by Susan Lee, UK.
I recently became aware of how stubborn I can be – I have always known it, but this time I felt it at a deeper level. A week or so after this awareness I became constipated.
A few days later I noticed some blood along with my faeces – twice this occurred before I took action. As I am writing this I can see how deep-rooted this stubbornness is and how it has become part of my day-to-day living. I will not listen to my body giving me signs that everything is not OK until the last minute.
My first appointment with my local General Practitioner was great – he gave me an internal examination and the time spent with him felt as though he was a deeply caring man. He found nothing conclusive and referred me to my local hospital.
My next appointment was quite a different experience and, in retrospect, I realized I had not been taking the events seriously. I can now see, in hindsight, that I did not wish to even contemplate that I may have colon cancer, as this would mean that I would need to start taking responsibility for how I have lived my life. For many years now it has made sense to me that illness didn’t just happen to me, and that the way I responded to stress somehow harmed my body.
On meeting the surgeon I felt uncomfortable and unable to connect and open up to him. His manner was polite and brief, but he was not communicative and seemed unwilling to make eye contact. It felt difficult to relax and ask questions. The nurse took me into a side room and told me to ‘pop down my pants and trousers.’ When I went to take off my boots she suggested that I leave them on. I complied with her instructions although everything in my body was telling me differently. I felt very demeaned by the whole experience – as though I was not worthy of the time to prepare myself in a way that would have supported me to feel comfortable and safe in what felt like an invasive procedure. (This felt a bit like having sex in the back of a car – uncomfortable and rushed).
I came away with a clear understanding of how easily I complied with other people’s suggestions and did not say what felt comfortable for me and what did not. I allowed them to set the ground rules of what was to be the examination of my colon. This situation allowed me to see that this is how I have lived my life – allowing others to set the ground rules, so that I could then hold on to resentment that I have not been treated properly.
This visit led to another internal examination and a scope was inserted into the lower part of my colon.
A couple of weeks later I was called back to have a full colonoscopy and my heart sank when I saw that the letter had come from the same surgeon. In the meantime I spoke to a couple of friends who had undergone a colonoscopy and this helped me to gain some insight and practical information concerning the procedure. I realised that if I was to meet the same surgeon it was my responsibility to change this meeting into a different, more pleasant and loving experience. Maybe this was an opportunity to shift some of my stubbornness? Also, not to hold onto the resentment of the previous meeting.
I allowed myself to be driven to the hospital by a friend (having initially brushed aside her offer because ‘I didn’t want to be too much trouble’). As I am writing this blog I am starting to see how I allow stubbornness to come between me and making life simple and feeling the beauty of allowing others to support me. It was so lovely to have her support, and it allowed me to approach the procedure in quite a different way. I felt more open to what was about to happen. I approached the meeting in a way that felt as though I was embracing the examination rather than seeing it as something I needed to endure. (Another old pattern showing me the way I approach life.)
On arrival I was greeted and felt welcome and much more at ease than on my previous visit to the hospital. The nurse who explained what was to happen was open and lovely. In the past I have always shrunken away from anything too ‘bloody and messy’ and was amazed to find myself engaging with the nurse and the wonderful charts that were up on the wall. I did this because I thought: ‘after all, it is my body that is about to be invaded.’ Having a scope inserted into your anus is one of the most invasive procedures that I could have imagined, but here was I asking to be shown the exact journey of the scope.
The nurse was most reassuring that the team were there to support me and make everything as comfortable as possible. She also added that the doctor was lovely – and he was. This time it was a different person. However, I feel that because I was starting to let go of my stubbornness and realising that I may have misjudged the first surgeon – that maybe he was not being uncommunicative but that I was not allowing people into my life – this experience was going to be quite different. I was now more open to allowing things to take their natural course. It felt more lovely than I would have realised to at last be seeing that I could be wrong and to not be a victim of circumstances.
I decided that as I wished to watch the examination on the screen and be able to remember the details afterwards that I would choose to have gas and air rather than sedation. It was reassuring that if I was uncomfortable they could stop at any time and that I would still be able to have sedation. I explained to the doctor that I wished to watch everything and they adjusted the screen and table.
Was this really me asking for support? It felt a little surreal. I had a ‘good view’ and while I was watching the screen they slipped the scope inside quite effortlessly and from then on I was totally absorbed and fascinated that as I lay on the table I was seeing inside my body. I could vaguely feel the scope but what I was seeing was my beauty-full colon. It was wonderful to see the formation and how it functioned, the colour and the texture – and how healthy it looked.
It was quite unlike any other experience I have ever had – it took my breath away. It truly gave me a whole new insight into my body and how it works, and I now feel I have a far more intimate relationship with my colon and with what I put into it – to more deeply honour and respect it. I am so grateful that I was given this opportunity and I have learned so much more about myself through the entire process.
Some weeks have passed and I was starting to realise, after having sessions with an esoteric practitioner, that constipation is something that I have been avoiding dealing with since the age of twelve. It is only now, at the age of sixty-seven, that I am willing to start looking at my behaviour and patterns that I have held onto for the last fifty-five years.
In the past I have considered constipation as an annoying occurrence and totally ignored my body telling me that there is something in my life that is not quite right – that my body does not enjoy having all this waste product lingering around and polluting it. Would I leave rotting rubbish hanging around in my home? No way. Yet, I stubbornly hung on to my way of dealing with the problem, which never solved it. It just meant I did not have to admit that everything was not OK – I could go on pretending to the world that I was this healthy woman!
I am starting to see that my stubbornness is about me holding on to the way ‘I have always done things’ and how I think life should be and that this arrogance does not serve or support me being who I truly am. This feels to be much the same as my colon holding on to all the rubbish from my body rather than letting it go and allowing my body to flow – when I am stubborn I can feel my whole body contract. Apparently, there are two sphincter muscles in the rectum that deal with clearing the faeces from the body, the internal sphincter that is controlled by the autonomic response (over which we have no control) and the external sphincter, which is under the control of our will. It is no wonder I am constipated when I stubbornly hold on to ‘my way’ of living life.
I am now beginning to realize that the way I have lived life is not that of a healthy woman but a woman who has struggled through life stubbornly not listening to others in case I may have to look at my part in what goes wrong and take responsibility.
At last I feel I am beginning to grow up and stop running away from life and embrace it. None of this would have been possible without the love and support I have felt from Serge Benhayon, Universal Medicine and all those wonderful practitioners.
When I reach outside of myself I find there is so much support – from my lovely GP, to the doctor in the colonoscopy unit and his team and finally to the support and encouragement I have received in writing this blog.
I do feel blessed.