may not be. The experiences are powerful, so I have to be careful and cautious with taking it on. Remember that her path is her path. The power of her experiences can take a toll on me and do have some effect so take care.

Well, given that I soon found myself with a vision of being in a vintage combat aircraft with pain in my chest, perhaps he knoweth of that of which he speaks.

He was very excited about the Tibetan pill that I received from Joseph a week ago, commenting that it was good, really powerful medicine from a place of wisdom that is deep and to my advantage, and that the pills contain their creator’s joyous presence and so will contain whatever he is doing now, even though they were made more than fifteen years ago—“pretty amazing�. He wanted to me to ask Jacob if he can save another for me in case I need it in future, but I find myself highly unwilling to do that. Joseph knew to give it to me and did so. Right now, I can only trust that if it is right for me to have another he will do so, as frightening as this may be for me. And anyway, I haven’t even taken it yet due to all the side effects of having my blood removed!

David felt that the dendritic cell vaccine trial was still worth doing—good thing, given the ten percent of blood it cost me! He wants me to start radiation two weeks after starting the dendritic cell vaccine, as we will then know what strength radiation would be needed, and for how long. He was hoping that between the dendritic cell vaccine and the Tibetan pill that I may be able to get off the problematic anti-seizure medication, although he was unsure when. He felt that an “electronic block� around the tumour caused by the tumour itself and by the surgery was what was creating the seizures and that the block had not yet shifted. He feels that once this block is un-jammed—which he is sure can happen—that I would no longer need anti-seizure medication.

He finished by commenting that fresh air is important to me—good thing we live in Byron—and that I have sensitivity around the brain and so I need less radiation intensity in general. “Peter is not the average Aussie bloke.� Too right, mate.

Not long ago after one of my sessions with the Aboriginal healer, Gerry, he told us that a very good shamanistic healer—“one of the best in the world�, I think he said—would be arriving soon and did I want a session? Yes. Yesterday morning was the appointment, perhaps her first since arriving Down Under and getting over jetlag a bit. Jennifer and I dropped Chloe and Dylan off first thing in the morning at a place where they have day-care once a week and, naturally late already after trying to get the kids sorted out, we quickly raced down to Gerry’s house where we met the healer, Ariadne Green. She was alone in the house, Gerry and his wife being out. She and I started off being goofy with each other right at the front door, very pleasantly. She said that she wanted Jennifer to sit outside around a fireplace while she started with me and that she would bring Jennifer in later. She kept alluding to things that she had learned about me while talking to her American Indian spirit guide about me before I arrived. She and I went into Jerry’s room in which I have all my sessions with him. It’s full of all manner of crystals and tools, and we joked about its maleness and its Jerry-ness, with her patting a little handbag and saying that she had everything she needed in it. I lay down and then began to fret that I wouldn’t be able to remember things adequately without Jennifer present and taking notes, as she does so well. Ariadne was clear that I was to be alone and that she’d repeat anything necessary to Jennifer later.

Ariadne began, referring to God in female form. I liked that. Throughout the session she did quite a bit of singing in another language—Hawaiian?—and having me repeat things after her. She said that one of the entities with whom she works —who I think is/was perhaps a Lakota Indian—shared a past life with me and that he and I were good friends. She said that she and I had also shared a life together, as priests. She also told me that she had been jealous of me because of my closeness to God. She later asked for my forgiveness of her for this and I forgave her easily and sincerely. She explained that those present were Jesus Christ, Mary Magdalene, the Lakota Indian and another whose name I don’t recall. She had me close my eyes and tell her what I saw. I struggled to remain focussed and present. I saw two colours and with great difficulty named them (names + my tumour = difficult). She was pleased by that, saying that I had not one, but two animal guides present to help me. She then asked me to tell her what I was seeing. After struggling briefly I began to see something involving my father (I think; I can’t even recall what it was, only that it was something that had previously been brought to my attention) that made me begin to cry. She said that that was something else and explained to me what happened: When I was six I saw my father kill my mother but did not understand that it was a past life event and so I did not trust my father for two years. She said that this was the root cause of the tumour and that had I also suppressed my very strong ability to See. She then had me state my purpose in life. Immediately, I said, “To assist others� (again, I am not certain that this is exactly what I said but it is close). She was immensely pleased by this purpose. She asked Jesus to remove the tumour, and then pronounced me completely healed.

She then had Jennifer come into the room, and explained to her what had transpired and that Jesus had cured me by removing some very fine tumour strands. We told her that I was scheduled to start radiation in the next couple of weeks and she told us to get a PET scan first to prove to ourselves that the tumour was gone. We explained that I was already to get an MRI prior to starting the dendritic cell vaccine trial. She went silent for a minute and seemed to be communicating with someone unseen. She then reiterated that a PET scan was necessary. She also stated that radiation treatment was unnecessary but that I will live either way, as I have important things to do.

She then said that she needed to do a session on Jennifer right then. We protested that we had to go and pick up our son Dylan very soon, as his coughing had awoken all the other children the week before. She said that she could do a quick version and started. I was present throughout. I cannot recall many details, but I recall that she reiterated to Jennifer that my life had an important mission and that she was to support me in it. On our ride home Jennifer told me that her time outside at the fireplace had been very powerful and that her entire family had appeared to her and that she had shed many tears. I had cried a lot throughout my session, which is always a great pleasure in itself as my ability to cry has been suppressed by medication for so long now. When we got home I was energetic all afternoon and quite wired that evening. Dylan was extremely wired at length that evening and both Jennifer and I felt that it was due to our earlier sessions. She and I stayed up talking quite late, so its something of a miracle that I managed to write and post yesterday’s journal entry. We both feel that Jennifer can now show her full power to me, something she admitted not doing previously in case she frightened me. I have come to learn of Jennifer’s power and abilities and I am not afraid of my beloved partner.

The age—six—that Ariadne had stated as the time of the root cause of my tumour is half the age of the events that Irene Newmark’s told me of earlier. I have no memory of seeing the past-life event now or of my memory of it as a child. If I recall correctly, Roger was my father in that event also. I think that perhaps I had the same mum too.

We will have to look into the possibility of my getting a PET scan. On the one hand I feel that an MRI adequately shows my remaining tumour. On the other hand, in for a penny in for a pound; she clearly specifically asked that question and received the response that PET was necessary. If I am to trust the session at all I should trust that too.

This morning I was fretting at one point about what I would do next if I were in fact healed. I then remembered that Ariadne had explained that Jesus had healed me; therefore, pray to him daily. I did so immediately, asking what to do if I were healed. The answer was immediate: Write the book. I had to laugh it was so obvious, as did Jennifer when I told her. Of course I am to write the book. This book.

A couple weeks ago, my mum celebrated her 60th birthday by doing a family constellation retreat. Immediately upon her return from her retreat she called me and told me of several events in it that she found momentous. A few days later she sent me an email detailing the session. I did not read it, feeling emotional and that I needed to be clear before I did so. As a backdrop, my birth was induced in the Princess Margaret Hospital in Perth, perhaps a week before my “due date�. She and I have shed many tears over this inducing over the years, and when my sister was born two years after me my mum changed everything and did the birth her way. During the retreat she discovered that my birth had been induced for a reason: to save my life.

One of my ancestors, Maurice, was a mining engineer born in New Zealand. He was killed at age 42 in France during World War I. He appeared to my mum in a vision during the retreat and told he what he was doing. She realized that he did not know he was dead. She explained his death to him and he turned and walked away into Light. When she could barely see him anymore he turned and waved at her. She realized that unborn male children had died in our family lineage to support Maurice ever since. Had I not been induced early I also would have died in the last week before birth. This is why my birth was induced early—to save my life.

Robert Maurice Stubbs
1876–1918

As I told Gandhi this story on our drive home I became very upset and began to cry. I have told this story to a few people before but had never become so emotional. So when we arrived at my house, instead of having lunch I immediately had Jennifer come with me to our bedroom, as I felt that she could help me discover what was coming up for me. We sat on our bed and I made myself comfortable. I then had a sharp pain in the right side of my chest, roughly between the centre and the nipple. Suddenly, I was in an airplane. It seemed to be a single-seat fighter plane, like a Spitfire or a Mustang. I was flying at night and it was quite dark. I could not see well out of any window, but I could see some of the cockpit. I think my right hand was on the joystick. The vision rapidly ended and I wondered aloud to Jennifer if I was Maurice reincarnated. She then suggested that we do a Gestalt Dialogue, something that I had never previously done but have heard of. She had me ask questions aloud and, without judgement, say whatever I heard. She was very helpful at guiding me as to questions to ask. Later, she noted the session:

Q: What/Who are you?
A: I am you. (lots of tears)
Q: Do you want to tell me something?
A: We are fine. (more tears and a bit surprised) (pain much dissipated by this point)
Q: Do you want or need anything from me?
A: No. Enjoy.

After that, I knew that I was ready to read my mum’s email about the event and then to journal this. I read the email and found that my mum had experienced the exact pain in the chest that I had, only she knew what it was. Maurice had been shot in the chest, killing him. When I tried to journal, I started to find some problems that I could not understand. I had thought that Maurice was a pilot in World War II, thereby explaining why I found myself in an aircraft earlier in the day. But she had noted World War I and his birth and death years in her message to me. So I called her that night and we discussed it all for almost an hour. Maurice was a foot soldier, not a pilot, and he did die in World War I, not II. I had him confused with someone else: Jack, my mum’s mother’s brother. Jack was a bomber pilot in World War II. He was shot down and killed over the ocean north of Africa on his first combat flight. At the time he was killed, his sister, my grandmother Dulce, was three months pregnant with her first child, my mother’s oldest sister Mary Lou. I always saw a picture of Jack at my grandmother’s house because she was so close to him. On the night—in Australia—that Jack died, his mother dreamed that she saw his plane on the ocean. Two men put out an inflatable boat and paddled away from the aircraft. No one else got out and the plane sank. She woke up crying in the middle of the night and told her husband that their son was dead. He tried to calm her and told her that everything was fine. Soon afterwards they received the notification that he had been killed in action. At the time, the very existence of inflatable boats was classified. After the war, two men visited them. They told them that they had been on their son’s plane when it was shot down and what had happened. It was precisely what she had seen.

But during my conversation with my mum I found that I had not earlier in the day been in his experience either. I had been in a fighter plane, but he had flown a bomber. And yet I had simultaneously experienced the pain of Maurice’s fatal wound from a war during which there were no air combat planes of the vintage of the one in which I had found myself. I still do not know with whom I spoke in the Gestalt Dialoue session beyond the direct answer that it was I.

Well, if you think this is weird stuff, wait until you hear about the session I had today. And you’ll have to wait, because I have to sleep.

Yesterday Jennifer and I got another opinion on the applicability of chemotherapy, as suggested by Dr. Mirakian during our initial meeting with him on 15 April. It was a good appointment, and to our delight the doctor concurred with previous opinion and does not feel it worth considering until looking a scan taken a month after radiation is complete.

I’ve been pretty fragile lately. Dylan hit me in the back of a hand with a hard book recently, causing me to be a wreck for awhile. I’ve been so fragile these past days.

A month or so ago, I met with a doctor who interviews people who have filed for disability pension with Centrelink, as Jennifer had filed an application for me. Recently we received a response from Centrelink saying that the application was denied because my treatment is not complete and my condition is not stabilized. In other words, anything could happen. This was some of the best news we had received regarding my condition and we were so pleased that any “denial� about the application itself was utterly trivial. They had us come in for an appointment on 26 April to see if we had any questions or disagreed (none of either that I recall) and I told the interviewer how pleased I had been by the denial, given the previous dire prognoses I’ve received.

The next day I had a session with Gerry, the Aboriginal healer. It went half again as long as usual—about ninety minutes—and Gerry says I’m doing well. I had a fairly strong pain in the right side of my head near the end of the session, and Gerry worked to address that. As always, I found the session to be very enjoyable and positive.

Last week I received an email invitation to a concert performed by Joseph, whose employer I had done consulting for years ago when I was in the U.S. He hadn’t known that I was no longer there; hence the invitation. I replied, wishing him well, and as my emails now include the address of my web site he found out about my current medical journey. He then wrote me a very beautiful email offering me several lovely supportive things, including a pill created by a Tibetan doctor. I replied thanking him and asking for information so that Jennifer could either research it or pass it on for a volunteer to research for us. He replied, supplying some web sites containing information. Jennifer saw the email before I did and after asking whose Joseph was, read me his own comment on the medicine, in which he explained that the pills had been made by the Tibetan doctor in total darkness during a six-month retreat. Sixteen years ago he had given Joseph some of the “Precious Jewel Pills�, saying that Joseph would know when to give them to others and that they last essentially forever. Jennifer and I both knew that no research was needed, but I was worried about how he could get the pill to me, worried about it a strange pill being put in the mail and causing undue consternation with Customs. Yesterday, Monday, it was already here, and I was immediately extremely excited. It came with instructions which I skimmed, Joseph having already given me some. The first thing that caught my eye was that it could be stored on an altar until ready for use, and so I added it to the altar we have in the house for my healing—well out of reach of the kids. Other instructions that he had given were that it be taken on full or new moon, never exposed to daylight, and that a female must not see it. Jennifer had read this, and so had simply handed me the package when it arrived. The next appropriate moon is the new moon, in five days. As I’m pretty sick with a cold right now, Joseph says I may need to wait until the full moon. We’ll see, but I remain excited. I feel strongly that there was no mistake in Joseph’s inviting me to something I could not attend, just as there was no mistake in my reply which stated nothing about myself, only good wishes for him and a signature giving my web site. That was all we each need to do to get the ball rolling, and this ball makes no mistakes.

Another thing that arrived in the mail with this was a medicine from the other side of the world, England. It is plant extracts, salvestrols, that are being found to be highly effective in some people—about one third—in fighting cancer. Jennifer was told of a women who failed to respond to all the usual treatments—surgery, radiation, chemotherapy—but after twelve weeks of taking salvestrols was given the all-clear. I started taking it immediately. It either works or it doesn’t, but I agree with the English doctor Jennifer discussed it with: “Well worth a shot�.

That evening—last night—I was home alone for a little while and started thinking about my mum. I began to carry the phone around the house. Guess who? I only answered “Hello� out of habit; “Hi, mum� would have been fine and I knew it. I trust this sort of thing more and more. The truth is out there.

Jennifer and I have been on the trail of getting my dendritic cell vaccine trial started for around three months now. We had met the young doctor running it, Richard Loddi (sp?), back on the 14th of March (journalled at the time) and he has been trying to get me added to the trial ever since. Lacking any response from the board he finally recently asked the neurosurgeon who had performed my neurosurgery, Dr. Walker, to approve my being added to the trial. This is necessary as, being young, he lacks the superiority while Walker does not. So I’m in. Finally. The two doctors seem to be talking about me about more than that, as Loddi knew recently that Walker had not yet received my most recent MRI. Actually, Walker has since received my current MRI and compared it with the previous one and sees no need for further surgery at this time. Phew. Walker also reiterated that he wanted me to get radiation soon, and it seems that I will. It feels like the thing to do, even as I want to as little as I wanted surgery. Jennifer and I had sat down during the day together and one after the other stated our feeling about the radiation. It is surprising—again—how in sync we are—again—regarding an upcoming major medical undertaking that we had not recently discussed our feelings about together. We both feel some trepidation about the procedure, but that the danger of waiting is more severe. We also feel strongly that we have an amazing team in place—both physical and non—to aid us in dealing with any problems usually caused by the radiation. We had also felt that the unexpected way in which we had been led to the radiation oncologist, Dr. Alex Mirakian, was a good indication that he was the right man for the job.

So now Dr. Loddi was ready to take my blood and get started, and Dr. Mirakian was ready to prepare the radiation procedure. The only minor glitch was that they were both ready on the same morning at almost the same time, over an hour’s drive apart. We arranged to start with Dr. Loddi in Brisbane first, early in the morning. This meant that we needed to spend the night in Brisbane again, and so Chloe spent the night with her friends Chiara and Rosa while Jennifer and I drove to Brisbane in the night with a sleeping Dylan. Jennifer was very tired on the late drive, and so to arrange distraction I tried to get my mum to call us on our mobile phone. She did, but mainly to say that she was stated the cost upon dialling from overseas and that it was more expensive to call the mobile. From some countries it is, from others not. So she and I made each other laugh briefly and then I returned to the task of trying to distract Jennifer on the two-hour drive. I told her stories about how I used to read Hunter Thompson’s classic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to friends on camping trips and always purchased any used copy that I found and gave them away. (This was very popular, as I yet again own no copy despite buying countless copies myself over the years.) Telling these stories put me straight into my difficulties with names. First I struggled to recall Hunter’s. Then the book’s. And on and on. It must be good exercise, but it is certainly trying.

We finally arrived at a hotel quite late, with Dylan waking up right before we found it. We were all wrecked and Jennifer was exhausted. I understand my illness sufficiently that I know that I can safely put the lives of myself, my family’s, and other drivers with my own driving. But this does not make it legal and I understand and respect that. So Jennifer drives to exhaustion.

Very early this morning we hopped out of bed and got ready to go to the hospital. The hotel bed had taken care of my back (he says facetiously) and I was stiff as a board. We went straight (me literally) to the hospital at which my awake craniotomy had been performed—home sweet home—and met up with Dr. Loddi. He took a painful stab—hey, add it to the list—at my left elbow with a huge needle to get the ten percent of blood that he needed but it rolled off the vein. Another painful stab at the right and I was pouring blood down the line. Ah, good times… He wisely didn’t talk about how large that needle is compared with others until after he had removed it, but they are apparently about as thick as needles get. I had two brief spells of dizziness but then we were up and away, as we had to drive over an hour to get back to Tugun near the New South Wales border. Dylan blessedly fell straight back to sleep on the drive, even though he had had adequate sleep and had only awoken not that long before. Chloe brought us all another cold recently and it has our whooping cough flared up something fierce, which is probably why he was as wrecked then as Jennifer had been on the drive up.

On the drive down I started to get a cold sore on my lip—something I’ve not had in a long, long time. Jennifer can’t recall my ever having had one. Shortly after that I started to get one on my nose. Now, this is something I had once when I was about twenty, so talking about a long time… Apparently, having that blood removed has a certain side effect—at least as far as cold sores go. Damn.

The initial session preparing for radiation went well. Everyone we met in the staff was great. They were squeezing us in to the schedule, given our predicted inability to arrive on time, they did so happily and rapidly. A net mask was made over my face, a CAT scan (the only one I’ve ever had previously I don’t recall because it was when I was unconscious after my Grande mal), a conversation and we were out. Dr. Mirakian looked a little pained when I mentioned that we had been suggested (by David Hollingworth) to start radiation after blood work starts, but agreed as long as we didn’t delay for that four weeks. We should have the dendritic cell vaccine ready to start in a couple weeks. (Sorry, mate. You’re a good sport.)

We then returned home with me hungry, crabby from the outbreaks on my face, tired from loss of blood, and with a painfully sore back. After I had lunch I went and had a nap that lasted all afternoon. When I woke up our lovely new cook, Tara, gave me a massage that perked me up considerably.

And here I am. But not for long. It’s past midnight now and I’m re-wrecked. But I got this journal entry written after too long with none.

Good night.