Dear family,

Greetings from the Mendocino Coast of Northern California. I am writing to share the latest news in my healing journey and the results of my most recent scan.

Thanks to everyone who offered kind words, thoughts, and prayers in the time leading up to my imaging appointment on December 30th. I really appreciate all of your beautiful intentions and I feel your care. Please know that the sentiment of good will is mutual. I see your victory in light just as I know you see mine!

If you read my last post — my epistole annularis, as my uncle Wayne likes to refer to these annual letters — you know that since chemo ended in August I’ve been working hard (and joyfully) on developing integrative practices to heal my life, aiming to achieve a clean CT scan by returning all of my body’s lymph nodes back to their normal size and optimal function.

In an effort not to bury the lead here, I’ll say that the scan appears to have brought some pretty good news — not (yet!) a complete resolution, but a major victory!

Please allow me to explain, as always, in far greater detail than anyone asked me to ; )

In my last post, I kind of put myself out there vulnerably, pointing my bat into the stands out beyond left field and referring to my December 30th appointment, hopefully, as my “No Evidence of Disease Scan.”

I even playfully told a friend, while heading to the hospital that morning, “the only negative thing about me is my scan result!”

According to the latest scan, that hasn’t come to pass. YET. The node we’ve been tracking and shrinking has not achieved totally normal size. YET. I haven’t achieved that long sought-after distinction of having “No Evidence of Disease.” YET.

But I’m so damn close I can taste it.

I’m glad I went out on a limb last week and began sharing my vision more explicitly and calling in my “No Evidence of Disease Scan.” I believe there is great magic in speaking into existence that which we desire. And with every fiber of my being, I desire to stay, to be here for my daughter, to continue enjoying life, and to continue doing Jah works.

In the remainder of this dispatch, I’ll briefly recap the story up to this point and then do my best to analyze and interpret the newest scan results.

Thanks, as always, for hangin’ with me on this journey of a lifetime!

When my cancer recurrence happened back in June, I had a baseball-sized collection of overly enthusiastic cells multiplying in one of the lymph nodes in my rear abdomen, near my aorta. It was terrifying.

Chemotherapy was grueling — but along with diet, yoga, writing, visualization, and all the other good medicine I was working with (including support from my tribe out there!), it worked. We dissolved the cancer, obliterated the mass, cured what was ailing me, and eliminated the threat.

But in my CT scan after concluding chemo, in early September, the node where cancer had occurred did not initially appear totally normal. It was 2.5 cm in diameter instead of the <1 cm average. It was the size of a cherry, with typical nodes around the size of a pea.

The doctors suggested a complex surgery to remove it (along with over a dozen nearby lymph nodes), by making a 12-inch incision down my midline — a surgery which, I don’t think I mentioned earlier, also had the potential to damage the nerves that make ejaculation possible. (My dudes out there will probably understand this quite well: I like my ejaculation and I was in no rush to compromise this cherished ability!)

But beyond my concern about going under general anesthesia, being cut open, losing vital lymph nodes, and the other potential risks and negative health consequences of that proposed surgery, I just had a feeling it wasn’t necessary. I believed — and still do — that I am cancer-free, and that my body possesses the innate ability to bounce back from the trauma of this summer and go on to live a long and healthy life.

The docs explained that there was no way of knowing what was in that lymph node without surgically removing it. It had around a 50% of being scar tissue (fibrosis) and leftover dead cells (necrosis) from the successful chemo, which my body could eliminate in time. There was a 40% chance that there was a remaining benign mass (teratoma), which could be risky, but which I could also theoretically eliminate sans-surgery. Statistically speaking, there was a 10% chance that we were dealing with lingering cancer.

While the proposed surgery was the current “standard of care,” I had a strong intuitive sense that it was not the best route for me, that I had already been surgerized enough, that I was cancer-free, and that what remained was indeed scar tissue and dead cells leftover from chemo. I knew that, given time and the proper detox support, my body would naturally purge out the excess tissue and I would eventually produce a “normal” scan.

The doctors told me that once all my nodes are smaller than 1 cm in diameter, I’ll be officially declared as having “no evidence of disease” or NED. After five years of NED scans, they’ll say I’m “cured.”

Since the end of chemo, my tumor markers have settled into the middle of normal range, with nothing to suggest any cancerous activity in my body. This helped my medical team to give me their blessing to embark on the epic self-healing journey of these last few months.

So I chose to follow my heart, my gut, my intuition, the advice of my naturopathic consultants, and my own personal logic, leaning bravely into the post-chemo months of holistic treatment. I continued getting blood work done every few weeks, with my tumor markers all staying within normal range. If there was anything to be concerned about, it would presumably show up in my labs.

My self-treatment over the ensuing weeks brought together practices ranging from a continued anti-inflammatory ketogenic diet and exercise to meditation, yoga and writing. I’ve employed a variety of tools including acupuncture, lymphatic massage, psychotherapy, frequency-specific microcurrent therapy, saunas, hot springs, and more. I’ve taken advantage of powerful supplements, IV vitamin C, ancient Chinese herbs, and other traditional medicines. And I’ve cultivated a joyful life, traveling both solo and with my daughter, connecting with other young cancer survivors, integrating my medical trauma, celebrating the holidays with my family, and writing my life into ever-greater alignment.

I haven’t been perfect. While I’ve done the right thing as often as possible, I’ve also had some late nights and rushed mornings without meditating. I’ve housed a few bags of chips, splurged on a few sweets, enjoyed a few slices of pizza, and spent some time on the couch watching movies and silly shows. But I’ve done my best and I’ve been learning from my mistakes and course-correcting along the way.

And wouldn’t you know it? My latest scan shows a continued (and almost totally linear) progression in the shrinkage of that beautiful little lymph node of mine.

My friend Mike, a great math and science teacher (and all-around brilliant guy), has been my ex-officio data consultant, and has put together some awesome tables and graphs to represent the data from these scans in a way that makes sense to me. (Thanks, Mike!)

These images illustrate my scan results since September, and the gradual reduction in size of that one healing lymph node.

By late October, after eight weeks of continued practices in holistic healing, my second scan showed that beloved node had reduced in volume by about 20%, from 2.5 cm to 2.1 cm in diameter. In those first eight weeks, the volume of that node decreased from around 55 cubic centimeters 42.6 cubic centimeters.

At the time of my most recent scan — the one performed on December 30 — the volume of the node had decreased further still, clocking in at a mere volume of 16.1 cubic centimeters. That is less than 1/3 of the size it was back in September!

The target volume is 4.3 cubic centimeters — and according to the apparent trajectory based on existing data, that could happen as soon as February 4th!

(What!?)

I should say here that I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with my medical team since receiving these scan results. Last time I heard from them, I was told that anything over 1 cm in diameter (or 4.2 cubic centimeters in volume) would result in their continued official recommendation of surgery. Anything below that size, and they’ll be declaring “No Evidence of Disease.” To them, it is all very black-and-white.

That is all to say, until I get that totally negative scan, I’ve got my work cut out for me.

But I am feeling confident. I trust in the healing power of my body, I trust the universe and spirit to guide me along the path, and I trust myself to do my best and follow that guidance.

The data seems to show that I am on the right track — so onward I go!

My next appointment to speak with my doctors and review these scan results is not for another month, and I’ll likely be asked to perform my next scan in February or March. And between now and then, I intend to continue doing what I’ve been doing, with renewed vigor and conviction, and with ever-greater dedication, focus and joy.

After my upcoming retreat with other young cancer survivors through the Send It Foundation next week, I don’t have much planned beyond re-normalizing at home after a busy holiday season. I’ve entered the new year with some powerful intentions — not only to take inspired action in order to achieve that NED scan, but also to spend time every day building my writing craft and to continue integrating my life.

I look forward to keeping in touch about how my health journey is progressing, and I'll be sharing other fun creative offerings along the way. I feel excited to have shared some of my intentions with you in my annual letter — and while it also feels a bit scary, I also know that owning our dreams in community also creates accountability and a greater likelihood those dreams will be realized.

Here is to all our greatest dreams coming true!

Love,

Nils

Thanks for being you!