There’s a kind of trance that can settle over the medical system. A trance of certainty. Of prognosis. Of pre-written scripts that people are expected to follow.
But what happens when you pause… question… listen within?
There are several moments that come to mind.
A surgeon once told me I had more tumors and would need to lose my entire breast. Something in me said no. He was kind, but firm: “You’re wrong.”
After he left, I checked my paperwork—and found he’d been looking at the wrong breast. The masses were benign. He called later to apologize. It felt sincere. But also like damage control.
And on the day of surgery, the offers came one after another:
“Do you want something to help you relax?”
“No Thanks.” I was calm.
Different nurses asked again. And again.
Four times.
Each time I said no.
I trusted my body.
Because I didn’t take the medication, I woke from surgery feeling alert, grounded, and well enough to go out to eat before going home.
After surgery, I felt complete. But when I told the nurse navigator, she gently patted my knee and said, “You have a long road ahead of you.”
She wasn’t trying to be dismissive. But she couldn’t see that my road might be different from the one she was trained to expect.
But one event that really really broke the trance was when I was sitting in the radiologist’s office with my nurse navigator on one side and my husband on the other. The radiologist entered—charming, polished, like he had just stepped off a medical TV show set.
He explained how they now use specific breath techniques during treatment to protect the lungs from radiation exposure. His confidence was reassuring. I was genuinely impressed and deeply relieved to hear more holistic approaches being incorporated into the medical process.
I nodded along, heart open, mind open—maybe too open.
Even as he spoke, I was already imagining how I’d navigate the daily appointments, how I might meet people, gather stories, learn more. A part of me was thinking: Maybe I’m meant to go through this so I can share it with others. Maybe this is part of my service.
I was spiritualizing it before I had even said yes.
After he left the room, I was already trying to make it all work. That’s when my husband looked at me—steady, loving—and asked, “Why are you already saying yes?”
His question pierced the trance.
When we got home, he started doing more research. And when I finally had a moment to step out of the spell of being agreeable, open, and “spiritually positive,” I dropped into something deeper: my truth.
It was a no. A clear, grounded, embodied no.
And DeWayne’s research supported my “no” with logic.
Sometimes, the most radical thing you can do is stay awake.
Stay in your body. Stay in your truth—even when everything around you is asking you to hand it over.
Before you step into any room where decisions might be made about your body, your care, your future—pause.
What do you know to be true right now?
What is your body whispering beneath the noise?
You don’t have to figure everything out ahead of time.
But you can root yourself in the knowing that your voice matters.
That your presence belongs in the room.
Ask yourself:
What do I want to stay connected to, no matter what is said?
What would help me feel grounded, not swept away?
Even one clear thread—one breath of truth—can be enough.
Have an advocate come with you to your appointments.
Give yourself time and space after each appointment to really sit in your own energy and uncover your truth.
Notice the ways you can be influenced by those in authority and in their environment.
Explore ways to reclaim and stand in your sovereignty.
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