Chapter 12


Next we had been reading material about the success that was being attributed to laetrile injections for some cancer patients in Mexico. Laetrile being a derivative from the pits of apricots, basically it‘s main ingredient, we were told, was arsenic (poison). It was not approved for use in Canada, so we searched the grapevine to find out how to obtain it. It turned out we couldn’t get it, legally, anywhere. I wasn’t involved much in the search to find it, I was just the one that was to be injected with it. The lump was getting bigger in my throat only instead of severe headaches; this time I was having difficulty with sleeping. Actually the novelty of this cancer thing was starting to wear off.

We came across a woman who was able to obtain the laetrile somehow. She was, or at one time, used to be a nurse. She lived way out of town in the bushes; I remember this, as it was a long and winding drive, feeling more and more nauseous whenever we left her place. She not only could get the stuff but would be willing to administer it to me as well. We went to her house late one evening, and as they say, ‘It was a dark and rainy night’. I was tired, not overly positive and her place gave me the creeps. First she had beads hanging in place of doors in the house, as well as marijuana plants growing here and there. She didn’t fit my view of someone I could trust with my life. My youthful bias was out in full force, or maybe I was just in tune with my intuition.

I didn’t want to be there, and yet I was, somehow by choice. She was only trying to help and it was us who had contacted her, she was kind enough to open her house and her life to our prejudices and try to help. We talked with her some, though I don’t remember much of the visit. She administered the laetrile by injecting through a short tube, like a short IV at the hospital. It was all I could do not to be ill while she had me hooked up. I developed a permanent deep hate for being hooked up to IV’s that night. When she was done she suggested to us that valerian root made into a tea might help with my sleeping problems.

We went to her place for injections a couple of times, when finally I decided that this was enough. That was the last time we left her house, for myself, I knew I could never go back. Whether the laetrile was a viable option or not I didn’t feel good about it, I didn’t feel I was getting any better and I didn’t want to weight to be proven wrong my gut feelings were important to me and they were in concordance with trying something else, now! Fortunately my family respected that.

We did take her advice and bought some valerian root though. It had to be kept in a sealed container; the smell alone could make you pass out. We would cut off a small portion and seep it for tea. The house would reek, I couldn’t drink it hot, it smelled like dirty socks. I found if I waited till it was cool enough to gulp down, I could do it. Then within half and hour I was asleep, so it did work, or seemed to. All in all, we had come out of the adventure learning something. As I was to find, through all the events that followed. I’d learn a little here and a little there, the combination of which, I believe played a huge part in my survival.