Four years on from cancer.

I gently kissed my daughter (who had crept into our bed in the early hours of the morning); strategically placed a plethora of pillows around the extremities of the bed to avoid her 'roll off'; and glanced across to my sleeping wife, not daring to steal a kiss - as a husband and father well aware that one must never jeopardise the sleep of a mother... As I crept out of the bedroom this morning I caught the soft creeping sunlight that precedes sunrise, the type of natural light that softens the blow to any lack of sleep the night prior.

Four years ago today I woke to a very different light. As my eyes adjusted to the assault of the bright lights in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), so too did my mind to the enormity of the moment, and the road to recovery ahead. I'd known my threshold for physical pain to be high, so had not given the notion of physically removing 15 odd centimetres of my colon much thought. Within those 15cm had been an obtrusive and cancerous tumour.

As my body adjusted to the surgery over the following week in ICU I embodied the immensity of the operation and began to understood the benefits of my integrative medical approach : defined below by the Australasian Integrative Medicine Association:

The term Integrative Medicine refers to the blending of conventional and natural/complementary medicines and/or therapies along with lifestyle interventions and a holistic approach - taking into account the physical, psychological, social and spiritual wellbeing of the person - with the aim of using the most appropriate, safe and evidence-based modalities available.

The blending of each approach seemed to often be an hourly exercise. Day two in ICU and my epidural slipped out, unbeknownst to everyone, so I spent the following 24 hours without pain meds after having my stomach cut vertically from belly button to pubic bone. Had I not had a deep spiritual practice and emotional stability (and some good humour from my family!) then those 24 hours would have been a lot rougher...

Four years on now and I often reflect on my time in that hospital. The struggle to walk 30m down the hallway and soak up some rays of sunlight through a window; the challenge to only be allowed 30ml of water during the first couple of days; or the enormity of having only 30 days post-op to get myself strong enough to welcome my first born daughter into the world.

Four years on and there are zero signs of cancer in my body. I'm squeaky clean. And that sh*t ain't coming back! So the question I reflect on the most is this: What really accelerated my healing process? It is the same question I am asked by a lot of clients at our health retreat centre in Bali.

And until today I never really had a definitive answer.

But if I can pinpoint one thing (in addition to the amazing support of my wife, incredible health professionals, and all my family and friends) then it would be this : I didn't hold onto a sense of entitlement. Yes I asked the question "WHY ME". But then I quickly realised, WHY NOT. Who was I to question whether I "deserved" to be in that situation, while mothers in hospital corridor just up from me lost unborn children. Who was I to believe that just because I ran a detox centre specialising in cleaning colons that I was thus entitled to never have to deal with colon cancer. So very early on in the healing process I breathed a sigh of relief : knowing that I was not going to be caught within the spiral of victimhood or entitlement that I see far too often in clients walking through the door of our retreat centre.

Carolyn Myss says that a period of (healing) should be about a boat to cross the river, but too often we don't get off on the other side. We live in the past because "we are more afraid of change than we are of death." Well four years on and I'm happy to say I'm off that boat, and I'm building a wonderful life on the other side.