Chemo cherries and Pac Man

Every morning I wake up and drink the most horrible concoction of wheat germ gross. Well, maybe it’s not exactly wheat germ  – it’s a Hungarian thing that is meant to boost the immune system and help kill bad cells (aka, cancer cells).

Combine that with the chemo drugs and we’ll have a game of Pac Man. The little ghosty cancer cells (if they’re in my body still) will be floating around the grid stalking my healthy Mrs Pac Man with her pretty pink bow. But BAM – here comes a chemo cherry and now it’s going wild. She’ll gobble them whole, boosting up on immune system lives, and send them all to ghost prison where they die-die-die. In my game the ghosts never come back; I always hated how the nasty buggers were allowed to escape the centre box. In this version they are eaten and then disappear from the entire series. If you proceed to the next level it’s a breeze because all the ghosties have been eradicated, and Mrs Pac Man is welcomed to chomp in a healthy, cancer-free grid.

So I’m taking the terrible wheat germ stuff. Every morning I wake up and shoot it down with a quarter glass of almond milk. At first it was a twist in my arm, but now I’m beginning to own the habit.

My mom often talks about ‘owning your space’. I know others who do this well, so can imagine what she means – wherever you go, whatever situation, you make your place. I’ve been so anxious about entering the chemo room, with its numbered chairs and cancer patients, and I’m a little concerned that it’s the anxiety, not the chemo, that may send me into freak-out mode.

MRI and the dizzy dye was exactly the same. I had a mediocre peanut butter sandwich but that was no reason to faint on the nurses, almost take an ambulance ride, and vomit my guts up after the scan. It was all nerves. All nerves.

We’re practicing ‘owning spaces’ but it doesn’t come naturally. Another thing on my to-do list: visualizations. Every time I even imagine the treatment room butterflies start to flutter. Nerves again, needing to be conquered.

Honestly, I’m terrible at Pac Man. But with the supplements and drinks and treatments and consultations, I’ll jam that grid full of cherries. It’s time to go fruit salad.

4 thoughts on “Chemo cherries and Pac Man

  1. Hi Catherine,

    I’ve never heard Marcelle talk about “owning your space”, but it sounds like a really interesting topic. Humm… can you suggest to her that this could be a topic for one of her “Mastermind” teleseminars? I know it would be helpful for me.

    It reminds me of my 6th session with your dad many years ago. Why the 6th? Because it was such an awesome experience, it changed my life completely. Anyway, after my session, when I went back to work, my energy field was so big that I was walking in the middle of the corridors since I didn’t want my energy field to touch the walls… imagine, little shy me striding down the corridors as though I owned the place. It’s a feeling of confidence and knowing that you are allowed to take up space and be counted. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been a shy person who tries to be unseen.

    Your Mrs. PacMan visualization eagerly gobbling up toxic substances and cells, clearing the grid at each level as she goes higher and higher is very cool.

    I’m wishing for you a strong energy field with white and yellow light emanating from your body whenever you go for your chemo treatments.

    Thinking about you often with my own visualizations.

    Much love,


  2. Hi Catherine,

    we’ve all had butteflies at one point or another but the key is for you to train your butterflies to fly in formation. Then, it’s not so “un-nerving”. And both your mom and dad can help you train those little “buggers”.


    France 🙂

  3. please Catherine, do leave the place to receive tenderness too.
    Tenderness like sugar in your fruit salad, it’s not really useful, perhaps unnecessary, but so good…
    Tendres bises à la super bloggeuse !

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