In retrospect I see that I had put a lot of hope and expectation into alternative medicine. We worked hard and diligently with many facets of healing; physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. Hope became my traitor. I lost my center and deep disappointment followed.

My spiritual belief system fell apart after Peter's surgery in July. I have spent many hours in a bleak and empty landscape since then realizing how mysterious this existence is and how I really don't know from my own direct experience very much about who I am… who any of us are, and what life is really about. I have had strong beliefs but… I hit an existential crisis in a big way. I have felt incredibly rageful at times and incredibly empty at other times. Even though I have had many strong and direct experiences of something beyond the physical in my past I even have to question the origin of those experiences. I actually feel quite positive about this crisis. Empty though it may appear I feel closer to discovering my own truth rather than borrowing others' belief systems. I am okay with hanging out in this space. After a nudge from Peter's mum, a long talk with Faisal and a big cry and catharsis with our new friend, Wayne, who took Peter to Grandfather George, I feel softer again and the frozen tundra seems to be starting to melt. Surrendering to my lack of control without falling into resignation, centering in the present moment and focusing on that which I care about with out being blind to the impermanence of life seem to be key for me right now. I don't know what exactly God is but I sense that if there is a spiritual origin from which we come that I would receive understanding and compassion for my process. I still pray for guidance even while questioning existence. Something is changing and maturing in me though I can not say what yet… it seems like an unfurling of my mind's desperate need to know and control life.

Peter wrote in his last email to you that I wanted action again and set things in motion for him to go to Grandfather George. My interpretation is different. I sat with Peter one day in the midst of trying to figure out if I had fallen into resignation regarding his prognosis or if I were in surrender and being real. I expressed to him that although we have primarily been on the same page during this journey my process was mine and his was his. We did not need to merge. I didn't want my loss of faith in the alternative realms to stop him from persuing something he may be interested in. When he told me he had never forgotten about Grandfather George I immediately got on the phone. A day later we met Wayne and less than two weeks later Peter was with Grandfather George.

Peter is doing quite well right now. He has been surfing twice in the last ten days. He hadn't been surfing since the beginning of his illness. Throughout this journey Peter has continuously amazed me. He has such a positive attitude coupled with a depth and courage that astounds me. He is also one of the most honest people I know. I feel blessed to be his intimate partner. Life together certainly hasn't been dull.

Peter will be turning 37 on 3rd December. Last year he got the brain tumour diagnosis on 1st December. It was a teary and frightful birthday. This year we celebrate the fact that he is still with us and focus on enjoying every moment we have left together. Peter is focused on making that several more decades! I don't know what the future holds but I support Peter, life and all the mystery with as much of my heart as I can muster.

Peter's birthday brings me to another topic. Our dream of building a home on our land. He has been promising you an update. I offer one here.

When Peter wrote and put out his intention for building a home and coupled it with asking for donations toward that goal I felt very awkward. I know (as does Peter) that most people are financially strapped in today's economy. We all have goals we are working toward. But I also felt that Peter's dream should be known and that my discomfort was mine to deal with. I saw that I am not the only person with awkwardness around the issue of money. It was apparent in the fact that much fewer people responded to Peter's email than usual. Prior to that any time either of us wrote an update we were flooded with responses within a few days. That was a bit of a low point for Peter. Not because he expected money but because contact was broken. I say this because I want everyone to know that what matters most to Peter and me is our connection to our community. I hope for Peter's sake that your written expressions of good will and friendship will keep coming and helping him through this journey.

That said here is a report on what is happening with the house goal. Our goal is to gather a down payment of at least AU$50,000 (US$37,000). So far, between current deposits and promises of friends and family we have AU$22,000! Just about half way there! I am continuously amazed and deeply touched by the generosity that floods our life from our global community. Thank you for all the ways in which you have enriched and supported us. People have been amazing in their offers. Some who haven't a lump sum to donate have set up deposits on a monthly basis over the next year. Others have donated ideas and or their time in areas of expertise such as building, accounting, legal advice, etc. Also friends who may not have an area of expertise in terms of home building have offered their time in other arenas and have waived their fees toward supporting our declaration of home building. Others periodically send an email to let us know we are cared for and prayed for. All of the above is so supportive. We human beings are pretty amazing.

I have been getting some inquiries as to what Peter might like for his birthday. What he wants more than anything is help toward home building whatever that may look like.

If you have made or plan to make a donation please email us if you haven't already and let us know it is from you. The bank statements only show deposit amounts NOT whom the deposit is from. We would like to be able to say thank you. Our bank account info is on Peter's web site: http://www.peterlalor.org.

Chloe and Dylan are doing very well. We hope you and your families are also well and enjoying the holiday season.

Thank you again for your care and support.

Much love and many blessings from the eternally grateful partner of a beautiful and courageous man,

Jennifer

At the beginning of this year, a month after my initial biopsy, I received an offer to take me to an ancient Aboriginal who can heal, often known as Grandfather George. He had been told of my diagnosis and prognosis, and had told people they could bring me up to him in far northeast Australia. Being so early in the journey and hunting around the world for neurosurgery, we didn't do it.
A month ago, having already put into place everything she could find, Jennifer hit a point of wanting action again. I had never forgotten the possibility of seeing Grandfather George. She immediately called the man who had told us of him, and he arranged that the very next day we'd meet him, Sambodh, and a local Aboriginal, Wayne, so that he could tell us about George, as Wayne himself had been cured of a terminal illness around the time my own started but hadn't yet revealed itself. Looking back on it, I had already decided to go to George, so when we met and the guys were ready to arrange everything and really take care of me it was easy.
Jennifer and I soon realized that we had had the meeting a year to the day since my initial grand mal seizure.
Ten days later the guys and I flew up to Cairns, rented an all-wheel-drive, and headed inland into north Queensland. After several hours we camped by a river, then got up early the next morning and arrived at the tiny Aboriginal town of Laura. Grandfather George wasn't around, although we knew he would be because he knew we were coming. We set up our camp very close to his house, and after several hours we saw a vehicle at 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 hopping in and we went to his house.
He was right outside it, and when we walked over to him he looked at me and said that he'd treat me right then. He put a plastic chair down in the yard for me. I sat in it and he went 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 pained. "Deep, it's deep", he kept saying. Several times he went over 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 centre of my skull pointing straight down and then stepped away, saying it was done. The tumour was gone.
Knowing I couldn't see inside the cup, Wayne asked George if I could see it and he put it close on the table so I could. The cup had some reddish-pink liquid in it. George asked if I'd seen enough, and then rinsed it out with more water. He then said we could come back the next morning to ask questions.
Wayne and I drove the minute back to where we were camping. He suggested that I think of questions for the next day. I was awake much of the night, and as time passed I felt that there were no questions worth asking other than one. When we went back the next morning I asked him if I was healed and the tumour was gone. Yes. Gone. Wayne filmed a little of George for me and had him talk about it some, but 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 his time, even though he was there, available for us right then.
He had much to do, and we soon left and began our drive back to Cairns, spending the night again by the river where we had spent it on the way there. We could have done the entire trip in only three days, so we had an extra day of travel and cruised around.

I have had neurosurgery three times, costing much memory. Will it restore itself? I am on anti-seizure medications that greatly limit my emotions. Would I still have seizures without them? Jennifer and I are slowly reducing them to see if they are still necessary. At some point we will try to get a scan to see what it sees.

The journey continues…

On 1 July I physically managed to get my regular biweekly MRI scan in Brisbane. Two weeks later on a Friday I couldn't even get out of bed and Jennifer managed to get me back to Brisbane for a scan that showed that the tumour was suddenly back and big. I was barely conscious and the hospital put me back into the neurosurgery department where I'd had my brain surgery in February and put me on a steroid to reduce swelling in the brain. This was so effective that by the time of the emergency repeat surgery a few days later on Wednesday I was back, clear, and ready for the first time in a month. The surgery was done by the same excellent neurosurgeon who did my previous surgery with me awake and present. As that had gone flawlessly he knew that he could do me asleep this time, which he did. That evening after surgery I was in Intensive Care, which is standard after operation. After weeks losing weight I was finally hungry, thanks to the steroid and the removal of most of the tumour. They gave me good food on request. And again immediately. :-)

Soon Jennifer and I were visited by a lovely and skilled surgeon who'd just been switched to be the assistant of the neurosurgeon only two days before my surgery and she was a part of mine. She was very nice and very clear--and had to tell me that she'd dropped a small section of my removed skull! It was put into cleansing fluid, but the neurosurgeon didn't want to take the chance of it becoming infected later so he opted to use metal instead. So now I have a metal bit of skull! No problems at all for me.

Again I healed so quickly that they let us go back home after only three days! I was feeling great. Once home I found that I slept less each night and even in the wee hours I'd chat with family and friends overseas who were in their local daylight times. I quickly came to the point of sleeping only two hours a night and although I'd lay down in the day I'd never even nap. I came up with amazing ideas night and day. On Friday the 29th… I went crazy. I could see the universe soul, mind, body--you name it. Jennifer called the surgeon to describe what was going on with me and was told to get me back immediately. On our drive I perceived everything in multiple ways and felt that I had complete perception of everything. I couldn't explain anything clearly to Jennifer, who managed to get me back to Brisbane to the emergency room our fastest ever.

In Emergency all the neurosurgery specialists came to see me. I told them that they needed to do all kinds of scans to see that I was magically healed. They listened to everything I said, and quickly and quietly cut the steroid that they had given me as it happens that I was having a rare side effect called steroid psychosis. By Monday I understood that my sanity had been totally messed with by chemical reactions and lack of sleep (wasn't that done in wars?), and I'm again grateful to the experts by it being fixed along with so many other things. They are excellent. I had my very first radiation that day, at another hospital in Brisbane. I have to remain on a maintenance dose of the steroid for the duration of radiation therapy but it seems OK.

That was five weeks ago. I've had five out of six weeks of radiation and really, really enjoy it--a thing I was opposed to earlier! It feels really good, really positive. After a few days of radiation we re-saw a medical oncologist. This time, he felt that I should take the new Temodal chemotherapy medication. This time, we felt the same way. I started that the next day, and as with radiation I find it very helpful and with very minor negative effects. (Temodal is the latest excellent American type of chemo for brain tumours. $2600 for five pills. As usual in Australia, the government pays almost all. We pay $5. :-)

The 90% of the tumour removed again, this time has left a loving, happy guy. The removed part had some nasty energy or something and I'm very happy if the hospital flushed it down a toilet. I feel great--in some ways better than I have since my first neuro surgery and in some ways better than most of my life. There are side effects from the surgery, but they are the same as occurred after my initial grande mal seizure; increased difficulties with names, nouns and memory. People's names do not come to me regardless of how well I know them. The few exceptions seem to be those I have known really well since we were kids and a handful of people I met as an adult who are very close to me. The reverse is true when I hear someone's name; I usually know who it is. With nouns, I really struggle to remember what they are. What's that animal? What's that town? What's that vegetable? It all flickers like a light; I remember or am reminded and then it's just gone again. Given the operations pluses, well worth it. I am joyous and happy.

Thrillingly I'm married to Jennifer, the amazing, the beautiful. She had to make decisions about what to do while I was unable to. Had I not had surgery I would have gone into a coma very soon… and then died. Our relationship is no accident. Now that I can think again (a bit!) I'm now seeing my two kids have grown enormously while I've been off the planet. A few weeks after the operation I saw the kids like I had been unable to for a long, long time. It was like seeing someone else's kids after months and we really see the growth. Chloe is five and a half and is just so… grown up. My goodness. Dylan turned two on 16 Sept. and understands language and speaks a lot. He loves vehicles, be they toys or real. He roars around playing outside, while Chloe plays with dolls inside. They're so different and yet so close. I'm enjoying life again, big time. Do I know the future, whether I live or die young? No. I just feel good, and the future will bring what it brings, when it brings it.

About ten years ago my dad and I purchased land here, long before I even met Jennifer. I had never owned land before. My dad eventually lived and died on the land, and as there's no real house we live in a rental a few minutes away. It is beautiful, and along with buying the land, marrying my partner and having kids and a few other things it is one of a brilliant moves in my life. Jennifer and I have always rented since we moved out from our parents, many years before we even met each other. My even buying land is a miracle.

Before I became ill, I was thinking one day about what to do. I should work on living on our land. Not having any money, I felt that helping people with their computers for a couple more years would eventually allow us to get a mortgage, but that there was nothing I could do right then. A few days later I had the grande mal seizure. A month later the tumour was diagnosed and we were told I'd die soon. I had never even thought of a house again. Days after the recent operation I just had it came: build a house, live on the land. It really feels full circle, like it is a related closure.

In my life I have never been able to ask for money. When I was a teen and first lived away from my parents, I could never even afford food or rent. I would wait as long as possible and then ask my dad for too little money, when he was happy to give me whatever. After this operation I feel very different in my life--including about money. For the first time I can ask. I have no bother about being refused. I have no judgement. We are all different. Some are rich, some are broke. Some are generous, some cling to everything. There's every combination. Some people are flat broke and generous. They'll give money they don't have, start a fundraiser, whatever. Some are very rich and will just keep it all and do nothing. Again, I have no judgement.

I had a friend who's a local architect come to our land and told him what I felt we needed so that I would know what it would cost. He estimated A$300,000 (US$230,000, €190,000). My request is this: I want a house for my family. I ask for donations so that we can build one. Please do whatever you feel to do, be it everything or nothing. Our home is going to happen. Watch.

I ask that people do what they feel to within a month's time. The http://www.peterlalor.org/ web site tells where we have bank accounts into which you can donate if you wish. If you like, let us know what you did. I'll let everyone know what happens.

Medically, the opinion is that my life is likely to be very short. If I am to die soon, I wish to only after I have my family taken care of, and to live and die on our land myself. In actuality, Jennifer and I may get to watch our kids grow up and go to school, become adults and move out. We talk about sitting together with grey hair. Who knows what will happen?

Some recent pictures and more are on the web site now. You'll see my interesting new--or is it old?--hairstyle... at the very least.

This is to let you know that Peter's surgery today went very well. He emerged from the operation about an hour ago and is speaking coherently and is currently in post operative care. Jennifer will be seeing him presently and thanks you for all your loving thoughts. She will be in touch more in detail as soon as she is able.

With lots of love,

Saul

I am writing you from the Royal Brisbane Hospital. Some of you may know that Peter has been unwell for the past 5 weeks or so. As I wrote in the last update a cyst had been found as well as something under the area of the cyst that appeared like tumour re-growth. Our various alternative and faith healers were either still confident in Peter's health or unable to give us much information. Given that we have been coming to Brisbane every two weeks for the dentritic cell vaccine trial which includes an MRI we were being watchful and felt we would know with more certainty what was happening once we got the next PET scan in a couple of weeks time.

Peter had his 4th dentritic cell vaccine on the 29th of June. In the evening of the 30th he developed a severe headache that wouldn't respond to normal pain medication and didn't abate on its own. Vomiting ensued and he didn't eat or even drink much for several days. That was the period of time that the neuro surgeon doing the vaccine trial thought he was having an immune response. Peter spent a 24 hour period in the local hospital getting re-hydrated by IV and was given dexamethasone, a steroid, to bring down inflammation in the brain. He stopped vomiting, his seizures were under better control and he perked up a fair bit though his headaches were still quite severe. Because we thought it to be an immune response, he was weaned off of the dexamethasone after a few days.

During this time I felt quite frightened because I had the distinct feeling that Peter was slipping through my hands. Peter on the other hand was still adamant that he was simply having a healing response and that he didn't have cancer anymore. One of our intuitive healers who has been very helpful to us told us that Peter had various psychic level things going on but she didn't get any resonance for tumour re-growth. She could pick up a chemical in Peter's brain however that came through a food sauce. I didn't think much of this at first given that Peter has only eaten organic foods hand made at home and no processed food for months. She continued on though with the date which he would have ingested this sauce and lo and behold when I opened my calendar I remembered our previous drive home from Brisbane and my need for a break. The only option was a Thai restaurant and we had two dishes both with sauces. It seemed too accurate to not be true. She felt that if we followed a particular protocol Peter's headache would clear in a week. She may have been correct about picking up a chemical in Peter's brain but she was wrong in her assessment that it was the cause of Peter's severe headache. A week later on July 15th we brought a very sick Peter to Brisbane for his MRI. I packed an overnight bag for him because I knew he was going to need a drip again. I imagined that the cyst was growing and causing problems. It only took me a fraction of a second when the first MRI scan went up to see the real and terrifying problem. The little bit of something under the cyst had turned into a huge and obvious tumour. It was shocking to see how this thing had grown in two weeks time. Bush fire.

Peter was admitted into the hospital and was fairly incoherent by the time they got the drip into him. The neurosurgeon on call showed up very quickly. She let me know in no uncertain terms that Peter was in grave danger. The re- growth has turned into a glioblastoma multi forme .... grade IV... the most aggressive and lethal of all brain tumours. Without surgery followed as quickly as safe and possible by radiation treatment she told me Peter had days to weeks left to live, not months. When I looked at him and thought back over the last few weeks I knew she was right.

The next 24 hours were very rough. Peter stabilised well in terms of his symptoms but he felt strongly that he wanted to go home. He thought we could still beat this through alternative means. The way he was talking was not grounded in reality of what was obvious in the here and now. We had some painful and difficult talks. The neuro surgeon was clear and frank while heartful and compassionate. She encouraged Peter to continue doing the various things we feel may support his health or create a miracle but to also include surgery and radiation therapy as a proven method to buy more time.

Peter has decided to have another surgery. The alternative is almost certain death within a few weeks. Hopefully the surgery will go well and give us more time together as a family to feel we have had as satisfying a good bye as possible. Perhaps other ways of supporting Peter's health beyond the myriad of alternative ways we have already tried will arise and give us even more time.

Life is asking Peter and I and those close to us to be a very big container right now. On one hand it is time to face the stark probability of Peter's early death so that we don't miss the opportunity to complete with each other and say all that we want to say. On the other hand we have to keep believing in and living life. We have to be open to miracles with out wasting precious time on blindly chasing them. We have to live until we say good bye.

Peter's surgery is scheduled for this coming Wednesday, July 20th (Tuesday, 19th in the USA). It seems like they will begin around noon time. I will try to update as I know more. The surgeons expect it to go well in terms of preserving Peter's quality of life for the near future. I feel very confident in the surgeon doing the procedure and Peter does too.

I am somewhat numb as I write this. I do not have the time nor the inclination to go into more than the outline at the moment.

Please continue to send love and light for the best possible outcome for Peter. He is being amazing with all that is happening as usual. He is my hero and my beloved. I love him forever and for always.

Thank you for your support, prayers and well wishes,

Much love to you all,

Jennifer

Here is the promised update on our last visit to Brisbane.

The good news is that the cyst that had been growing so rapidly was still there but hadn't grown discernibly in the past two weeks. The iffy news is that something seems to be growing directly underneath the area of the cyst. The neurosurgeon assumes that this is tumour regrowth. That is what they would expect.

After much questioning on my part we told Dr. Laherty about the healing session with the shaman and her assertion that the PET scan would show an all clear. He was open to listening to our story. His response was that he can only speak to us from experiential evidence and that his experience is that we are most likely seeing tumour regrowth. He went on to say that he does not know how the whole wide universe works so he did not begrudge Peter a divine intervention if that was indeed what was happening. He thought that if it wasn't tumour that there may be some possibility that the new growth we are seeing is an inflammation response.

Lat Thursday (The day after our trip to Brisbane) Peter developed an acute headache which normal pain killers have not been able to touch. He has been vomiting and suffering in great pain. He is currently bed ridden and unable to eat or drink much. He is extremely weak and having recurrent seizures.

I was not able to reach doctors over the week end so we have had to ride out the storm. I was getting very concerned as Peter's condition was deteriorating. However when I spoke with the neuro surgeon today he felt like these extreme symptoms are an immune response to the dentritic cell vaccine. As a mechanism it may suggest something good is happening.
The immune response is causing inflammation and that swelling is exerting pressure build up hence the extreme symptoms.

We will not be sure what the new growth is until we see another PET scan in a few weeks. It goes without saying that we are praying that it is simply inflammation.

Your continued prayers are much appreciated. I still believe that Peter has a mission to fulfil here on earth and that his ability to do so is possible but the battle is still on going. Thank you for sending your light and love.

Many blessings to all of you. May peace be in your hearts,
With much love,
Jennifer

P.S. Peter and I celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary on July 6th. Please say a prayer that we will celebrate together for many, many years to come! Thank you!!

We only had about a week of celebrating the clear PET scan when I noticed that the frequency of Peter's seizures was increasing. Peter felt sure that he was still cancer free but I began to worry. I felt like a traitor as my exuberance about the PET scan dulled and questions began to fill my mind. However, I could see that my beloved was declining and this set of seizures where bringing head aches too.

We got our answer about ten days ago when we went to Brisbane for #3 of the dentritic cell vaccine. Peter has a cyst growing in the area where the tumour was removed. Evidently this is fairly common with brain tumours. The cyst had grown significantly in a 12 day period hence the increased seizures and headaches.

The cyst is fairly benign in of itself but because it is growing in the brain cavity it is effectively squishing Peter's brain tissue. He hasn't been able to write and he began to have a lot of trouble with reading as well. Even simple words were often incomprehensible.

The neurosurgeon wants to wait and see what happens. Will it continue to grow and be problematic or will it stabilize? Well, two nights ago Peter had a prolonged seizure which required a big dose of valium to stop it. We are back in the thick of things on a practical level. He is so wiped out that he is staying in bed, not able to eat much and still having a lot of seizures.

We will go back to Brisbane on Wednesday and he'll have another MRI and consultation with the neurosurgeon. More info to come after that.

In the mean time we have been consulting our team of alternative and complementary healers as well. We had been praying in gratitude every day and now we are praying in gratitude and asking for help to get Peter through this next phase. Although we are in the thick of it again and the path is uncertain (as it always is anyway) there is so much beauty and love within us and around us.

We appreciate your continued prayers and support for Peter. Please see him whole and healthy, touched by the grace of God.

I would also like to ask that if you are drawn to you say a prayer for my step mother, Shirley, and my dad, Bill. Shirley discovered she had a mass in her left lung next to her heart the same week that Peter had his initial seizure. She recently had a biopsy that confirmed the type of cancer but she has had a post operative complication. She has developed pneumonia and is on life support. Hospice has set up support for her so at least she can be at home. She is not expected to live more than a week or so. I wish for her that her journey back to God be relaxed and joyful without fear. I am sure our prayers for her can help her to let go when it is her right time. And my dad is so stoic. I am sad not to be able to go to him and support him through this time. Thank you for your prayers.

So much love and gratefulness to you all,
Jennifer

Beloved friends and family,

It has been about six weeks since our last group update to friends. A lot has happened. I am now on a modified Vegan diet. We have hired a lovely woman named Tara to handle cooking, thereby greatly freeing Jennifer to pursue research on my behalf. We all still have Pertussis; "The hundred-day cough" in China and we now know how it got named thus. I am scheduled to start radiation therapy in three days.

Only a few days before I had my awake craniotomy I had a session with an Aboriginal healer. Once we resurfaced after my surgery I started seeing him again, and while I do not understand what he does, I do trust it. About a month ago he told us that an excellent shamanic healer was arriving soon, and I saw her two weeks ago. She explained that she worked with four different entities; a Lakota Indian, Jesus Christ, Mary Magdalene and another whose name my somewhat recalcitrant memory refuses to divulge. Each handles different tasks, Jesus the healing. I was present to be present, with my mind left at the door. After going through various things, she asked exactly where the tumour was located. I explained, and she went silent for a short period. She then told me that Jesus had removed the tumour entirely, including small threads of it. She then had Jennifer enter the room, and apparently suspecting—or knowing—that this could be hard to accept, she told us to get a PET scan so that we could see it.

As we were finally scheduled to start my dendritic cell vaccine trial (first mentioned in my February email), we responded that we'd be getting me an MRI scan for that. She looked off into space briefly, and I had the distinct sense that she was communicating. She then told us that Jesus said that the MRI would not show it and 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.

Last Wednesday I had my first PET scan, and also yet another MRI scan, within an hour of each other. Last Friday Jennifer we met the neurosurgeon running the dendritic cell vaccine trial, for my first injection. We had the PET scan and the latest MRI. The MRI showed something that could be interpreted in numerous ways. The PET scan showed…

No tumour present.

Before I go on, I humbly suggest that, regardless of your belief system—as I am not a Christian—that you thank Jesus on my behalf if you are drawn to do so. Your Intent for my healing, along with my own, has worked.

Jennifer and I discussed the scans with the neurosurgeon in great detail. Given statistics—tumours re-grow—they would generally irradiate the area visible on the MRI scan. I am not a statistic, and my former tumour will not be coming back. I intend to not start radiation. Catch-22: radiation causes damage and can't be done wide close to brain stem, which is what the remains of tumour after operation was closest to. Tumours may also grow from tumour cells anywhere in brain that isn't being irradiated. I am willing to bet my life on this, but I will trust al-la whilst tethering my camel: the dendritic cell vaccine will cause MRIs every two weeks. It also returns to me the cells from my immune system that were removed.

I have quite a bit of battle damage in my brain. Name, nouns and time remain extremely difficult for me. Notwithstanding that, I also just got the results of my IQ test done prior to surgery: 110; 75th percentile. I'm still smart, although presumably I've been smarter. My IQ may be lower, but I will expand in other ways. For growth is the way this reality works, and is why we are here. I am physically somewhat weak. I am not suddenly completely cured, so we will remain on the attack towards total and complete health. My life has been saved but I have much work to do, both for myself and for other beings. The shamanic healer was adamant that I will not die—with or without radiation—because I have much to do, as I am to become some a healer, teacher, or shaman myself. I don't yet know what, but I will start by converting my journal entries, along with Jennifer's writings and that of healers, into a book.

Much of this was posted on my site as it occurred, so if you'd like more detail much is available there. I can now cause a notification email to be sent to you when Jennifer or I make a new journal entry, so you needn't deal with my utterly erratic writing regularity. Let me know if you'd like to be notified. Also, Jennifer has a major new entry that should be posted there very soon.

Chloe and Dylan are doing wonderfully. Chloe is utterly blossoming, and her difficulties in the past two weeks only confirm to us that I am healed thereby allowing her to express anything that needs expressing. She also loves my goofy fooling around with my kids, something I have blossomed on under the threat of death. Dylan is an absolute delight, roaring around, into everything and understanding whatever we say to him.

And Jennifer? She and I went to a group gathering with the shamanic healer a week after my session. In it she said that Jennifer and I were soul-mates, and that she wished she had one. Enough said. Jennifer and I are cracking each other up at how connected we are.

There are no mistakes. We are each here to learn what we need to learn—hence the variety on Earth—and each life is capable of providing what we most need—or want—to learn. Be aware of what you wish for. You will get it.

Much love,

Peter Lalor

It has been some time since I have written an update on Peter's condition and how our little family is faring. I am not sure what I am going to write in the subject line when I finish this. 'Notes from Hell' and 'Darkness Down Under' are contenders.

For months prior to Peter's surgery Peter and I both felt as if we were riding on a tremendous wave of Grace. We were carried and guided in clear and extraordinary ways. I never really felt self pity or disconnected from Grace during that time. Primarily I felt like an unwavering and strong warrioress with plenty of strength and a deep capacity for love and compassion. I rose with Dylan between 5:30 and 6:30 most mornings and multi tasked all day. After Peter and the kid's needs were taken care of and they were asleep in the night I would get on the computer to answer emails and continue researching brain tumour treatments. I would crawl into bed well after midnight most nights; usually just in time to get a quick nap before Dylan would wake a time or two in the night. I figured I just needed to get Peter through his surgery and then I could get a rest while he was safely recovering. Wrong.

Post surgery was a different story. The whooping cough knocked me down a long with the rest of my little family, I disconnected from Grace (though I am certain it still surrounds us), instead of guidance I have only heard static and the exhaustion of sleep deprivation has proved extremely challenging to my mind and body effecting my mood and daily function. Where did the invincible warrioress go?

Many of the healing protocols that I had been helping Peter with fell to the way side. This has been very upsetting for me not to mention Peter who relies on my keeping everything rolling. At the same time (and at first undetected by either Peter or me) the anti seizure medication Peter has been on started making him feel intensely hostile and depressed. I don't think I need to spell out the recipe that was being concocted by my exhaustion and need for a break with Peter's aggression and depression. Let me just say that it has been a stark contrast to the Grace, light and abundance we were feeling previously.

Luckily my mother and her husband were here for 7 weeks and helped tremendously with the children. That saved me from completely falling apart. Thank you Mom and Tom.

It dawned on Peter that what he was experiencing was related to the drugs. (You can read more detail about that if interested in his journal on the web site: http:peterlalor.org). I looked up the drug on the US FDA website to find a list of special cautions regarding Keppra. Ninety percent of the list described Peter's symptoms with 'anger, aggression and hostility' listed in red type. BINGO. I got on the phone with doctors and we decided to start decreasing his dose until we could find a balance or switch to another drug. Peter was really hoping that he wouldn't have seizures anymore after the surgery. For now we have learned the hard way that he definitely has to be on something. Peter's mood started to improve within 24 hours of decreasing the medication (to stop abruptly would actually cause seizures). Within two weeks he dropped down to half the dose he had been taking. Approximately ten days ago he started to have mild seizures here and there. Then the bomb dropped.

A week ago Monday Peter had a prolonged complex focal seizure that we couldn't get under control. Abstract fear and at times terror were strong features a long with chill bumps that would start on his left arm and run all through his body and up his spine into his head. He was sweating yet felt like he was freezing. He was also vomiting frequently either due to a neurological affect of the seizures or a tummy bug. The doctors don't know. He temporarily stopped breathing twice after vomiting giving both of us a terrible fright. I took him to the Emergency Room three times in as many days and eventually he was admitted for re-hydration given he was vomiting bile and unable to keep anything down. He is home now, on an increased dose of the anti seizure medication and showing improvement each day. Thank god.

I am so broken hearted to see him suffer any more than he already has. That really got to me this week. Peter says this latest episode was way worse than the awake craniotomy. Can you imagine?

We have an appointment with the neurologist tomorrow to have another MRI done and determine a better medication for him.

As for me I hit bottom last Friday. I have felt like I am in a giant hole that I keep willing myself to dig out of with no results, only a feeling of failure. I finally had a big cry and talk with Saul a few days ago. I haven't felt like I have had time or space for the luxury of emotional expression these past months. I have pushed my feelings down so as to keep going for those who rely on me. Lo and behold after a big cry and chat I could think more clearly (advice I would have given to any friend in my shoes). Releasing the pressure valve on myself has allowed me to come up with a new plan for support. I desperately want to get on top of helping Peter with the foods and therapies that I believe will give him the best chance at complete recovery. I am feeling relieved and light is starting to enter my world again.

So that I can keep going in this marathon and give my all to my family I am making a commitment to have a massage/body work every other week and see a counselor every other week. I have realized a couple of crucial things through the darkness of this latest chapter. One is that it is natural for any process that is truly wholistic to have a dark side as well as a light side. The journey through the dark side is arduous but fruitful if I relax with it as much as I am able. This is something that I would say I already know well yet I couldn't access that knowledge lately. Another is that I have been setting myself up for a huge guilt trip should Peter follow the prognosis the doctors still put out to us and die from re-growth of the tumour.

Because I am doing a vast majority of the research and organizing Peter's treatments both standard and alternative and because I haven't been consistently on top of it all since the surgery I feel hugely responsible for Peter. I have had an inner refrain tormenting me lately which says that I am killing him by my inability to stay organized and on top of it all. This has been weighing so heavily on my heart. Of course ultimately the decisions are Peter's to make but he relies heavily on me to seek out the options and inform him. To complicate matters I have also had days when I feel so fed up with being a 'care taker' and really don't want to know about Peter or the children's needs. That really gets my psyche in a twist but I have to be honest and admit I am not a saint. I know this all comes from being stretched and challenged further than I ever have been in my life.

The action I am taking in addition to the above mentioned commitments involves hiring a person five days a week to come in and cook lunch and dinner, food shop, make fresh juices for Peter and keep an inventory of supplements. We need a specific healing diet for Peter which is a full time job in itself. The government may subsidize part of the helper's salary and Peter's mother and step father have very graciously offered to help out with the rest. Making this decision has lifted a huge weight for me.

As for the children, Dylan continues to be a happy, little chap and so delightful to watch grow. Chloe continues to be lovely, mature and so accepting (for a five year old) of all the attention Papa needs. We are blessed with beautiful, healthy children.

I hope this fills you in on the last couple of months. My apologies to those of you who have written and not received a reply from me. You are all in my heart and I am deeply appreciative of the care and resources you continue to send to Peter and I.

We will have to decide on the details of Phase II of Peter's treatment within the next few weeks. When we have more information about that I will write again.

Until then may you and your loved ones be blessed and may sunshine always follow rain.

Much love,

Jennifer

Beloved friends and family,

I strode into hospital the morning of surgery feeling "Let's do this thing". As Jennifer will have told you, my awake craniotomy was a great success. The surgeons seem to have removed almost my entire tumour while I was awake while taking care to drug me to the extent that although I was conscious nothing was bothering me and I can recall almost none of the hour and a half during which they kept me communicating. Works for me. It's the only way to be sure.

We've been home for around ten days, during which time I've had a variety of strange emotional outbursts that seem to stem from some of the drugs they gave me to control swelling (anger) and possibly the surgery itself (maniacal laughter, light with closed eyes). I'm not worried about any of it. It will pass. And anyway, the laughter can be pretty funny and is probably merely emotional release... not insanity. I had only a single mild seizure even a couple days ago, and when I visit a neurologist again it may be that I can drop my anti-seizure medication. That would be nice; who knows what it's doing to me. Perhaps it's making me laugh like a loon.

Less fun is the fact that Chloe caught pertussis (whooping cough) a month ago and now we all have it. It's truly awful, causing racking coughing and gagging all day and all night for weeks. Oh, and it's apparently incurable, tapering off and going away after a couple months. For as supported by the universe as Jennifer and I feel about my tumour, we just don't get this pertussis thing. It just hammers you flat. I not like, and Jennifer is utterly wrecked from lack of sleep between hew own coughing and Dylan's. Chloe, at least, appears to be getting better.

Although my various language and memory problems are the same now as prior to surgery--and may or may not improve--I do seem to be somewhat better again with this computer. I added as many photos as I could find to my address book of friends and family, along with adding names of related people so that when my brain won't produce a name I have a better chance of finding my way to a person through related people whose name I might recall at the moment.

We heard last night from the doctor running the dendritic cell vaccine trial in Brisbane. He is ready to divest me of some blood to start training my immune system to "nuke from orbit", although I'm not sure if he'll need to wait until pertussis goes back to hell. Jennifer and I also cancelled our appointments with the chemotherapy and radiation oncology specialists until we're more energetic again, although those are things to be looked at fresh before we decide to get radical.

Over the past few days I've been able to journal again, and posted a long entry at http://www.peterlalor.org/ covering the period from the last entry to now. I even managed to post the entry myself for the first time without causing any technology to burst into flame, which is a good sign. Enjoy.

Death may have lost interest in me, or perhaps not. But if it comes for anything I'm going to offer it pertussis. Have a nice day.

Lots of love,

Peter Lalor

I am very exhausted so I will keep this update brief for now.

Peter is on the normal ward and doing very well. All IV's were removed today as well as the drainage tube from his brain. He got up and moved around ... took a shower unassisted and took a few little walks around the ward. He is doing remarkably well.

I spoke with one of the doctors regarding the MRI done yesterday and it looks like they got quite a lot of the tumour. There is probably still residual tumour cells around the edges but they took out something around the size of a golf ball. He kept saying that Peter was doing "remarkably well" - "very quick recovery", etc.

They will keep Peter in hospital until they have the histology (pathology report) back from the lab. That will most likely be Tuesday or Wednesday next week.

We will meet with medical oncologists and radio oncologists next week to consult and collect information about what they would suggest as a next step. That means I am getting back into research mode. I am not so keen on chemotherapy based on the bit of research I have done thus far. However, I will do my due diligence, research all facets and philosophies and leave no stone unturned. Then we will continue to make intelligent and well informed decisions.

Thank you for your prayers, blessings and well wishes. They mean so much to both Peter and I. We send you much love and light ... there is such abundance around us .... all of us.

Peter thanks you for continuing to send your healing energy and prayers.

Love,
Jennifer

I am very exhausted so I will keep this update brief for now.

Peter is on the normal ward and doing very well. All IV's were removed today as well as the drainage tube from his brain. He got up and moved around ... took a shower unassisted and took a few little walks around the ward. He is doing remarkably well.

I spoke with one of the doctors regarding the MRI done yesterday and it looks like they got quite a lot of the tumour. There is probably still residual tumour cells around the edges but they took out something around the size of a golf ball. He kept saying that Peter was doing "remarkably well" - "very quick recovery", etc.

They will keep Peter in hospital until they have the histology (pathology report) back from the lab. That will most likely be Tuesday or Wednesday next week.

We will meet with medical oncologists and radio oncologists next week to consult and collect information about what they would suggest as a next step. That means I am getting back into research mode. I am not so keen on chemotherapy based on the bit of research I have done thus far. However, I will do my due diligence, research all facets and philosophies and leave no stone unturned. Then we will continue to make intelligent and well informed decisions.

Thank you for your prayers, blessings and well wishes. They mean so much to both Peter and I. We send you much love and light ... there is such abundance around us .... all of us.

Peter thanks you for continuing to send your healing energy and prayers.

Love,
Jennifer

It is with immense relief and gratitude that I write to tell you that Peter's awake craniotomy was a success.

We went into the Royal Brisbane and Women's hospital at 6:30 this morning, February 16th. The surgery took approximately five hours. I was allowed to be with Peter right up until they took him into the pre op room to commence anesthesia.

Peter was in very good and relaxed spirits. I am in awe of his deep courage and honored to be the woman at his side. He knew within himself that this was his next step on the healing journey and he took it with out falter.

I then went to the hospital chapel (the emptiest and most peaceful place in the hospital). I focused all the healing light, energy and love that I could gather for Peter and all the medical staff helping him through the surgery. It was a lot of light and a whole lot of love that I could sense around him. I felt him surrounded by a clear field of healing energy.

After much meditation and prayer Kylie (Peter's sister), Gandharaj (our good friend) and I waited to meet Peter. I got a call from one of the surgeons at approximately 2:00 Brisbane time letting me know that they had just completed surgery and he had just been moved to recovery. The surgeon said that the procedure had gone very well. He put emphasis on 'very well'.

Thank you God.

When we were finally allowed to see Peter again in the high dependancy unit he looked amazingly well. His color and vibrancy were good. He was very coherent and very grateful to hear that all had gone so well. He said he felt calm and helped through the whole thing. He was glad to be on the other side of it. He was having quite intense head ache at times but the nursing staff were good with getting that taken care of. At one point he looked up with sparkly eyes that looked both playful and knowing and said, "just wait till you see how quickly I heal." I say, "YES!!"

The plan is that he stay in the high dependancy unit for another day to make sure he remains stable and then to move him to the normal ward. He will remain in hospital for approximately five days and then be allowed home to the flat we are renting in Brisbane for another five days. When the doctors are satisfied that he is stable and well on the way to healing they will let us return back to Mullumbimby ... home, sweet home.

Peter asks that we all keep focusing our healing energies and prayer on his full and complete recovery. He is very appreciative of your love and blessings. As am I of course.

Tomorrow they will do an MRI and then be able to say just how much of the tumour they were able to get.

I'll update you as I can.

Life is precious and so are you. Thank you from my depths.

All my love,

Jennifer Lalor

Many people have asked exactly when my surgery will occur so that they can meditate, pray, or do whatever else feels right for them. I feel strongly that the love, energy, and intent of others are helping me to face this with grace and strength, and to see it as a golden opportunity instead of a curse. Thank you for your help, and please don't underestimate your power.

Surgery is scheduled to commence anaesthesia prep at ~6:30 am Australian Eastern Standard Time on Wednesday, 16 February (Tuesday 15th in the U.S. and Europe), which is 7:30 am in New South Wales. It will take place at The Royal Brisbane and Women's Hospital.

Equivalent world times are here.

The expected duration of surgery is at least three hours, and it can go longer. This website will have updates throughout the day of the surgery as possible. Hey, maybe we'll even have a nice picture of my brain! Hmm... let's skip that bit.

A medical intuitive whom I trust implicitly (see my journal) has provided a list of beneficial actions people can take regardless of where they are. These resonate for me:

      Pray for the surgeon to be divinely guided.
      Network of people to vigil during and afterwards for one week.
      Reiki during and afterwards particularly for first week.

I am very grateful for anything that you feel drawn to do to assist my healing.

Also, I have been meaning for some time to ask that people email me a recent picture of themselves. I have trouble at times with names, but pictures are unaffected. It'll be nice for me to see you in any case. If you can, please name the image(s) with those it contains.

Much, much love,

Peter Lalor

We have a plan for my treatment. A story goes with it.

Since we initially received my diagnosis of brain tumour, Jennifer, aided by many enthusiastic volunteers worldwide who have done research and buttonholed specialists—thank you all!—has been tirelessly researching any and all potential treatments for my “untreatable� astrocytoma. She has done this whilst mothering two young children and aiding me through some intense processes of my own. Many long nights she has spent.

Throughout, I have focused my energies on facing whatever within me has come up asking for attention. If I am to die, I will carry no baggage. Lifetimes of energetic detritus I have shed, in experiences so outlandish that it would be tempting to simply chalk it up to the tumour, side effects of medications, anything. Except that I know. Oh, the help I have. We all have. Now. Always.

But this missive is to bring you up to date with the steps we are taking to cheat death this time. And I Intend to. As Jennifer has managed the research, it would perhaps be best for her to write this. But she has to sleep sometime.

Medical specialists of any relevant kind around the world have now seen my MRIs. The consensus is that surgery to de-bulk the tumour is the first step, and we concur. This is partially because the tumour is so enormously toxic that it is entirely possible to die from toxaemia if it simply begins to break down en masse. The majority of neurosurgeons that have seen my MRI feel that while tricky, it is operable. As the tumour is fairly invisible to the eye, it will not be known until a follow-up MRI is performed how much was removed. Up to 80% is considered potentially possible. A tumour starts from a single body cell that commences replicating out of control. This means that surgically removing a percentage is nothing more than a head start. It is not a cure. In this regard Jennifer’s research led her to an Argentinean specialist in dendritic cell vaccines. In a dendritic cell vaccine, the surgically removed tumour cells are killed by radiation, mixed with immune cells from my own blood and then injected back into the body, thereby training the body’s immune system to attack the tumour cells. The process is highly experimental, but should be non-toxic.

For a time we were expecting to fly anywhere within days. A neurosurgeon in New York is happy to operate for US$120k. The Argentines can do surgery and the vaccine for US$60k. It is nothing to drop a quarter mil on this.

Our global search eventually led us to a neurosurgeon in Brisbane at a hospital close to the one at which my biopsy was performed. Jennifer and I met with him on 24 January. He feels that surgery would be both feasible and helpful. He is also running a dendritic cell vaccine trial. Synchronicity! (Conveniently, this also keeps us within the Australian medical system, in which all this is covered for free, allowing us to pocket all that imaginary money that we didn’t have in the first place.) We felt very comfortable with him both technically and also personally. He has a certain ineffable openness that is vital to me, in that I feel that—given that the work is performed blind to a certain extent—he will be receptive to the help that I feel is present, and will make the right choices as he works. It is important that he does, because the potential side effects, while all unlikely in varying degrees, range from temporary (15%) or permanent (10%) weakness in my right side, to inability to create or comprehend speech, to death (1%).

I have felt for quite some time now that surgery was the next step. Whenever I have thought about it, I have heard quiet affirmatives telling me “Do it!� All will be well.

The neurosurgeon initially said that the location of the tumour is right on the cusp of requiring that it be done awake, but that he did not feel that this would be necessary although he needed to sit with it. By the end of our conversation he said that he felt that it would be best done awake. We liked the feel of him with this too, and I have been expecting that it would be done awake. I find myself surprisingly comfortable with this. Jennifer and I both feel strongly that we are on the right course.

My awake craniotomy is scheduled for the 16th of February. I will be in hospital for 5-7 days, and we will remain in Brisbane for another five days or so as a precaution. The dendritic cell vaccine takes some ten days to prepare, and then I have injections, MRI scans and blood work every two weeks over the course of twelve weeks.

So after all that, do I live? I wouldn’t count on it on those treatments alone. I have been taking Asian plant medicines prescribed by a forensic pathologist (who used to work for NASA; Jennifer loves that bit) with a speciality in rapid cell division. He is greatly restrained by Australian privacy laws from discussing his success rate, but states that his treatment is freestanding. Apparently, we are unwilling to bet my life on that either; hence the surgery. There are numerous other possibilities for subsequent treatments, but we feel that we need to take the door in front of us before we can consider future steps. At any rate, Death will be ill advised to attempt to close my account just yet. I intend to live.

With all our love,

Peter & Jennifer