Metamorphosis by Tom Tam

 

 

 
 

Excerpts

From the " It Is Not a Joke " Chapter

“Yesterday, I had a new patient, only 14 years old. His doctor said the same thing to his family - only six months to live. Six months to me is a long time. Many of my patients' doctors say they have only three months to live,” I say.

“What does the boy have?” Karen asks me.

“A form of nerve cancer. He had his left kidney removed also. Now the tumor has spread to the whole body,” I reply.

“Did you treat him?” Melissa asks.

“Of course, I did. But the boy wanted me to give him a consultation first before the treatment. I know he wanted me to say 'poor baby' first. That is really a waste of my time. I did the treatment right away.”

“How does he feel?” Melissa asks me again.

“He got mad at me because I did not tell him when I put the needles in him. I put 15 needles in his back and he didn't feel them.”

“I remember when you put needles in me, I never could feel them,” Karen says. “How is the treatment going? I know you can help him.”

“I think that it is an easy case for me. I think he should feel better. I hope after you feel better and go back to a normal life, you can sell my book,” I say to Melissa with confidence again.

“Of course I can publish your book, if I can get rid of the cancer,” Melissa says with a smile.

“I want you and Karen to go to people's homes and knock on their doors to sell my books,” I joke with them.

“That is no problem,” Melissa says. “Tom, do you want to know the new chemo I use now?”

“No, I don't want to know anything about it. I know you used the 5FU.”

“But it didn't help,” Melissa says.

“Chemo is chemo. The philosophy is to kill the cells. What is the difference between them? No matter which type of chemo you use, you are a guinea pig.”

“My doctor said if this new chemo does not help, I may only have six months to live.”

“Six months is half a year. To me it is a long time for healing. If you wait for six months to pass, time will pass too fast. If you are fighting, we can do a lot in half a year. So, do you want to wait or fight?” I ask.

“Of course, I want to fight the cancer!” Melissa exclaims.

“You are still so weak. If you use chemo, maybe you will not have six months to live. Chemotherapy can kill live cells before it kills cancer cells. I know many people who have died from the chemo, not the cancer.” I talk to them seriously. This is not a joke even on a foolish day.

“Am I hopeless?” Melissa says, half -joking.

“I hope you are an easy case. I can tell you, today you will feel much better. You will feel the tumor start to get smaller.” I don't want to keep talking. I want to start the treatment.

“Are you ready?” I ask her.

“What should I do?” she asks.

“Not a thing. Just push your back into the chair.”

I begin doing Chi Gong treatment on her.

“Do you feel something moving in your stomach area?” I ask.

Melissa looks at me. I know she is confused now. I can tell from her eyes.

“Seems like something is moving.” She holds her abdomen.

“That is the Chi moving. Do you feel the tumor getting smaller?”

“Karen, it seems the tumor is smaller.” Melissa seems a little surprised.

“I told you this guy is a voodoo doctor,” Karen says.

“But my voodoo works,” I say to Melissa, smiling. Melissa does not believe what I am saying, but nevertheless pushes her stomach harder. “Push your stomach hard again. Don't worry about the pain,” I tell her, to try to test the results.

  “Yes, there is much less pain, and it is softer now!” Melissa is surprised. She is beginning to believe, and is getting excited.

“Six months ago you should have come for a treatment. I mean, last year when you joined my Pi Gu class you should have come for cancer treatment,” I say. “But I understand that until your doctor gives up, you won't come to see me. You have wasted half the year when you could have given yourself more of a chance.”

“I hope you can help her,” Karen says and smiles. Her smile carries the confidence gained from her recent experience with my Chi Gong healing.

“I trust you,” Melissa says.

“You don't need to trust me, but don't argue with the truth.” I say, “Look, you feel better already. Is it true?”

Melissa keeps pressing her abdomen and looking at Karen. Karen looks at her and awaits her answer.

“It is much less painful and softer now,” Melissa says.

I don't want to talk more to her. I ask her to lie down for the acupuncture treatment.

After half an hour, the treatment is done. It is a very successful treatment. Melissa feels a big change compared to an hour before. I hope it is not too late; six months is half a year.

I walk out of the treatment room. Again, the thought comes: six months is half a year.

 

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