I just celebrated the one year anniversary of my expiration day—the day conventional medicine predicted I would prematurely die from recurrent cervical cancer. I was given fifteen months to live when I was diagnosed in Feb 2016. That meant I needed to have my affairs in order on or around my forty-fifth birthday in May 2017.
This week I celebrated by forty-sixth birthday with my best friend and her newborn baby. Miracles, life and joy abound.
I’m living proof radical remissions are possible. Proof that Western medicine doesn’t have all the answers all the time. That patients are people, not statistics.