Beyond Apple-Cider Vinegar
Facing cancer, I explored both natural healing and medicine. This journey taught me balance, resilience, and what true wellness means.
Sitting in a stark hospital room in late 2013, I felt the walls closing in as my doctor delivered the news: “It’s a chronic blood cancer. You’ll need to be on medication for the rest of your life. We recommend a mild form of chemotherapy.”
I was in my early 30s with young kids at home and now faced a future ruled by medication. The weight of my diagnosis and sudden loss of control hit me like a Mack truck.
As I faced my diagnosis and treatment, Jess Ainscough and Belle Gibson were rising to stardom in some foreign wellness world. At the time, I had rarely eaten kale, let alone tried green juice. I’d never questioned a doctor’s orders — until a friend texted, “Hey babe, have you heard of Jess Ainscough? Google her.”
I did. And everything shifted. Jess claimed to be managing her cancer with alternative therapies and her story ignited something in me — not just hope, but a sense of control. After all, that’s what I truly craved — control over my fate, my body, my illness. Maybe, just maybe, this was my way out.
Beyond hope lay fear. Doubts crept in. Would natural healing work? What if I failed? What if I died? I faced a cruel choice: accept a life tethered to harsh medication or gamble everything on the uncertain promise of natural healing.
Still, going against my doctor’s orders to medicate, I plunged into natural healing with my stomach in knots. At first, it felt positive. I loved serving my kids green smoothies instead of the usual cheese and crackers. But the deeper I went, the more overwhelmed I became. Sugar, wheat, dairy, heavy metals … everywhere I turned, another carcinogenic lurked. Desperation took over. A crazed healing junkie was born.
Over the next year, fear drove me to try everything. Naturopathy, energy healing, chakra cleansing, reflexology, herbal medicine, reiki — you name it, I tried it. I filled our home with organic foods, practised yoga and qi gong and visualised a disease-free life. But despite my efforts, nothing worked. The cancer remained.
Then one morning, 14 months after my diagnosis, I opened an email that stopped me in my tracks. It was an announcement: Jess Ainscough had died. I stared at the screen in disbelief. She had rare cancer. I have rare cancer. She was trying to heal naturally. I am trying to heal naturally. Panic surged through me. Medicate. MEDICATE NOW. At 9am, with a lump in my throat, I was on the phone arranging the prescription.
I didn’t let go of what Jess had inspired in me. Medication stabilised my blood platelets but left me drained. Meanwhile, wellness practices helped me cope. Herbs eased the drug’s side effects, whole foods and exercise gave me strength, meditation cleared my mind. I found a balance: Western medicine was necessary to manage my cancer, while holistic remedies were essential for my quality of life.
Beyond all of this, the most profound healing happened when I turned to self-inquiry. Inner work is hard to define. It’s personal and ongoing. For me, it was the slow unravelling of fear and control. Cancer didn’t create these patterns; it exposed them. Healing wasn’t just about my body; it was about confronting the deeper issues that drove me to act from fear and control in the first place. Inner work restored my sense of self, bringing peace, even with cancer.
To feel truly whole, my physical, mental and spiritual health all needed my attention. I needed Western medicine and plant medicine, doctors and therapists, pharmacists and spiritual guides. All of it was necessary. In the end, I didn’t need the applecider vinegar to be well. True wellness is a journey that runs far deeper.
With hindsight, I can now say this: it’s not about picking a side. My body needed medical intervention when faced with cancer. Doctors and medication saved my life. Period. Equally, I can listen to doctors and eat kale. I can take medication and support my body, mind and spirit in other ways. Medication stabilised my cancer. Holistic practices gave my mind and body strength. Together, they allowed me to truly live, not just survive.
The problem isn’t in how we choose to heal ourselves. It’s in our culture’s need to make healing an either/or choice. Medicine versus nature. Traditional versus alternative. True healing isn’t about rejecting one approach for another. By integrating and appreciating differing approaches, we can start to dismantle the polarisation that pervades not only our approaches to health but also our whole world.
