Rick Hill Too Young to Die: Dramatic Use of Vitamin B17 Laetrile to Conquer Terminal Cancer 096027040X, 9780960270408

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The dramatic story of a young man’s triumph over terminal cancer RN through laetrile and nutrition. \

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Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2021 with funding from Kahle/Austin Foundation

https://archive.org/details/tooyoungtodieO000hill

First Edition- April 1979 Second Edition- November 1987 Third Edition- September 1991

This book is written for religious and educational purposes only. It is not to be used commercially to promote the sale of any product mentioned herein or to solicit any business to any organization mentioned herein.

Copyright © 1987 by Rick Hill

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author. Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data -79-87783 Printed in the United States of America

Distributed by: The Frontrunners 1820 Homestead Trail Long Lake, MN 55356-9352 800-237-5199 612-473-6799

DEDICATION TO Dr. Ernesto Contreras R. whose courage has provided hope to thousands of desperate people. and Dr. Forrest Shaklee, Sr. whose vision and philosophy of life inspired generations to live healthier lives.

CONTENTS FOP WOU Gti o i cick oat Sede se cones neces ee ee ge ee 5 PLefac@. scan react cc creole coast tenes eater eet auee aes 6 Part One- Rochester, Minnesota................sc0se 10 Chapter,Oneé] sb is fomMEUnUCh 00. eee 11 Chapter Two- Eight Hours of Surgery.................. 22 Chapter Three=1% Chance to Lives y... 4523-4. 36 Chapter Four- 13¢ Saved\My Life3 .c 49 Chapter Five- One Heavy Decision to Make.......... 62 Part Two- Tijuana, MeXico............ccccecccssccssscees 71

Chapter One- The Mexican Connection................ 72 Chapter Two- Love is Spelled “Soldier”................. 79 Chapter Three- Living Among the Dying............... 87 Part Three- Boca Raton, Florida..................0. 100 Chapter:One- Detoxification......-2..5-0 ee eee 101 Chapter Two7Atirmationi...2.. aes e eee eee 113 Modified; Diet Sheet.e

Too Young To Die 4

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FOREWORD Since the first edition was written in April of 1979, my views and life circumstances have changed. It has been over seventeen years now since I faced stage three cancer and the prospects of dying. In many ways my health is better now than it was before I got cancer because I have learned principles of diet and detoxification. My children are teenagers now and for them my battle with cancer is a story they read about in a book. They have never really seen me miss a day of work due to illness. My life circumstances changed when my ten year marriage ended in divorce in 1981. However, in the main, these last years have been a wonderful gift. For those who helped me preserve it, thank you! Rick Hill Too Young To Die 5

PREFACE Rick Hill came to see me for the first time on a busy morning in the Fall of 1974 looking for an alernative in the threatment of his cancer. Justa few weeks earlier he had surgery at the Mayo Clinic where they diagnosed a very agressive embryonal cell carcinoma and urged him to start a strong chemotherapy protocol if he wanted to have a good chance of survival. The Surgeon and the Oncologist were Shocked when Rick refused to accept the chemotherapy and when Rick told them he wanted to try a non-toxic program, they warned him about his foolish decision and predicted fatal consequences. But Rick was not afraid and came to consult me. According to his medical records, my orthodox background told me this young man was playing with fire, but he was such a joyful, positive thinker and his optomism was so contagious, that I did not hesitate to give him complete freedom of choice and recommended a completely non-toxic non-agressive program. We both prayed faithfully that God's will be done and felt the assurance that all would be all right. And it surely was! He has been in complete remission ever since 1974! I am sure this wonderful response to natural 6 Too Young To Die

methods is considered by orthodox standards as another case of spontaneous remission, totally anecdotal, with no statistical significance. Well documented spontaneous remissions or regressions in cancer are considered extremely rare; one in every 80,000 or 100,000 cases. This is the official criterium. However, in my twenty-five years of treating cancer using non-toxic and natural programs, my Statistics are quite different. In very advanced or so called “terminal” stages, I see at least five recoveries or remissions in every one

hundred cases. In strictly orthodox media, the non-conventional methods are still considered a hoax, or at least totally ineffective; producing just a placebo effect. But then, how come we see “spontaneous remissions” so frequently? The explanation I can give, not only in Rick's case, but in thousands of cases is simple. Medicine practiced as a pure science working only in the biological area, will always have a lot of problems treating cancer and the spontaneous regression will continue to be the exception. But medicine practiced as an Art/Science, giving due importance to natural methods and to the care of the psychological and spiritual areas of the cancer patients, will produce much better results and so called spontaneous regressions will be seen pretty frequently. The orthodox doctors have coined the term “spontaneous” because they can't find a reasonable explanation for those regressions in which, scientifically speaking, “nothing” has been done to the patients. But we know now that good nutrition, Too Young To Die 7

vitamins, non-toxic anti-tumor agents, positive

thinking and a good spiritual attitude are extremely helpful and can no longer be considered placebos. They will soon constitute a basic part in the mulltidisciplinary management of cancer.

I believe it is time to forget old misunderstandings and rivalries between the conventional and non-conventional doctors for the sake of real progress in the treatment of cancer.

I hope that this edition of Too Young to Die will give the reader a wider perspective and a better understanding on how to prevent and treat malignant disease. Rick Hill's personal experience will be a great inspiration and an example for doctors and lay people about what will be Oncology in the near future: less aggressive, more human, and best of all, more effective. Life is our most precious gift from God and we must do our best to make it abundant and productive. I thank God for Rick's life and testimony.

Respectfully yours, Dr. Ernesto Contreras R., M.D.

September 5, 1991 Tijuana, Mexico

8 Too Young To Die

Too Young To Die 9

PART ONE ROCHESTER,

10 Too Young To Die

MINNESOTA

CHAPTER ONE

“E” is for Eunuch September 20, 1974 Mayo Clinic Rochester, Minnesota

What a way to start the day. I walked slowly back to my sixth floor Mayo Clinic room in St. Mary’s Hospital. It was one of those beautiful early fall days with bright sparkling sunshine. Cool morning air gently pushed newly fallen maple leaves along the well manicured grounds. I walked slowly down to the lounge which overlooked the parking lot. The sign over the window read, “Please do not open window,” which made me feel eternally sealed off from any strength and beauty. That morning Dr. Bertagnol had walked into his office and greeted me. His office was Too Young To Die 11

not like any other doctor’s office I had ever visited. There were no tongue depressors, ear flashlights, anatomy charts or yellowed degrees for wall groupings. This office was purely modern and expensively decorated. “Mr. Hill,” he began, “you have undergone a great deal of surgery and are doing pretty well. We now know that your cancer is, uh, wide spread—it’s in your lymph system and is classified stage three.” “Not good huh?” I asked. “Not good at all,” he said, without blink-

ing. I liked this doctor for some reason. He didn’t talk with the editorial “we” or look over the top of his glasses and grunt at me or say dumb things which neither of us really believed. That day a little bed-side manner would have been in order. The axe was falling. I was only twenty-three years old. What about our baby that was due in four months? What about the hospital bill that was already over

$5,000? What about a lot of things...this just wasn't how I wrote the script. Where’s the eraser? 2H 2k2c ieaeae2c he2 2 2c 2cicfeai2c2c2c feateaieacaie2feaieacafcaiefkikaie2kacake2c2ca 2k

Thirteen years ago I could not celebrate. Today I can. Since that stormy time I’ve seen 12 Too Young To Die

the birth of and enjoyed the company and love of two nearly perfect children. I’ve enjoyed recognition as a speaker, writer and radio personality. Each year Hill Enterprises markets over a million dollars of vitamins and health care products nationally. Every morning during my walk I celebrate my children, my health, my business, my art, and the people in my life with whom I share these wonderful gifts. Seventeen years ago I made a decision which I believe saved my life. It’s a decision perhaps you are facing today. Seventeen years ago I was desperately searching for a way out of the valley of death. Ishare my story because it’s astory of hope. The reader may not find a magical formula for health or the answer toa particular problem but you will meet someone who today is called “daddy” by two kids he was destined never to meet. Their daddy is glad

just to be alive. My story begins in 1966. Tenth grade is

such a stormy time for young people. They have so much energy, so much to prove and to discover. We had just moved from Roseville, to Detroit, Michigan; a distance of about five

miles. And like most kids, I felt a little lonely being the new kid on the block. In Roseville,

we were greasers, we were cool, we were “where

Too Young To Die 13

it was at.” But now in the city proper, things were different. On the east side, they were “soches.” They wore penny loafers, madras shirts and parted their hair. Not us. We wore

our hair straight back, lots of leather clothes and most of all, perfected the “strut” when we walked. But these forerunners of today’s Yuppies didn’t like greasers. SoI changed. To asoch. I’m so ashamed. I missed my leather clothes and my switchblade knife. How could I protect myself anymore? Detroit had just started having violent racial tensions and here Iwas unarmed. Muscles! Ihad to have muscles. That year a friend of mine and I lifted weights and gulped high protein drinks made from brewers yeast, soya powder, sea kelp, peanut oil, raw eggs and orange juice in vain hopes of becoming a “real man.” I was a late bloomer, which means that I was in the eleventh grade before my mother bought me my first jock. I was so embarrassed that I had to read the instructions and my jock was the only one with darts. I was four feet eleven inches tall and weighed less that 110 pounds. Four foot eleven. In high school. The average girl in high school is five foot three—that’s good scenery but not much fun. I always wanted big hands. Guys just 14 Too Young To Die

ought to have big hands. Most of the girls who were going steady wore their boyfriend’s class

ring.

To adjust the size they wrapped yarn around the inside of the ring to make it smaller. Not my girlfriend. She wore my class ring on her pinkie finger...and it was tight. So I was desperately trying to bulk up. One evening while doing bench presses, the barbell hurt when it touched my chest. I noticed my left breast (buckshots we called ‘em) was swollen and sore. Within two months it was enlarged to a rather embarrassing size. My mom assured me that it was just my “monkey glands” acting up—hormone changes—and like acne, it would go away with time. It didn’t. The doctor gave me two shots of something right in the boob. What agony! Several months went by without improvement. Surgery was scheduled and a benign tumor the

size of a walnut was excised. About a year later another tumor formed on the opposite side. It too was non-cancerous. Threeyears went by without a recurrence. By that time I had moved from the tenor section of the choir and didn’t use anymore College years came and went. Clearasil. Too Young To Die 15

Then, when I was in education in New Ulm, Minnesota,

another

tumor

formed.

I con-

sulted with a local physician who sent for my medical history. After he had studied my history and given me a physical exam, he said, “Mr. Hill, I've studied your case and your breast area is highly sensitive to the formation of tumor masses. I recommend that we remove the entire breast area on both sides. We'lljust cut on a line like a ‘V—you know, ‘V for Victory’; heh...heh...,” he said through breath that smelled like a wino's hat. “Yeah, well, how ‘bout you stick your ‘V’ for Victory in your victorious ear!” I consulted another doctor who recommended that just the tumor be removed. This third tumor was also benign. But one warm July afternoon I noticed another tumor. This one was different. It was in the scrotum. That got my attention. You can bet I didn’t go see Dr. “V for Victory” lest I should get sent back to the tenor section. “E for Eunuch” just didn’t excite me. I consulted a doctor who prescribed an antibiotic, hoping it was some form ofinfection. The tumor continued to grow. This was no way to become the envy of every guy in the locker room of the YMCA. I asked this doctor to refer 16 Too Young To Die

me to the Mayo Clinic since it was only about a four hour drive. I wanted to know why I was getting these tumors. Were they related? I felt OK, if I just stayed away from horseback riding. The first day of routine tests was anything but routine. I mean the Mayo Clinic is impressive! It’s amagnificent gleaming structure with marble floors, majestic floor to ceiling drapes, stainless steel machines and blinking lights. Attractive young nurses in white nylons scurry about poking, punching, sticking and writing. The second day I was simply ushered into a plush office. “The doctor will be with youin a moment,” she said. Just once I wish they’d have the honesty to say, “The doctor will be here when he gets good and ready to swagger in here. Since you are a mere mortal, your time can’t be as valuable as his. Just curl up with an old magazine and relax pal...it’ll be a while.” The young doctor, Alfred Bertagnol, entered the room. He was refreshingly direct and unlike the “soap” doctors, discussed my case with me, not at me. Helooked like he was from along line of old money, probably raised on the Island, drives a Porsche, wears a leather cap Too Young To Die 17

and regularly eats watercress sandwiches. But today he wore whites and was about to share the verdict. “Mr. Hill,” he began, clearing his medical throat, “most of these tumors are malignant. The only way to know for sure is to remove the tumor and run tests. I’ve scheduled you for surgery tomorrow at eight in the morning. Get checked in today before four this afternoon. Any questions?” Was he kidding? Any questions? How about...some general stuff like why me? Or who said I wanted to have this surgery? What do you mean “you scheduled me?” Can’t we negotiate this thing? I’m a successful guy. I’m only twenty-three years old and the principal of a parochial school. Any questions? The rest of the day was typically miserable. I had a liquid diet, an enema, shots, pills, and...that shavel The next morning came very early. The boys in white flopped my

drugged carcass on the gurney and off we went down the hall, to the right, through the swinging doors and into what looked like a tiled ball park to me. It had bleachers and was lighted to the max. The anesthesiologist told me about his procedure as he went. When the second needle hit my shoulder I was deter18 Too Young To Die

mined I could count to ten. One...two...three...four...five...s...i... That evening the doctor came around for our chat and all the family who were in the area had come. His matter of fact resonance broke the evening silence. “Mr. Hill, the tumor was malignant. You have one of two kinds of cancer. If you have the one kind your chances of recovery are good. If it’s the other kind your chances are poor.” “So,” I said, sitting up, “I’ve got cancer. How bad?” “Well, as I said, we really aren’t sure yet. Tomorrow we will do a test called a lymphangiogram to determine if it has metastasized or spread. Another doctor will perform this test but I will get a full report. OK?” “Sure.” The speed with which we decided on major treatment was unsettling. This one was slightly more than fifteen seconds. The room for the exam was like all the rest: clean, sterile, and indifferent. No personality. As I lay there, a metal plate was inserted in the top of my foot without novocaine because it would interfere with the dye being injected...slowly...with long needles. Without Too Young To Die 19

novocaine. Great. I have a standard policy on pain. I avoid it at all costs and this hurt! These little metal plates were inserted just under the skin and dye was to be pumped into my lymph system to rise up my leg. A large television monitor was in view to track the path of the dye. The first few attempts to insert the plates failed and I have the multiple scars on the tops of both feet to prove it. Finally they succeeded and sure enough, the dye began to rise on the screen. The results of the lymphangiogram were inconclusive. Dr. Bertagnol scheduled me for a consultation. Something was up, and it wasn't my morale. The young surgeon spoke plainly at the meeting. “We learned nothing from our recent test. I would suggest major surgery. I will remove all the lymph nodes down one side near your spine. Ifnone of them are malignant, I will stop there. If some are, then I’ll need to remove the other side as well and any other cancerous areas we may find. It is a very serious operation and very lengthy, about eight hours. This is standard procedure in a case like this.” I had some questions. 20 Too Young To Die

“You said serious. How serious? Like in dying type serious?” “There are risks involved in all major surgery but your case merits this surgery.” “I see. Will this surgery make me sterile?” “It could but it shouldn’t...what is your

decision?” he asked. “Let’s do the surgery, I guess,” I said glancing around at a few family members who were looking at the floor. Life and death discussed in thirty minutes. I couldn't believe this was really happening to me.

Too Young To Die 21

CHAPTER TWO

Eight Hours of Surgery Health is like the constant ticking of the mantle clock-we are oblivious to its presence...until it stops. I was finding how confusing, frustrating, expensive, and terrifying it is to be really sick. It hadn’t taken Dr. Bertagnol even thirty seconds to plan nearly eight hours of surgery with me. I agreed to have the surgery because “if my doctor thought it best, it must be right.” After all, who am I to argue with all that training and experience? If the doctor were wrong, he has learned a valuable lesson. If I am wrong, I’m dead.

Because of the risk involved, my family members from out-of-state were summoned. My father came from Texas, my brothers from Michigan and my sister from Montana. My 22 Too Young To Die

mother already lived in Minnesota. My former in-laws, the Bardwells, owned a successful road building construction business and lived in avery spacious and beautiful home capable of accommodating everyone. Because my parents were divorced some twenty years ago, my dad rented a motel room in Rochester.

Two nights before the surgery we all met at the Bardwell home for dinner. The atmosphere was a lot like a funeral and it gave me the creeps. There was an underlying solemnity that no one allowed to show. It was the usual spasmodic conversation punctuated with awkward silences. “Hey,” they'd say to me, “how have you been?” “Fine.” I'd say, lying. “Great!” (silence) “And you ?” (Forced smile followed by silence.) “Fine...fine...just fine.” (Silence.) “Yeah...just fine...” If we could have been all like “Spock” of Star Trek, we’d say what we were really thinking.

F “So, probably going to die soon , eh? Boy I’m glad it’s you and not me!” Of course no one would ever say that but Too Young To Die 23

I couldn’t have blamed them for thinking it. Everyone was glad to see each other and swap “old time” stories back and forth. I was forced to tell about the time I and twenty-five other kids skipped school to have an all day party and got caught. By my mom. Who told the principal? Or about the time I poured a container of B-B’s down a crack in the floor into the classroom below.

Everything went smoothly until my father-in-law made a phone call to a pastor friend of his who believed in faith healing. This pastor believed I could be healed without surgery and that the scheduled surgery was in fact, a demonic plot to take my life. My fatherin-law simply relayed the information to me privately. “Do you believe all that?” I asked. “[just don’t know,” he said with concern. “I know this pastor is not a crackpot. He’s helped a lot of people. Perhaps we should

consider all angles, son...there’s a lot at stake here. We should carefully consider his opinion,” he said, pacing back and forth from one side of the room to the other. “Are you suggesting that I not have that surgery?” “I said that I didn’t know for sure but that 24 Too Young To Die

is a lot of surgery and we know that demons are vicious and intelligent beings, bent on our destruction.” I sat thinking about all he had said and decided to share it with the rest of the family after dinner. Somehow I had a feeling that “faith healing” would not be a good “after dinner” subject for conversation, at least not with my family. The evening meal was quiet and very tasty. A crackling fire made shadows dance around the cathedral ceiling. The large woodbeamed chandelier cast its red glow on everyone as we sat by the fire trying to take the chill out of the early fall Minnesota air. There are three things in life that are God, Family and really important to me: Popcorn-but not necessarily in that order. And I wanted some popcorn. The scene that evening would have given Norman Rockwell a lump in his throat. Even the big shaggy dog was curled up by the fire. In the midst of this tranquility, astorm was brewing. I spoke first. “I sure appreciate all of you coming here.

It sure makes me feel better to know that my I just don't family cares about me.

know...uh...don’t know what to expect tomor -

row.

Too Young To Die 25

I couldn’t say anymore for a moment or two trying to hold back the emotion of panic in my voice.

“Les called a pastor friend of his this afternoon. I know some of you are going to disagree but this pastor feels that the surgery is not necessary and that I can be healed by prayer alone. I just wanted you to know that we are considering this.” And with that statement the fireplace was no longer needed. Norman Rockwell grabbed his canvas and headed for cover. You might say that, theologically, some members of my family didn’t agree totally with the concept of faith healing. A blood-curdling, “Faith what?” could be heard three-fourths of amile away. Roger, my oldest brother, leaped to his feet and began pacing back and forth in near hysteria. Normally he is very cool and rational but tonight it was the old “fat in the fire” time. No one had any trouble hearing him say, “What is all this drivel about faith-healing? Trash! Pure trash! You've got the finest doctors at the Mayo clinic you can find any-

where in the world. If you forgo their counsel you're an idiot! This pastor is a mystic, it’s all so subjective...not a bit rational. I’m telling you that you'd better forget it!” And with that 26 Too Young To Die

he stomped out of the room, partly due to anger and partly due to embarrassment. My dad just sat staring at me. In a quiet voice he said, “Ditto.” I got the point. Now it was my turn to respond. “OK—ORH! Butlet’s get one thing straight. It’s my life we're talking about here. All of you are upset because you care about me but if you make the wrong choice you loose a family member; if] make the wrong choice, I loose my life! No amount of theatrics can determine my decision. I’ve got to have time to think. I left the room for the small study off the dining room and sat quietly at the large rough cedar-sided desk which fit the rustic design of the house so well. While I sat, a beautiful firered cardinal perched just outside the window. Seeing that bird made me think about Jesus telling his disciples that if God cares for a sparrow, how much more must he care about a human life? The more I thought about God the more frustrated I became. Why couldn't I just ask God about my cancer and get a straight answer? Should! have the surgery or not? Yes or No? In all I've spent over ten years of my life studying theology. It is the queen of sciences. Just because I did not become a minister does Too Young To Die 27

not mean that all that time and money was wasted. An education like that, one that is constantly grappling with ultimate human issues, teaches you to think. It is not unlike other disciplines. There are many similarities to the studies of theology, physics, and mysticism; all have pre-suppositions which create order in the system. All demand faith to bring ideas full circle and all seem to have messiah’s and miracles. But sitting there that day, in that study, looking down the gun barrel of death, my mind was totally fixed on ultimate issues.

It seems to me that God never intended to be very definitive about a great many things. When I read what those recorded in the New Testament asked Jesus in private conversa-

tion, I’m always struck that they were getting answers to questions no one seems to be asking. Let’s start at square one. Indulge me. If Adam was created in the image and likeness of God, wouldn’t his God-like reasoning have rejected the offer of temptation? To what innate weakness did Satan appeal if Adam was created “very good” as the original language indicates? The origin of evil is not anew

topic for discussion. 28 Too Young To Die

The problem of pain

seems to be here for good. I’m not questioning why it exists but I’m real curious why so few asked about it. Israel’s election as a nation to be the chosen people of God has always stumped me. If Iwere Abraham and God told me one night that Sarah my wife, who was ancient, was going to start having babies left and right and that my ancestors would become God's chosen people...well, I'd have said, “Thanks. I’m flattered...really. But no thanks.” Then they made the mistake of putting it in print! Even in today’s society when people are not happy with someone else, they will ask, “Do you think you're God’s special gift or something?” I can’t think of a quicker way to alienate the entire planet than to even suggest that my people, my kind, are “the ones.” I don't envy the Jews. They've had a tough sale these last several thousand years. Natural disasters like earthquakes, floods, tornadoes and the like only puzzle me When children are kidwhen people die. napped and killed, I am always horrified. But when I think that God watched the whole episode, it makes this thing with cancer look If you have unimportant by comparison. cancer now or have experienced some unexToo Young To Die 29

plainable tragedy in your life, only you can understand the uncontrollable temptation to swat God upside the head. This is where my pre-supposition that God is good and what he does is goodness comes into play. For me it is a leap of faith. I cannot or will not explain the existence of evil in a world owned and operated

by a benevolent God. I simply light up “tilt.” It is for us the created of the species to believe and trust. I do. You may not want to and I understand that. I have earned the right to give you my opinion. I was there. I had cancer. After a while there was a knock at the door of the study.

My brother Sam (Sam Hill,

if you can believe that) stuck his head in and said, “Mind if I come in?” “No, Sam, come in. I’m just trying to clear my head.” He came in and sat in the chair opposite the glass-topped desk. Sam, like my dad, is more subdued; he never says much. He started to speak, but his eyes filled

with tears and his voice broke as he began.

“Ricky,” he began, ignoring the fact that I have not been called “Ricky” in about twenty years, “if you don’t have that surgery I'll just never forgive you, I'll just never speak to you again!” “Sam, if I have that surgery you may not 30 Too Young To Die

be able to speak to me again, in this life.” “You know,” he said, raising his voice, “what I mean!” “I think I’m going to have the surgery but just suppose that this pastor is right and there is some kind of nether-world conspiracy against me and I'm playing into their hands?” “Conspiracy? The only conspiracy I know of is a team of qualified medical specialists have done extensive tests on you and are telling you that you need to have this surgery.” I crossed the room and looked out across the Root River which flowed through the Bardwell property.

“Don’t you think that there’s an element of faith in what those doctors are doing? Don't you ever watch TV? It’s the proverbial patient who is told by seven different doctors that he has seven different diseases. You act as if they are all knowing or sovereign in their judgements or something. This attitude of doing whatever the doctor says is beginning to bother me. Did it ever occur to you that I might not have cancer at all?” “Nonsense. They’ve done too many tests, including tissue samples. You had a visible tumor. No. There is no room for error here.” “You might be right,” I said, sitting down Too Young To Die 31

again. “Why not just be my brother and back me no matter what, OK?” He got up and reached for the door. Before leaving he turned and spoke to me while looking at the floor. “Have that surgery,” he said. The door slowly clicked shut behind him. The next afternoon we left for the hospital. About three o’clock I checked in for “pre-op” procedures. I hadn’t had any solid food since last night and I was ravenously hungry. The anesthesiologist stuck his head in the door. “Hi!” he said, glancing at his clipboard. “Tomorrow we see you again, eh? Take care. I'll see you soon.” Everyone was coming about seven o’clock to see me. Most of the routine checking was done and I had an hour or so to myself. I went for a walk in the corridor and began to think about the surgery tomorrow. Have you ever jumped from avery high diving board and then changed your mind the instant you jumped? In the next hour my mind changed twice a second about the surgery. Soon family and friends began to arrive and my mind cleared. A friend of mine in financial planning from the college I attended came and offered me help in making out my will. My will! 32 Too Young To Die

Twenty-three years old and the wagons are circling. Our main concern was our child who was about five months away. Parochial education is not a very lucrative career. We figured that with the insurance money and after our mobile home was paid off, our “estate” was a whopping $5,000! We knew that no relatives would be fighting over our wealth. Several hours passed with visitors until it was time for everyone to leave. My wife thought about hiding under the bed until lights out but we decided against it. We all kissed good-bye and she remained behind a few moments. “You pray for me and don’t worry,” I said. “OK. I will. I just feel numb. So...”and with that she turned quickly and left the room. I settled back into bed. Soon the whole room blurred through my tears. This was it. I felt as one feels who returns home from along journey anxious to tell everyone all about it Or like the and finds the house empty. abandoned bride or groom at the alter- so terribly alone. Remember how you felt just before a final exam that could determine your future? Dread and anxiety. My palms began to sweat and I got very cold. All kinds of morbid thoughts entered my mind. Too Young To Die 33

“They are going to open me up from the breast bone down to the pelvic bone, and since

the lymph system they are after is along the spine, they will have to take out my stomach and intestines and everything. I can’t imagine the knife cutting or a gaping hole that big in me. Ill have to have a stomach pump and catheter...and... Stop it!” Iscreamed to myself. “Enough!” My heart was racing and my head was pounding. It was time to sleep now. I looked at the little travel clock on the night stand. “Eleven o’clock already,” I muttered. “About six o’clock the lady with shot comes. I wish she would come right now.” Tossing, turning, pillow fluffing, sheet straightening, leg scratching, yawning, and blinking followed, but no sleep. “I wonder how many people know that if you stare at a clock long enough you can actually see the minute hand moving?” I thought. The rest of the night

my thoughts turned to my childhood, of good and bad times, of my relationship to God, of everything except sleep. Tim Brooks made his way down the quiet hospital hall. At that hour of the morning only those unable to sleep observed his steps. Suddenly his voice broke the long night of 34 Too Young To Die

anticipation. “Mr. Hill, he whispered, “it’s time to prep

you for surgery.” The nurse came in with my shot of demerol and soon I didn’t care much about anything except closing my eyes. Just as I was beginning to drop off to sleep, two men came in with the wheeled table. The trip down the hall and into the operating room seemed so cold this time. I took special notice of the room as we entered. It was a large sterile room with plenty of “bleachers” for interns to watch. I sat up on the table and asked for Dr. Bertagnol to identify himself. He waved at me and then I recognized him behind the mask and bright lights. A nearby nurse pulled back the towel from the instrument tray...something I regretted looking at-sharp scalpels gleaming and glistening in the high intensity light. I lay back down and the anesthesiologist began taping my arms to the table. A towel was gently laid over my eyes and I started to pray silently. “Lord, this is it. Perhaps I'll see you soon. Hope not.” The needle hit my shoulders and I felt the table rise around my as if I were in quicksand. Eight hours later... Too Young To Die 35

CHAPTER THREE

One Per Cent Chance to Live “Dr. Young - answer line one - Dr. Young, line one.” The nasal sounding voice gave me the assurance I had survived the surgery. Noises were all so loud and distinct. Several minutes must have gone by as I tried to analyze where (or who)

Iwas.

With great concentration my

eyes opened to the recovery room, which seemed like a white linen parking ramp - I wasn't alone. There were many wheeled carts lined up with blinking lights and dripping I.V.s to maintain life under the sheets. It was cold in here. It occurred to me that I wasn’t supposed to be awake yet. “This one’s awake, Harry. Call down to the desk and tell ‘em...what? Let me look. OK. R. Hill - 6th floor, cancer ward.” 36 Too Young To Die

After what seemed like a long cold wait, we headed toward my room. The heavy sedation kept me from pain and constant consciousness; in and out, here for a moment or two and gone the next; like foaming waves along the ocean shores. After some time my father-in-law spoke to me. “Son, the doctor has assured us your surgery went well. He had to remove both sides of your lymph nodes - it was a lot of surgery.” Many family members came in and just stared at me. All the I.V.s were in place as well as the huge tube leading to the incision. The stomach pump was taped to the bridge of my nose and the urine bag hung conspicuously on the side of the bed. Of course, my family had never seen me this way. My sister had always seen me energetic and always on the go. Suddenly Dr. Bertagnol entered the room. Angrily he said, “I left strict orders that Rick was not to have visitors. He has had a tremendous amount of surgery and absolute rest is essential. Everyone must leave immediately!” The life of achemically dependent person must be horrible. I have never longed for anything like I wanted that four-hour shot of morphine. The first day wasn’t bad. Just after Too Young To Die 37

each shot I'd get this wonderful floating feeling with no pain at all. Then the pain would slowly return and by the fourth hour I was climbing the walls. The second day it seemed only one hour after the shot that my abdomen would begin to burn, my head would begin to pound, and I’d get nauseated. After a day or so a doctor, not my surgeon, came in to look me over. He examined me momentarily then angrily said to a nearby nurse, “Who is responsible for putting this stomach pump in?” It’s way too small! It'll never do!” He immediately untaped the tube from the bridge of my nose and began pulling the tube that reached my stomach through my nose. I felt like my whole insides were being ripped out. It had been a few hours since my last shot and I felt every inch of that tube. A nurse soon appeared in the doorway with a much larger stomach pump. I wondered how this doctor was going to get that stomach pump down me while I was conscious. The first pump was inserted while

I was still unconscious from the surgery. The doctor began putting the larger tube in my nose. When the tube passed into my throat I began to gag uncontrollably. The foot long 38 Too Young To Die

incision on my stomach began to stretch violently. The doctor began yelling in my ear, “Swallow! Swallow! Swallow!” Delirious with pain, I sat up in bed and shouted back, “ You're trying to kill me!” He forced me back down and by now the pump was already in. He straightened his coat, mumbled something to the nurse about additional pain killer and left the room in a huff. Soon the shot came and I drifted off to sleep. time to try working on some It was projects which were designed to avoid the possibility of getting pneumonia. The first one was what they called “blow bottles.” These were two quart plastic bottles, one filled with Out of the network of blue-colored water. tubing on the bottles was a valve. The object of the game was to blow hard enough on one of the bottles that it would force all the liquid in one bottle to enter the other. I had no idea how weak I was. The first day I could not even trouble the water- not even a ripple. Several visitors were able to move the water from one bottle to the next without much effort. It was days before I could even raise the water level an inch.

The second project was walking.

Too Young To Die 39

“Walking?” I said with surprise. “Are you kidding? I can hardly sit up.” “You have to,” the doctor said. I pulled myself up to a sitting position with the help of the handrail and flopped my feet to the side of the bed. With two nurses holding me I stood to my feet. All the needles, lines and tubes made mobility difficult. I took two steps and collapsed. Several hours later, and every hour after that I had to try again. I hated it. Look, I nearly flunked High School Phy.Ed. class, I don’t hunt, fish, watch Monday Night Football, don’t wear flannel shirts or drink Miller Lite. It’s no wonder that this hospital version of boot camp didn’t excite me. Around the fourth day I began to run a temperature of 103. I sweated so profusely that my pajamas and sheets were changed every hour for a while. I had gotten a urinary tract infection from the catheter and lost over twenty pounds in just one week. I was back to Square one on energy. One night about midnight, I had to use the bathroom. Sometimes all of life can be focused into one very small and important event; my visiting the bathroom was just such atime. I pushed my call light for a nurse to 40 Too Young To Die

assist me in disconnecting all the wires and tubing. I waited. Fifteen minutes, thirty, sixty, ninety minutes dragged by while I rolled from cheek to cheek in agony. After two hours I got mad. I sat up in bed and pulled the needles from my arms and tried to unplug the hemovac. When I bent over something from my incision popped and I went down on the floor like a rag doll. My first impulse was to reach for my calllight, whichin retrospect was kind of dumb. After fifteen minutes or so on the floor I just decided to crawl toward the bathroom. The next morning the nurse was furious

when she saw that I had been disconnected all night. “You did a dumb thing,” she scolded, “you could have died pulling a stunt like that!” Sarcastically I retorted, “And who would have known it?” “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “I had my light on for more than two hours and noone came. Where were you when I needed you?”

She sheepishly looked at the floor, then up at me, “Oh, late last night we had trouble getting help on the floor.”

Too Young To Die 41

“I see. And if I had died in the night you no doubt would have told my family that you did all that you could, it was just my time to go?” . She began re-connecting all my wires and tubes, but said no more about the incident. Sometimes hospitals can be dangerous places. By now I was feeling well enough that all I wanted was a shave, shampoo, and a real meal. The meal came first! After eight days on intravenous feeding, the nutritionist brought me white bread, Jello and 7-Up. Not exactly steak and eggs but it sure tasted good. After my Shave and shampoo | felt human again. Dr. Bertagnol strolled into my room and was surprised to see me looking so well. “Well, that shave did wonders for you. How do you feel?” “Oh, pretty good,” I sighed, “just get so tired.” “Remember,” he intoned, “you had major surgery less than two weeks ago. I’ve made an appointment tomorrow for you to see the chemotherapist. He will discuss our program of chemical therapy here at the clinic. Radiation is out. Being in your lymph system like it is, the area to be radiated would just be too large.” “Chemotherapy?” I asked. “I’ve seen 42 Too Young To Die

some of the patients on the floor having it. Boy, they're so sick all the time, not to mention they’re all bald.” “Nausea goes away and hair grows back. We are talking about treating a deadly disease here; I turned toward the window and nodded. “The appointment,” he continued, “is set It’s in for nine-thirty tomorrow morning. another building. You can go home tonight but be back tomorrow, OK’°” “When will I see you again?” “I'll be in close contact with the chemotherapist. Mainly though, my work with you is finished. I'll keep in touch.” This man knows me inside and out. Shouldn’t we be friends, or something? Why is it that clinical people remain so aloof and machine-like? I suppose they can't get emotionally involved with their patients. Every time they lost one it would set them back for weeks. “V for Victory” is only funny to one who has lost a part of his humanity. The next day we arrived for our appointment. The small circular glass building was very modern. Since my brother-in-law is a paraplegic, we parked in the handicapped spot. I felt pretty recovered as | wheeled him

Too Young To Die 43

in. He and my in-laws came, but by that time, everyone else from out of town who had come had returned home. This doctor was nota “people person” at all. Iwas not the only one who felt the coolness of his manner. Inside his office he told us what options I had. He was incensed that all of us had come and asked everyone to remain in the

lobby. I simply said that if they left so did his customer. All stayed. “Mr. Hill, Iam pleased to tell you that we have a government funded program in which you might be able to participate. If you do, the government will pay for all of your chemotherapy. It’s a blind study. You will have a drug selected at random - a new drug - which we feel will be effective. You will be given ten straight treatments. “Doctor,” I said, “what about being real sick and losing my hair?” “This is a new drug, as I said. We don’t have a lot of case studies yet but it is fairly likely that you will have definite side-effects with the drug. Cancer is not easily stopped.” “You've read all my charts, right?” He nodded. “Well, how many people with my kind of cancer have you treated?” 44 Too Young To Die

“I’m not sure.” “Has it been at least one hundred?” “Yes,” he said, without hesitation. “And of those hundred, are fifty still living?” He shifted in his chair and folded his arms. “Probably not.”

“Uh, are ten still living?” “I'm not sure. Not completely, without reviewing what little data we have.” I got up and walked across the room trying to choose my words so that he didn’t get upset.

“Is one patient living that you are certain is cured?” I continued before he could answer. “It sounds like I’ve got about a one per-cent chance to live with your drugs.” “Mr. Hill, I’m not certain that anyone is cured. Only time can tell. Your kind of cancer is very fast moving and deadly. If you are to have the government sponsored program, we need to take a small biopsy near your upper clavicle - near your neck,” he said, pointing. We can do it tomorrow morning. Only a local anesthetic is needed.” We talked among ourselves for a few moments. I agreed then to have the biopsy. Too Young To Die 45

We badly needed this financial assistance to meet the ever expanding hospital bill. Early the next day the surgery began.

After several shots to deaden the nerves, we waited for the novocaine to work. A nurse placed a big piece of greenish paper over my eyes. I could hear them talking, just like on We “Scalpel” - slap! “Scissors” - slap! It was all I could do to keep from laughing. All that was missing was the organ music and a blond, busty nurse looking alarmed as a square-jawed doctor said things like, “sponge.” I could hear the cutting and slicing. This was no needle biopsy. Ear plugs would have been a nice addition to the green paper headgear. The doctor began speaking to me now. “We have removed a lymph node from your neck and it is now being rushed to the lab. Inafew moments we will get areport. This is what’s called a frozen section. Tomorrow we will have what we call a “whole section” report. Generally the frozen section report is pretty accurate.” In a few moments a computer-like voice

was heard over the wall-mounted intercom, “The frozen section is negative.” 46 Too Young To Die

“Congratulations, Mr. Hill. That’s very encouraging!” “Well, praise the Lord,” Isaid. “That’s the first good news I’ve had in a long time.” My shoulder and neck were taped up

before they let me sit up. I made the mistake of looking down and saw a pool of my own blood on the operating table. Early the next morning the chemotherapist came into my room. I smiled broadly at him knowing the good news from yesterday. “Mr. Hill, as you know the frozen section was negative. Unfortunately the whole section proved to be positive. This means your cancer is classified as stage three because it has now metastasized above and below your mid-section. You are not now eligible for our government program.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What?” I shouted. You mean when you thought I might not be stage three I

qualified...and now I don’t?” “It’s not quite like that,” he said. “In order for an experiment to be successful the conditions must be right. Apparently these drugs are not as effective with a case as advanced as yours. We feel it would not be in your interest either to experiment with this Too Young To Die 47

program in light of your recent tests. The drug of choice in your situation is ‘actinomycin d.’ I recommend that Monday you begin your first ten treatments.” That was Friday. I did not know how to make a decision. Just one weekend to decide on how to treat stage three cancer. My cancer.

I called later that evening and left a message for the chemotherapist that I would be in Monday for treatment. That was one appointment that I would never keep. Thank God!

48 Too Young To Die

CHAPTER FOUR

Thirteen Cents

Saved My Life There is a fine line between sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong and showing genuine concern for someone’s well-being. Pastor Doug McLachlan was about to risk the former to accomplish the latter. He was about to deliver a message of hope concerning cancer. If such a message backfired, well- we all know what happened to the messenger. Pastor McLachlan picked up his office phone and called next door to the small parsonage. Life for them was pretty hectic these days. Any small church that starts its own private school goes through traumatic changes and usually the pastor and family absorb the greatest shock. The pastor’s wife, Marie, was Too Young To Die 49

hurriedly cleaning the house for the Thursday night bible study held in their basement which, during school hours, doubled for a gymnasium. It’s areal test of character not to explode when, upon returning home from shopping, you find that your entire house smells like sweaty socks. Now that I had not been around for several weeks, things were a bit more hectic than usual. Marie answered the phone, “Hello?” “Hi. Is the mail in yet?” Doug asked. Yes, it’s on the table but I haven’t had time to look at it yet.” “Is the coffee still hot?” “lll make sure it is - see you in a minute or so.”

The pastor didn’t bother to put his jacket on since the parsonage was just next door. All morning he had been wondering about the school situation; should he hire someone to take my place? I had worked with the McLachlans for four years now. I traveled on weekends from college to work with the youth group during my last two years of college. Upon graduation, the church hired me full time to head up the new day school program as principal. “Junk mail,” he said, “always so much 50 Too Young To Die

junk mail.” But on the bottom of the stack of mail was a letter from the Hyland Park Baptist Church in Minneapolis. Doug opened the letter and talked to himself. “Hmm, here’s a letter from Pastor Ballentine. Must be his church newsletter.” For ten more minutes he read silently to himself and then sat motionless, staring at the letter he has just read. When Marie came up from the basement she saw him sitting at the table with a cold cup of coffee. Untouched. “What’s the matter with your coffee?” Her question broke his train of thought. He threw the letter across the table in her direction. “The coffee is fine but read over this letter Ballentine sent us. It concerns Rick.” Marie leaned up against the counter and quickly scanned the material. “Are you thinking that Rick should actually try this?” Doug walked across the kitchen to dump his cold coffee and get a fresh cup. He didn’t look up as he talked, as most of us don’t when we are talking about something we think the other person won’t agree with. “I don’t know. It sounds wild doesn’t it? But Rick is already discouraged about having Too Young To Die 51

to take the chemotherapy and frankly, I think a few treatments of that stuff will finish him off. How did that letter strike you?” Marie sensed his hesitation and carefully responded. “Well, it sounds kind of simplistic to me. Take the vitamin and your cancer goes away. Besides if that’s all it took and it really worked, everyone would be using it and there wouldn’t be any more cancer.” “It does sound a little far out. But the doctors mentioned here in this article,” he said fumbling for names, “Dr. Krebs and Jones, are both M.D.s and besides, I really don’t think Rick has any hope with the way things are now. I’m impressed enough with this information that I’m going to cancel my meeting tonight and drive the three hours to hand deliver this letter to Rick. This could be important to him and if I deliver it in person it will mean more to him. How ‘bout fixing me some lunch and I'll leave as soon as I'm finished at the office?” Marie re-read the article and laid it down by the phone. Another alteration in her schedule. She stood by the counter making his sandwich wondering how in the world a vitamin could cure cancer. She had never even 52 Too Young To Die

heard of Vitamin B17. “I hope we don’t encourage Rick to do the wrong thing,” she said to herself, “what if we encourage him to take this vitamin and he dies?” Her thoughts drifted off as the phone

rang. It was a long drive from New Ulm to Stewartville. Traffic was slow going through Mankato but overallit was a fast trip. Even the multi-colored autumn leaves didn’t attract Doug’s attention. He had over two hours to think about the message he carried. Even though it had been a full two weeks since the surgeryI still walked all stooped over and was in a lot of pain. In Stewartiville, we were enjoying a bowl of homemade soup when we heard a car pull up outside. I went to the window in time to see a Pontiac slowly pulling up, crushing the autumn leaves beneath its tires. “I didn’t know Doug McLachlan was coming here today,” I said, watching him leave the car and head for the front door. “He’s alone too. Wonder what’s up?” Everyone except me went to the door to greet the pastor. By that time I had hobbled Slowly, amid over the easy chair to wait. exchanging pleasantries, they made their way Too Young To Die 53

over to me.

“Howdy,” I said, “I’m surprised to see you! You didn’t come all this way for homemade soup. What’s up?” Pastor McLachlan looked around the room seeming reluctant to speak in front of everyone and everyone was intently listening with curiosity. Pulling an envelope from his pocket, he began. “Well,” he said clearing his throat, “I got this letter from Pastor Ballentine today. He apparently knew about your illness and sent us some literature on a possible cancer treatment. It seems like there are some responsible medical doctors using it and it sure seems like it might be better than chemotherapy. Anyway I decided to drive it over since Monday you're scheduled to start your chemotherapy. I wanted you to have this information as soon as possible. Today is Friday, Rick.” “What is this treatment?” I asked. “It’s basically a vitamin treatment, called Laetrile or Vitamin B17. It’s vitamins taken from apricot pits.” And in perfect unison the whole room shouted, “Apricot pits?” Out of respect for the pastor and his long 54 Too Young To Die

trip and perhaps the serious nature of my condition, no one laughed. But everybody thought a lot of incredible things. “Yeah,” Doug continued, “for some reason this treatment is illegal in the United States so people go to Tijuana, Mexico for the shots.” This time I objected, “Tijuana? Pastor have you ever been to Tijuana? I grew up in Detroit but next to Tijuana it’s Disneyland!” I had visions of leaving the prestigious and modern Mayo Clinic and taking an old dented taxi across the border. After asking some dope smugglers where the clinic was, I imagined an old Mexican snoozing under a huge sombrero with an old rusty syringe at his side. Beside him was a small wagon that was used to grind up apricot pits and stuff them into the syringe. Great. Now Pastor McLachlan realized it sounded better to him than it did to us. “Well look, I know it sounds wacky and there are a lot of questions in my mind too, but John believes it’s a good thing.” “Boy, I don’t know,” I said, “John is always fighting some secret evil society. Remember his involvement with the old Bircher society? Witchhunt clubs.” “I don’t know about all that but why don't Too Young To Die 55

you look at the information and judge for yourself?” I took the materials from him and while everybody watched, I read it silently. There it was in black and white; apricot pits and all. The article also dealt with dietary restrictions and programs of strict nutrition. In short these doctors were health food nuts! I remembered people I had seen in natural food co-ops. These are scary places. I’m standing there in a Brooks Brothers suit, wing-tips, and a button down blue oxford shirt with club tie. I’m also the only one in the place wearing any underwear. Most of the women had more hair under their arms than I did on my head and wore 100% cotton dresses that were 100% wrinkled. Their hair was frizzed out and one lady had what looked like avocado spread evenly on her face. Posters hung about advertising classes inTranscendental Meditation, Yoga, Unity and (I’m not kidding) classes in giving yourself effective enemas. I could see that if I were to fit into this game I would need to learn to put my toes in warm sand, munch mungbean sprouts and say things like, “Oh Wow.” My next trick was to try and sell this idea to the other members of my family. Remember 56 Too Young To Die

the old Bob Newhart telephone gags? I could imagine selling my brother Roger over the phone: “Hello, Rog? Hi! This is Rick...Oh, fine...how ‘bout you? Listen, Rog... Uh, we are taking a look at kind of a new wrinkle on this therapy thing...Yeah, heh, heh, it’s actually sort of vitamins. What? No, you take more than one-a-day...you take vitamin shots that are made from ( long pause) apricot kernels that have been ground up and put in a, uh, syringe.” No response. Silence. “Uh, Rog?” After reading the article I passed it around the room so everyone could read it. Pastor McLachlan spoke up, “Let’s call Pastor Ballentine and see if he knows anyone whose used it.” We called and got some numbers. Using a chain referral system we talked with at least six people who had used Vitamin B17 and survived nicely. Iremembered walking up and down the halls of the chemotherapy ward and once in a while I’d walk in and sit down next to one of the patients who were having chemotherapy. “Hi, my name’s Rick. I live down the hall...how you doin?” What I learned from them was if most of Too Young To Die 57

them had it to do over, they wouldn't. That chemo was nasty stuff and I for one was afraid of it. I decided to call some Mayo Clinic physicians and chat things over. First I called my chemotherapist. All of his clinical professionalism melted in the face of an opposing opinion. We look back at the old caste systems of society and think them to be very primitive. In our culture, the medical profession is not questioned enough. The conversation went something like this: “I’m considering using Laetrile instead of your chemotherapy and I'd like your opinion. I've talked with several patients who have successfully used the stuffand I was wondering what you think?” “Laetrile?

Are you serious? (now with a

wry grin) Some people think if they drink warm salt water they will get better.” “Fine,” I said with some irritation, “but how many people have you treated with my kind of cancer with your chemotherapy that survived?” “That's hard to say.” “Roughly.” “Of course that information is confidential. Didn't we discuss this already?” he asked. “Confidential to whom? We are talking 58 Too Young To Die

about my life here, or my death!” “I'd have to conduct a study.” “Look,” I said with a lot of frustration, “you were here, you've got a rough idea! Have you treated a thousand?” “Probably not.” “Five hundred?” “Perhaps.” “OK. Of the five hundred, are a hundred still living?” “Again, I'd have to check the records.” “Let’s make this simple. Can you give me the names of some people who have used the chemotherapy you want to give me and survived?” “No. It’s confidential.” “Can you think of ONE that survived?” “Mr. Hill, this conversation is over.” “So are your services!” I shouted. I doubt if I’m the high I.Q. type. Mensa has never put me on their mailing list. Chess is not my game. But let’s vote: I talked with at least half a dozen people who went to Mexico and loved it. This clinical genius at the Mayo Clinic won’t give me a single name. Sounds to me like the score is 6 to 0. I called my surgeon the next day. “Hi, Dr. Bertagnol, got a minute? Listen,

Too Young To Die 59

I called my chemotherapist and tried to get some information on Vitamin B17, or Laetrile. You'd think I threw ice water in his face. What gives?” 7 “Do you want to go to Mexico?” he asked. And here is where the battle is won or

lost. When it comes time to actually confront your own personal doctor with an alternative treatment, I’m convinced that most people don’t do it because they are afraid of offending their family doctor. In addition, there is a bonding that occurs between a patient and the doctor. After all, this doctor has seen you naked, both inside and out, and talked of life and death with you. These are very personal things that are not taken lightly. Now I had to confront my own doctor. Would he take it as a Slap in the face? "Yes," I said, "I'd like to try this." “Rick, if you really want to go to Mexico then you should go. Laetrile is a hot topic around here these days so don’t be surprised if you run into more opposition. Just let me hear from you when (or if) you get back.” Whew! That wasn’t so bad. I can’t prove this but I believe that while Dr. Bertagnol didn't really believe that B17 would help me, his lack of resistance indicated that he didn’t 60 Too Young To Die

think all that chemotherapy was going to help much either. Now I had the biggest sale of my life. I had to sell myself. It’s one thing to do research and quite another to make a decision. I wish I were smarter.

Too Young To Die 61

CHAPTER FIVE

One Heavy Decision to Make I spent nearly all day reading materials which caused me to be sure I could never fully understand what B17 was or exactly why it worked for some people and not for others. Allow me to take the reader forward eighteen years now. In my first edition, I had a lot of technical information about Laetrile because it was just being investigated then. Unlike then, today you can go into any health food store and buy books on Vitamin B17 and understand the theory behind it. I will share with the reader some of the information I studied but let me say this; the information you will read in the last four chapters of this book saved my life. Over the years I discovered that vibrant health is a way of life. It involves our total being- physical, mental and spiritual. 62 Too Young To Die

Vitamin B17 didn’t save my life by itself. Itwas and is a non-toxic form of chemotherapy. If I relapsed today I would go back to Mexico. | trust their experience. But the reason I share this with the reader now is that back in 1974 I felt Laetrile was the most important factor in my recovery. Today I do not. It was a very important factor but so were the other elements. Most authors define cancer as a neoplastic disease: a new formation of cells and tissue which are not under the regular control of growth and replacement. The history of using nitrilosides (B17) for cancer goes back to various international pharmacopoeias as early

as 1834. Benefits of B17 in human cancer were first reported in 1845 in French and German medical journals, and in the United States about thirty years ago. The father of this whole popular idea seems to have been a professor, John Beard, of the Department of Embryology at the University of Edinburg. Beard first published his “trophoblastic theory of cancer” in 1902. Init he proposed that there were no discernible differences between the highly malignant cancer cells and certain preembryonic cells that were normal to the early stages of pregnancy. These trophoblast cells, as he called them, spread and multiplied Too Young To Die 63

rapidly in pregnancy and ate their way into the uterus wall preparing a place where the embryo could attach itself for maternal protection and nourishment. The reason, according to Beard, that theses cells do not then take over and kill both the mother and child is that in the eighth week or so of pregnancy, the child’s pancreas produces some enzymes which control the growth of these cancer-type cells. That, according to the theory, is the body’s first line of defense. The second line of defense then is getting enzyme rich foods (live foods) and foods rich in nitrilosides. Beard believed that about 80% of these trophoblast cells were located in the testes and ovaries. The theory goes that when there is a lack of enzyme activity in the body as in a malfunctioning pancreas, then there is nothing to check the growth of these cells. Today there are many fine physicians who have had beautiful results with B17 and other non-toxic modalities. In 1974 I was lecturing around the country on nutrition. I testified before two Senate investigation committees on Laetrile. I have on file some letters from very powerful people in our government asking me questions about my recovery because when someone in their own family gets 64 Too Young To Die

After Ten and one half hours of surgery at the Mayo

Clinic.

One week after surgery.

My Father-in-law and I seated in ‘‘Soldier’s”’ living room after dinner in San Diego, Calif.

Departure day from Tijuana, Mexico with Dr. Lopez.

sick, well, “there are no atheists in fox holes.” When I would go to a city to lecture, there would always be two reporters in the room. One or more from the local media and one from the American Cancer Society. These people followed me around to publish their “company line” in an article which always appeared on the same page. I’m not against another view but these people spent a lot of money following me around telling people that I was misinformed. Guess which charity I never give money to? The American Cancer Society even went so far as to discredit the testimony of a Dr. Dean Burk who testified with me. They said in an article that he was senile. That’s interesting. I had lunch with Dr. Burk after we had testified and I can tell you first hand that he was very sharp. In more recent times, Dr. Harold Manner promoted Laetrile. Dr. Manner, Ph.D., was the chairman of the biology department at Loyola He published his University in Chicago. findings in a paper entitled, “The Non-toxicity of Amygdalin (B17) in Laboratory Mice.” June 13, 1977, The Loyola University Press. Do I believe there is a conspiracy afoot? Are there evil people in high places who want us to be sick because they can make money on Too Young To Die 65

us? I think not. But consider this: There is a medical bias out there. For decades now doctors have known the benefits of a more natural diet on many systemic diseases. Nothing could be more documented than this. But when you are sick, the family doctor reaches for his or her prescription pad and gives us drugs. There is almost no mention of diet, exercise, rest, good water and right thinking. How come? Those things take time, time for the doctor to explain and time for the patient to employ, and time for it to work. We live in the quick fix society. Also, drugs are the grist which drives the medical mill. If the medical community started holding patient orientation classes as Chiropractors do now, and begana series of educational lectures on self-care, medical and pharmaceutical revenues would plummet. Listen, the American Cancer Society estimates that one in four people in our country have active cancer. Most patients

spend more than $30,000 on care before their cure or demise. That’s more income than the Ford Motor Company! We are talking about an

enormous amount of money. I’m not against the medical community. Would you honestly want to live in a world without any antibiotics? Would you want a 66 Too Young To Die

world that could not patch a wounded soldier? Would you want a world that could not correct some malformations from birth? But the tail is wagging the dog. We have taken this whole thing to the extreme. Our drugs seem to create as many diseases as they “cure.” We have a society whacked out on tranquilizers when one hour of exercise and some stiff herb tea would knock them out. But an hour of exercise and herb tea cost almost nothing. Tran-

quilizers cost about $50 for the office call and $25 for the prescription. Big money. Watch this. In 1974 I was actually faced with the prospect of becoming a smuggler. Back then

Vitamin B17 was illegal in the United States. The only way to get it into the country was to smuggle it. Me, a criminal?

I could just see myself leaving a small

shabby tin shack at midnight. Secretly we taped small bundles of tablets to the inside of the hubcaps, wheel wells and under the dash. Then after changing my appearance we sped toward the border in a pink Cadillac. When the scar-faced border guard stepped up I knew I was going to be sick. Sternly he asked, “Have you any drugs or medicine to declare?” Too Young To Die 67

“No,” I lied, thinking these are food tablets not drugs. Then just as we pulled away one of the bundles from the wheel well fell from the car. With guns flashing and clubs flailing, shots rang out with a loud cry, “Halto! Stop, smugglers!” Just ahead squad cars blocked our path. Huge hands reached inside the car, we were frisked, cuffed, and kicked into the back of the black and white. Then a TV camera light blinded us as three microphones were shoved into our faces. A pearl-toothed reporter said with his back to us, “Tonight the shrewd

Tijuana border guards broke up a desperate drug ring. As soon as positive identification is

made this reporter will identify the members of this syndicate. Hold on...this just in...the ring leader seems to be one ‘Richard B. Hill’ reputed to be the ringleader. Some say he bears a striking resemblance to a young ‘Al Capone’ of the Chicago mob. I now have with me, Senor Garcia, the Lieutenant in charge of tonight’s sting operation.

“Senor Garcia, how did you crack this oner

“Well, we are trained to know what questions to ask and how to ask ‘em,” he said as he bit his unlit cigar butt. “They were 68 Too Young To Die

smart,” he smiled showing big yellow teeth, “but we were a leetle beet smarter.” “Thank you Sergeant Garcia-uh, Lieutenant. This is Roger Rogials KCCO TV.” My heart was pounding and my hands were sweating as my day-mare ended. That afternoon I made some more calls and found that there was an underground supply of Laetrile in the States. Black market prices, too. Over a dollar a tablet, and that was in 1974. It was time to fish or cut bait. Only someone facing a terminal disease knows what I felt then. How to make a decision? DoI go? Do I stay? I thought back to a series of books I had read; C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. My favorite character in the series is the little mouse, Reepicheep. All his life he tried to make up for the fact that he was just a tiny mouse. At the drop of a hat he would draw his sword and challenge anyone many times his size to a fight. The goal of this crew aboard The Dawn Treader was to get toa magical kingdom called Narnia run by a messianic lion named Aslan. In book three, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Reepicheep is faced with the opportunity to get to Narnia, a place of healing. But this is what happens:

Too Young To Die 69

“No one doubted that they were seeing beyond the end of the world into Aslan’s country. ‘This,’ said Reepicheep, ‘is where I go on

alone.’ Then he took off his sword (‘I shall need it no more,’ he said) and flung it far away

across the lilied sea.” Soon after that he got into a little boat and went straight up the side of a waterfall into Narnia. Here’s my point: Reepicheep could not get into Narnia with his sword. The sword meant that he had to be right all the time. It defined his value and forced the world to accept him; not for what he was but what he could (or would) do with his sword. I didn’t know if I was right about Mexico. Iwas more afraid than I have ever been. I could not defend my decision, I just had to make it. Sometimes we have to act even when others think we are wrong. When Reepicheep took off his little sword, it was just him. One person

trying to get to a state of Grace. Let me ask you, what’s your sword? I was soon to find out that I needed to leave behind a lot more than the need to be right in order to be well. My “sword” was killing me.

70 Too Young To Die

PART TWO TIJUANA, MEXICO

Too Young To Die 71

CHAPTER ONE

The Mexican Connection The next logical step was to call the clinic in Mexico and talk with one of the doctors. Dr. Contreras was the founder and the one getting all the bad press lately (cover of People magazine). When I finally got through, his niece who was a receptionist at the time, answered our call. I explained my case to her and she apparently sensed our urgency. I proceeded to inquire: “Can Dr. Contreras be reached by phone?” “No, he’s at a friend’s house for dinner tonight.” “Well, [respect his privacy,” I argued, “but I’m twenty- three years old and I haven’t had 72 Too Young To Die

any chemotherapy or radiation. My cancer is stage three already and spreading fast. Could I speak with him for just five minutes tonight?” “Well,” she began, “your case sounds good. OK,take down this number and tell him that I gave it to you, and Mr. Hill, five minutes, OK?” “Bueno!” the voice on the other end said. “Hello. Is Dr. Contreras there?” Very broken English responded, “One moment please...” The phone went down with a “thud” and I heard Spanish conversation in the next room. Soon I heard foot steps and then the now famous physician spoke, “Hello. | This is Dr. Contreras.” “Dr. Contreras, my name is Rick Hill. Your I am sorry to niece gave me this number. bother you on your personal time.” “That’s OK. What can I do for you?” he said in asurprisingly unruffled tone which allowed me to relax a little. “I have stage three embryonal cell carcinoma. I’ve had eight hours of surgery at Mayo but no chemotherapy or radiation. I feel pretty well except for all that surgery. Is it worth a shot to try Laetrile?” “Well, I haven’t seen your records but we have treated others like you and with some success. Can you travel?” Too Young To Die 73

nYeSs “Could you be an outpatient, or would you require hospitalization?” “I am at home now so I don’t think I need to be in the hospital.” “When can you come and can you bring your records with you?” “Tomorrow, and I'll get my records.” “OK, Richard, tomorrow I'll make an appointment to see you Thursday morning. You get checked in Wednesday and they will run some tests on you. After we review your records and our tests we will decide if Laetrile is required. We do not treat all patients who come, understand?” “Yes, I understand. Ill see you Thursday then and thank you for coming to the phone!” I phoned Doug McLachlan in New Ulm and told him of my decision. “Hey, Rick, that’s great! I phoned the deacon board and a group of us would like to drive down and see you tonight. We'd like to pray for you and anoint you with oil and ask God for a healing for you.” “Sure.” That passage in James 5 had

always confused me.Were those things really for us today? vote for today! 74 Too Young To Die

Under these circumstances,

“We can’t get there till about nine tonight. Will you still be up?” “Tl wait up no matter how late it gets.” Things were happening so fast. Everyone was now making a special effort for things to change. After what seemed like a week the doorbell rang. Behind Pastor McLachlan were the deacons; Mel Meschke, Al Haire, Bill Moede and Ray Wickham. Boy, it was good to see them. Even if they did tend to make the deacons meetings a tug-of-war, they were people of deep compassion and concern. Pastor McLachlan addressed us first. “I’ve asked Rick if we could come tonight and pray with and for him. Now that we know heis going to Mexico, we have new direction for our prayers. I’d like to read the passage in the book of James just before we pray.” He took a worn leather New Testament from his pocket and thumbed to the passage and read out loud,

“Is there any sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the church and let them pray over him anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; And the prayer offaith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. "(James 5:14-15 KJV)

After reading the text, he continued, “Let's Too Young To Die 75

have a season of silent prayer. The text indicates that Rick needs to confess any personal sin in his life (boy, did I pray!) and we should be certain that we are in a condition to intercede for him. Following this time of silent prayer I suggest we anoint him with oil, lay hands on him and each of us can pray specifically for him. Let’s all kneel down by the couch and begin.” We all kneeled and prayed. I searched my heart for areas of blindness and unforgiveness. At this point I did not realize how one can be a believer but not a fully functioning person. Then the pastor spoke again, “I have the olive oil here and we believe that this is a symbol of the Holy Spirit and represents our faith in God’s power to heal.” He placed his finger on the top of the small brown bottle and turned the bottle upside down, then back up. He touched his finger to my forehead, then placed his hand on top of my head. As I remained kneeling, the rest of the deacons stood placing their hands on my head also. One by one they prayed out loud. Each prayer was emotion filled. Ibegan to shake all over from kneeling so long at such a late hour. I was still very weak from the surgery. 76 Too Young To Die

After we all prayed I got into the recliner chair and we began to sing an old familiar hymn, “To God Be the Glory.” To God be the glory, great things he hath done So loved he the world that he gave us His son, Who yielded his life an atonement for sin And opened the lifegate that all may go in. Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! Let the Earth hear His voice Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! Let the people rejoice. Oh, come to the Father through Jesus His son And give Him the glory, great things he has done!

When we got to the chorus my eyes filled with tears and I found myself weeping uncontrollably. Several of the men’s voices cracked with emotion as they finished singing. Pastor wiped tears from his eyes and spoke again, “We called several people before we left to raise some money for your trip. We have several checks and pledges. Here, Rick.” He handed me an envelope containing over $2,000. These were not affluent people. These were people who were practicing Biblical love. How sad it must be for those entering the “valley of death” alone. I needed help on the trip and my former father-in-law, Les Bardwell volunteered to go

Too Young To Die 77

with me. More than once he saved my life. I was still, even after the gift of money, and prayers, vacillating between wanting to go and wanting to hide. The very next day we took flight #498 to San Diego from Rochester, Minnesota. I put back my seat and closed my eyes, but not to sleep- just to escape and forget that this was really happening. One thing was clear; I had just turned my back on the most prestigious medical institution on earth.

78 Too Young To Die

CHAPTER TWO

Love is Spelled “Soldier” We arrived in San Diego about 6:00 PM and called the Ramada Inn which was near the airport. The rooms were like all other hotel rooms; nondescript. We got some dinner and then tried watching some TV to pass the time. Les lay there for a while then sat up in bed leaning on one elbow, “Ya know, I’ve been thinking. That money you were given is not going to go very far with

two of us. I wonder if there isn’t a church near here who might have someone who's out of town and we could rent their apartment cheap or something.” Les made a few calls and finally got a minister who gave us a name and number, Too Young To Die 79

“Ask for Soldier,” the minister said. “Soldier?” I thought. What kind of name is that?” Well, Soldier turned out to be an elderly widow who had more drive and moxie than anyone half her age. I want the reader to know that all that follows comes under the heading of answered prayer or curious blind luck...and I’ve never been very lucky. Soldier, it turned out, was a health food nut! She was a real character- even on the phone. Soldier answered our call and after some minimal chatter she said, “Well, the first thing you boys will need is transportation. I know right where the clinic is so I'll pick you up at 8 AM sharp. I’m always on time- make sure you are! I'll be driving a beige Dodge Duster. It’s not luxurious but it'll do. Any questions?” We stood there with our mouths gaping open, saying nothing. I knew one thing- we’d be on time tomorrow...or else! At 7:45 AM a Duster pulled up in front of the hotel lobby and Soldier marched into the hotel. She walked up to us with a crisp gait and said holding out her hand, “ “You must be Rick and Lester.” “Yes Ma’am!” we chirped loudly in unison. ‘Tm Soldier. You should get your bags because we won't be back. I took the liberty of 80 Too Young To Die

finding you a better place to stay- that is unless you object?” she said with perfect eye contact.

“No, uh...whatever you say, uh, Soldier.” While Les shagged the luggage, Soldier asked me about my case. It was obvious to me that she had done this before. The trip to Tijuana was filled with suspense. Les and Soldier hit if off beautifully because her husband had been a career man in the Navy and Les had been Navy during the war with Japan in the islands. They swapped war stories when we went by the “moth ball” fleet outside San Diego. In the distance I could see the Mexican border complete with guards. It occurred to me that it was easier getting into Mexico than getting out. Basically, a guard just waved at everyone going in. The scenery

between the border and the clinic is a heart breaker. Few slums in the States match the hovels we saw. We pulled into the clinic parking lot which was in a very nice part of town, right near the ocean across the street from the bull ring. The grounds were well manicured and while this was no Mayo Clinic, the buildings were nice. The inside was furnished with a modern flair; lots of stainless steel and glass, with an orange Too Young To Die 81

color scheme for the wall coverings and carpet. On one wall was a large rendering of “The Good Samaritan.” I approached the receptionist whose broad, bright smile highlighted her olive skin and dark eyes. “Hi,” I began, “My name is Rick Hill. I’m supposed to have some tests today.” She scanned her record book and said, “Oh yes, please take a number and a nurse will call for you.” At least at the Mayo Clinic they call for you by name. I sat down and began answering questions. I was soon to become known as “number thirdteen” or “Reechird Heel.” The Centro Medico Del Mar had a culture of it’s own. Even though we were in Mexico, none of the patients were Mexican- most were

Mid-Westerners it seemed. When I questioned the obvious lack of locals as patients, I was told that relatively few Mexicans have cancer. No cancer in the world can survive their hot sauce. What we call chemotherapy, they call salsa! I'll never forget what I called, “lobby lore.” The clinic’s waiting room was like a crash course in death and dying. I was just twenty three years old then and everyday we noticed 82 Too Young To Die

that someone didn’t return the next day. Perhaps they were through treatment but we, those of us condemned to die by other institutions, thought the worst. Most came to this clinic only after they had surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Most had been told to put their things in order that the show was nearly over. Whenever I tell anyone that I went to Mexico they often say, “Oh, yeah? Like Steve McQueen

or Chad Green?”

These are

they whose life was so damaged by disease and conventional therapy that all the Kings horses and all the King’s men, couldn't put Humpty together again. In nearly every case that I saw, when someone got down there before they had chemo or radiation, before their immune systems were shot, and before their life force had been so diminished, these, like me, lived to tell about it. When I arrived I had an immune system left to build on. I had energy to fight. I only needed direction. Friendships were almost instantly formed in the lobby. While I have never been in a war situation, the characteristics of human interaction paralleled that of a war culture. Our being together wasn’t like being in a crowded elevator where all stare blankly at the floor or changing numbers. No, we were together to Too Young To Die 83

fight for a common cause- life itself! We were a team. We had defied public opinion, the medical establishment, turned our backs on medical insurance payments, and traveled into a secret world that even our loved ones, in most cases, begged us not to enter. We hada lot at stake. We were gambling all that we had. And like war- if we lost, we all would die. Soldier waited patiently in the lobby. She, of course had become best friends with a dozen people during my tests. Ihada scheduled visit with Dr. Lopez the next day at 10 AM. Soldier loaded us into her car and we departed for...who cared? I was so exhausted by then. My abdominal scar was over a foot long and if I were up more than about six hours it would begin to burn. IfI took pain pills it helped but then I was back in the 60s just sort of grinning at anything that moved and saying things like, “Oh, wow man, far out!” Just didn’t go well with suspenders. It was then that I started what was to become my first deep mental affirmation. There in the back of that Duster I would close my eyes and block out all else. While the car bounced along that nearly unpaved road, I began to see myself as well, healthy, strong and happy. When thoughts of death would enter my mind, I learned to go to 84 Too Young To Die

that place of quiet rest. That place from which the daily challenges of life remain hidden. That place so near the heart of God. Dentedup taxis which had been repainted as many times as the seats in Tiger Stadium, swerved in and out of traffic. Soldier pointed to a sticker on her windshield and said, “See this sticker? This means I have insurance to drive in Mexico. Without this, some of the taxis ram your car to collect insurance money.” Great.

After some time I was awakened by a slam of the car door. Les and Soldier had gotten out to do some shopping at a health food store. This was one of San Diego’s finest co-ops. In those days, people from the community would take turns working in this store to cut down on overhead and therefore keep the prices down. Food was in big wooden barrels. She bought apricot kernels, whole wheat bread, sea salt, dried and fresh fruit, bottled juices and some fresh juices like carrot and wheat grass. She bought green squishy things that she actually intended for us to eat. Soldier pulled up in front of her own house and announced, “We're home!” “Home?” we asked. “Are we staying with you?”

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“No, but the lady that lives upstairs is visiting her son out of state for two weeks and you can stay there. Make sure you keep the place clean and leave her something for utilities. Pay for all your own calls. And, since I live so close, I will fix one meal a day for you- with your food.” Thank God! Id never have to eat that stuff she bought. Then I found out that she was shopping for us and that Les had paid her for that organic gruel. No wonder philosophers have been asking since the beginning of time, “Is there a God?” Not only was I sick, but I’d never see another Big Mac again as long as I...as long as I... I got her point. She fixed toasted avocado and tomato sandwiches for our first banquet. I closed my eyes and forced half of a sandwich down. When Soldier got up to pour us another schooner of carrot juice, I leaned over to Les and whispered,

“Hey, you gotta eat this other half sandwich or I’m gonna see the first half real soon.” While her back was turned he swallowed my half in two gulps. That was the first time Les saved my life. The next time wouldn’t be as easy. 86 Too Young To Die

CHAPTER THREE

Living Among the Dying Now it's October 10, 1974. Today is the day that I'm to be examined by the doctors. Today they would call me by name instead of my number. Instead of more tests, I would see a doctor. “Meester Reechird Heel, plese,” the nurse announced. J jumped up and headed for the door leading to the examination room. There was the waist-high vinyl covered table with paper for a pillow and stirrups for one’s legs. “Please remove your shirt; the doctor will be in shortly,” she said. Dr. Lopez, not Dr. Contreras , entered the room, introduced himself and began routine tests. We chatted about my case and he asked Too Young To Die 87

me to lie on the examination table. When he saw the size of my scar his eyes widened and he shook his head. “This is a lot of surgery. Your body is rejecting some of the stitches. Already some are festering.” “Well, what should I do about that?” I asked. “Not much. We can remove stitches ifand when they surface. Other than that though, how do you feel?” “Of course I’m still in a lot of pain from the surgery and I get tired so fast. By noon I’ve had it.”

“Isee. Well, we are running your tests and will have the results back soon. We'll know more then.” I dressed and left the examination room and was headed for the lobby when I spotted Dr. Contreras walking down the hall. I had been assigned Dr. Lopez because Dr. Contreras was to bein Italy for a couple of weeks presenting papers.

“Dr. Contreras!” I shouted after him, and ran. He waited for me at the end of the hall. “T’m Rick Hill, the one who interrupted you the other night at your dinner party.” “Yes, Rick, so nice to see you!” he said 88 Too Young To Die

warmly. “Doctor, could we talk just a minute?” “Yes,” he said pointing to his office. I followed closely behind into a modest and somewhat cluttered office. We chatted a minute or so about my trip and then nervously I asked him the big question. “Do you think I can be helped?” He paused a moment, narrowed his eyes and gave the explanation he must have given a thousand times to those condemned to die. “Rick, your case is new to us. It will take time for us to understand all that has happened to you. But you are young and strong and show a real desire to recover, right?” “Right?” I wondered. What kind of dumb question is that? No, I traveled from Minnesota to Tijuana because I want to see a bull Of course I want to fight and eat Tacos! recover. “Right,” I said, a tad defensively, “doesn't everyone who comes here want to live?” “Well, our experience is that the human body is capable of amazing healing ifitis given Our challenge a chance to rebuild itself. ing seems to be finding the people who are will e to do the things necessary to get well. Som will not even change their diet or quit smoking.

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Do these people really want to get better’? We have a chapel on campus here and I suggest you attend the sessions. We cover the mental and spiritual aspects of healing. Laetrile is only one part of our process. Well, I will be in Italy a couple of weeks and then I'll plan to see you when I return. We are happy you have come and have every reason to expect your recovery with us. Take care.” We stood and I walked, stooped over, from his office back to the lobby to a sight I will never forget. Understand that most who come here have been utterly given up by conventional medicine. These are they who have no other options. An Amish family arrived in a Chevy van after driving non-stop from Pennsylvania, without an appointment. Their boy was dying with cancer. The entire family of six came. What a horrible thing it would be to face the door of death alone, without the support of

one’s family.

Even though we must enter

alone, pity the one who has so alienated himself

from others that the entire journey is a solo path. The family were all dressed in black traditional garb. First the bearded men entered, then the women. Last came the father with

what appeared to be a nineteen year old boy 90 Too Young To Die

cradled in his arms. One of the boy’s legs was at least three times its normal size. He was very pale and listless. Moments later Dr. Lopez came into the lobby and approached the boy who was lying on one of the bright orange couches. He talked in hushed tones to the father and briefly examined the boy right there in the lobby. After several minutes Dr. Lopez took the father aside and all I could see from where I sat was the doctor's the doctor’s head shaking from side to side. He put his hand on the father’s shoulder, said one thing more and then left the lobby. The Amish man lifted his huge chapped hands to his face and began weeping out loud. It was hard to watch the family’s reaction to his and their grief. He gently bent over his boy, spoke softly to him, and picked him up. Now with great purpose and dignity he walked forcefully from the clinic. The entire family followed, in procession, to the van. All of them were crying and yet there was a strength in their faces which said, “We have done all we could do for the one we love. Now it is between our boy and his God.” Theirs was strength and beauty personified. A typical day for us was up around 7AM. Les liked getting up at five; a real morning Too Young To Die 91

person. I think people who say they like to get up early would lie about anything. I can’t even get a pulse before ten. The early morning weather in October in San Diego is delightful. The air is cool and crisp and you couldn't wait for the afternoon sun to bring a warm haze to the day. The forty minute trip to the clinic was usually the same. Les had borrowed an old beater car from a friend of his in San Clemente. We would park our newly insured car behind the clinic and walk quickly to the lobby where I took my plastic numbered card. Since we were early I usually got in the top twenty and oddly enough, often my number was thirteen. Unlucky, huh? Not this time. Thank God. There were about six treatment rooms for getting the daily shots. Usually there were two chairs with an arm rest attached; like in school. Soon a young nurse would enter the room, smile, get a three gram vial of Amygdalin (synthetic B17),

attach

a disposable

needle

and put it into the syringe. She then put a stretchy rubber band around my upper arm to get my bruised veins to stand out. After a swab or two of alcohol she gave me an intravenous shot in the bend of my arm. The Laetrile itself was a clear liquid. There was never the slightest toxic response al92 Too Young To Die

though for some odd reason, I usually felt a cold spot on my right leg. The only thing I felt immediately was a lessening of my surgical pain. Evidently, there is a natural pain killer in the Laetrile. The injections made me feel better in just a few days. After the B17 injection, I went to another room where enzymes were given. These were given anally for retention. Multiply the above episode by eighteen and you have the entire treatment. It was never more complicated than that. On Saturdays, we got a double dose; six grams in one shot. Kind of makes all the F.D.A. hassle over the years seem pretty stupid doesn’t it? All of this represents the dark side of a market economy. Sometimes we humans are driven by things other than the good of our fellow man. On my second blood test near the end of the second week, the doctor questioned me. “Your red blood cell count is not good. We are at a loss to know why. Is there anything you are taking which you might have left out of your admissions questionnaire?” I thought for a moment and said, “Well, yeah, I’m taking an antibiotic for these bad stitches and an occasional pain pill.” “How long have you been taking the anToo Young To Die 93

tibiotic?” “About three weeks, why?” “Stop taking them for three days and let us do a post check and see if there is some improvement.” You cannot believe how my energy level picked up in the next two days! I no longer found myself looking for a nap at ten in the morning.

Early one Sunday morning I woke and found blood running down my chest. I panicked and called for Les. He came running into my bedroom and saw the blood from one of the stitches that had ruptured. Here was the gross looking thread sticking out of my chest! Like a couple of week-end warriors, Les proceeded to fix the problem. He found a pair of tweezers and scissors. After Iwashed the area with soap and warm water, he pulled the string out as far as he could and snipped it with scissors. Following that he poured merthiolate all over me. Hurt? I thought I would pass out. Then he found some kind of powder that’s supposed to stop bleeding and dumped that all over. “OK, Rick. Good as new. Let’s go to church. “Church?” I cried. “You just performed 94 Too Young To Die

major surgery on me and you expect me to go

to church now?” “Oh, come on. I'll take this astringent powder and if it starts bleeding all over your shirt again, I'll just blast it with this!” It worked. In fact, over the next two weeks we removed at least three stitches that way. We stuck to the diet listed in the back of this book while in Tijuana and San Diego. Not all of the patients at the clinic did. It always amazed me to see someone near the clinic smoking a big cigar and eating fried pork and then I’d see them take a number the next morning.

By now things were going pretty well, until the next day. To this day, eighteen years later, Icannot explain what happened to mein logical terms. After treatment one day we stopped at Dennys for lunch. Now, you might wonder how I stayed on my diet at Dennys. Like this: the first day we went in I asked if I could meet the cook who was on at lunch. Reluctantly a

guy named Tim came out from the back with

an apron that looked like he’d had it on for several weeks. “Ineed your help Tim,” Isaid. “I'll be here for three weeks and wonder if you could fix Too Young To Die 95

some special stuff for me?” “Like what?” he asked. I explained the diet. So he fixed lots of salads, broiled the chicken or fish, didn’t butter the toast and most everything wasn’t salted. Today like every other day, we walked in, waved at Tim, ordered lunch and chatted as we ate. It was hotter than normal that day and the radio said there was a “Santa Ana” wind due in town that day, whatever that was. When we were done, we stood and walked towards the door. The whole room started spinning. I grabbed Les by the arm. “Boy, do you look pale. You OK, Rick?” he asked. I took a few more steps and the lights began to dim. It was like being in a bad nightmare where you can hardly hear or see anything and everything is in slow motion. Les grabbed me and helped me to the car. When we arrived at the house, I felt completely

detached from my body. He carried me to the bed. I could see and hear him but could not respond. I touched my incision- no pain at all. This was weird. “Rick, see ifyou can sleep a while. It’s hot

and terribly dry here and you just have no reserve to deal with that. Close your eyes and 96 Too Young To Die

sleep if you can.” Having said that ,he knelt down by the bed and began to pray for me. Four hours later I woke and called for Les. “I feel better now,” Isaid. “You know what I think went wrong? The humidity is so low with that hot wind that came up, Ijust reacted to it while we were driving home with the windows down. Even when I was a kid I couldn’t tolerate forced air heating in the winter. In fact, while I slept, Idreamed about a portable humidifier. I think we should go get one.” We decided to walk about three blocks to a department store and see if we could find a cheapie. On the way, one of the stores was having a “used a bit” sale- mostly junk. We walked by the door and glanced in. There on a table among all the junk was the exact portable humidifier I saw in my sleep! Deja Vu? I grabbed Les’ arm. “Hey, come here! Look at this. This is the same humidifier I saw in my dream.” I picked it up and looked at the price tag: It was $2.00! “Two bucks!” I shouted. “Let’s take it!” All the way home I thought, “probably won’t work...things like this only happen in pulp-paper novels.” But when we got home it Too Young To Die 97

was only moments before a steady stream of cool moist air was streaming from this little machine.

Well reader, what do you say? Premonition? E.S.P.? Astrotravel? Coincidence? Miracle? Still it happened and I cannot pretend it didn’t. I think the One who spoke the worlds into existence and teaches redemption in a thousand different ways, can arrange a humidifier. The lady in whose apartment we were staying returned so we moved into the Vally-Hi

motel in San Ysidro. They offered and still do to this day a special diet and transportation to the clinics. The final day of treatment came. We said good-bye to everyone. It was like the last day of camp. Everyone promised to write and, like camp, no one did, except for the Ottesons. When Agnes arrived she was wearing a wig from the chemotherapy hair loss and

walked with acane. By the end of our stay she walked without pain and looked much better. Now, eighteen years later, I still get a holiday card from her. She’s still on her diet! We returned to Rochester, Minnesota on Halloween, 1974. Soon after we got home I called Dr. Bertagnol and scheduled and appointment. “Rick!” he said astonished. “You look 98 Too Young To Die

great! A month ago! was sceptical about your future, but look at you!” I had put on about ten pounds, gotten some of that San Diego sun and walked nearly

straight.

“Doc,” I said hesitantly, “if I send you some literature on B17 would you read it?” “Yes, I will. I’m not convinced that what you did in Mexico is what helped you but you are obviously doing much better- keep at it!” Every year after that for about six years or so the Mayo Clinic would send me a follow-up Their formal statement requestionnaire. garding me is that I had a “natural remission.” I agree, but we don’t agree on the definition of the word, “natural.” They would define natural as my cancer just went away all by itself without a logical cause. I would define natural as the organic process I used to rebuild my immune system. That process is how I want to close this book. The path to vibrant health is basically a four part process. It can be learned. Itis simple but not easy. Come a little closer now and learn what I learned “that ye may live.”

Too Young To Die 99

PART THREE

Boca Raton, Florida

100 Too Young To Die

CHAPTER ONE

Detoxification Its been seventeen years since a young Mayo Clinic doctor looked at me and said, “You have cancer.” The whole process of healing looks different to me today than it did then. My

views have changed over the years. Time has a way of making the complex simple again. In 1975 I guess I read over a hundred books on nutrition to try and get a handle on the whole concept. The more I read the more confused I became until some basic principles emerged that made sense to me and were working for me. Rebuilding the immune system is job #1 for anyone suffering from a systemic disease like cancer. Basic to this process is to rid the body of toxins. Experts tell us that many of Too Young To Die 101

these toxins come from the food we eat, the air we breath, the water we drink, and the chemicals we use in our daily routines of personal hygiene. Many of these chemicals and pollutants can have an accumulative effect. They are stored in our bodies and the poisonous effect grows year by year. Perhaps the most difficult part of the detoxification process is changing one’s diet. For most people food is a sacred topic and a central theme to their lives. Look around. Most people are overweight. Let’s face it; it is harder for some to change their diet than it is for others. I have two children, Heather, 16

and Ricky, 12. When Heather was a little girl about seven or eight she was a little overweight. She thought about food all the time. When I'd fix her breakfast in the morning she would sit at the table before I served it watching every move I made in the kitchen. Id set her plate or bowl in front of her and her eyes would sparkle. While she ate she would comment on how good it tasted. Bless her chubby little heart, before leaving the breakfast table, she would ask me what I would be fixing for lunch! Ricky, on the other hand would need to be bribed with large bundles of cash just to get him near the table. Once at the table, he 102 Too Young To Die

designed the most elaborate games with food. No interest. When Heather turned about twelve years old, her body chemistry changed. She lost all that baby fat, and started developing her adult shape. She also lost nearly all interest in food. This interest was transferred to boys instead. In retrospect, I liked her interest in food. So, I’m trying to be sympathetic with some of you who will find a real battle ground here. While it may be easier for some, it is difficult for everyone to change dietary habits. The first thing I did when I returned from Mexico was to go through my food cupboards at home and get rid of everything I could no longer eat; things with preservatives, white flour, white sugar, food colorings and most canned goods. This left me with a box of raisins and a bag of popcorn. Off I went to the grocery store. Here’s where the rubber meets the road. Never go shopping when you are hungry, and always shop the perimeter of the store. Most of the fresh foods are not down the aisles but are where the fresh food suppliers can

move quickly in and out of the store on a daily

basis. The canned food, with preservatives, can sit on a shelf for months with only an

Too Young To Die 103

occasional dusting. Today most grocery chains carry what we called “health foods” years ago. It is easier today than it was then to make better selections. The truth is that if you buy junk and bring it home you will eat it! I have never thrown out stale potato chips.

Never.

The real problem here is that food is consumable. If we had the battle of shopping only once, it would be easy. Sometimes we can be stone-ground, card carrying health food nuts one week, and be spotted the next week in a 7-11 buying a Snickers and Coke. We are faced with being courageous about food many times every single day. It takes a real focus, and anyone who claims they never cheat or thatit’s easy to diet, probably has several wrist watches they try to sell in bus stations. When Iwas about six years old, my brother Sam...Sam Hill, ifyou can believe that, showed me a trick with a magnifying glass I got ina Cracker Jax box. We went outside and he held the glass about six inches from a sheet of paper until a narrow beam of light appeared. After a while it started to smoke and finally the paper burned. What a great trick! What power! I could start fires with my new toy! Next, he found an ant hill... Now I was lethal!

Then I tried it. At that age, with that level 104 Too Young To Die

of hand/eye coordination, I could not hold the glass steady or level enough to narrow the beam of light. I ran into the house and yelled at my mom, “There is something wrong with the sun!” We do that everyday of our lives. The sun is the most powerful source of energy in our At over ninety-three million solar system. miles away, it can run engines, cause growth in plants, melt snow and reflect all the beauty on the spinning green ball we call home. But as J found out, if that energy is not focused, it won't do much at all. The sad part of any human life is when one believes that they cannot be successful at whatever it is they set out to accomplish. It is not a matter of talent. It is a matter of focus. I changed my diet because I made it a central focus for at least five years. For five years my idea of cheating was a toasted, natural peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole wheat- and then only on Sunday nights. I went to the health food store and bought several meatless cookbooks and experimented with different recipes. My favorite sandwich of all time is this: take one slice of seven grain bread and lay it open face on a toaster oven shelf. Spread a layer of fresh avocado (now I actually like it). Place vine Too Young To Die 105

ripened tomatoes next, a layer of sprouts and top it off with generous slices of jack cheese without coloring if you can find it. Place this in the toaster oven until the cheese melts evenly. That’s a sandwich! Having been born in Texas, I also make a lot of cornbread and beans. Its fast and easy with the new mixes available and there are no additives. I usually have a pot of beans or peas on the stove anda cake of cornbread around. Stir-fry is a weekly routine and I grill fish when I entertain. Want to know what I eat for dinner at least three times a week? Popcorn. Air-popped popcorn! And when I’m alone I’lljust enjoy a bowl of corn or peas. Pretty boring but I enjoy it. Have I always stayed on my diet for the last seventeen years? No. Unfortunately after my divorce in 1981, I was out of control for about three years. No focus! It was are-active life, not a pro-active one. While I didn’t eat any pork steaks, I certainly didn’t stay on my program. I ate what a friend of mine, Ken Gordon, calls depression food. So, why didn’t I get sick again? Outside of the grace of God, there were two things I did keep doing right that acted as a backup. Fasting and taking good food supplements. Let me cover those two things now. 106 Too Young To Die

A few months after returning to Minnesota I bought a little book called, One Answer to Cancer by Dr. William Kelly. In his book he talked about the need for periodic fasts and...I’m not kidding here...doing enemas or colonics. For the first five years of my detox program I fasted two days out of every week. On Monday I would eat all raw foods and take some herbal digestive aids before going to bed. Then for the next two days I would drink pure water laced with lemon, or ifit were in Season, I would eat watermelon. It’s a slick way to cheat. You feel full enough to get to sleep at night and the sugar in watermelons keeps the shakes away. After a couple days of this I would go to a clinic in the area and have a colonic. Now if you don’t know what this is, picture yourself water-skiing and then just sit down real fast! It's like a Turbo Charged Otherwise, you can get an incline Enema. board and a hot water bottle with syringe and

do the deed yourself. I hired this project done

in the beginning because the high colonics are more effective. I know that in an industrialized society like ours its neater and more sophisticated to take a couple of designer drugs washed down with a spot of Ziphandel, but it won’t work as well.

Too Young To Die 107

Fasting remains a very important part of my program and, during those “crazy” years, probably saved my life again. I know how hungry you can get while fasting. One time I was on the second day of my fast when I pulled up to a traffic light. I had just passed a McDonalds and was thinking something like, “my kingdom for a fishwich,” when I noticed Heather had left a pack of gum in the car. A whole pack. I missed chewing. I took a stick, chewed it...and swallowed it. Then another, and another, until I had eaten the whole pack of gum. Now, there is something I didn’t know about swallowing gum, which a local doctor explained to me in great detail as I was lying face down on his examining table. Never again.

Have you ever been that hungry? If so, you have a friend. I understand that fasting can be difficult. Today, I try and fast monthly. But remember for the first five years, as I was rebuilding at the cell level, I fasted every week for two days. The second thing I continued to do was take good vitamins. While I was still in Mexico, everyone in the lobby was talking about the different kinds of vitamins they were taking. One brand in particular interested me, not just because 108 Too Young To Die

everyone in Mexico was recommending it, but

because that company had a wide range of natural products. The Shaklee Corporation not only made natural vitamins, but they also had natural toothpaste, shampoo, and even organic laundry and cleaning products. I could not only protect myself, but with one company, I could protect the environment as well. When I got back to Minnesota I found a distributor and for the next year “Shakleeized” my home. Every morning I made a smoothie

with fresh fruit and some instant soy protein. I took some of their multivitamin, Vita Lea®, some alfalfa for my allergies, and a bunch of whatever else fell out of the jars. I don’t count In my mind, I’m not them, I weigh them. taking pills but rather eating concentrated food tablets. In ten minutes every morning | get more solid nutrition than I used to getina week. Single adults really need this. Usually we eat dinner at the sink if we are alone. We seldom make a real dinner and sit down. Or we go out and who knows what goes on behind the wall even though we've made good selections? After I had used the Shaklee products for a year on a retail basis, I got invited to attend a Shaklee lecture. I really didn’t want to go Too Young To Die 109

since I figured I knew more about nutrition than the speaker did, and I was already familiar with the products. But Mary Lou explained that Gary Burke was going to talk about making a business with the Shaklee products. No way.

I could see me going door-to-door cleaning windows with Basic H®. Not my style. But I attended the meeting even though I was afraid we’d all have to join hands and hum “Koom-By-Ah” in E flat. Or make trivets or ashtrays or something. Ishowed up, butI was the only one who showed up. I hate that. After listening to his pitch I went home and life went on. At the time I was the administrator of a Christian day school. The principal resigned and there was a general shake-up in the church. Pretty normal for Baptist churches. I resigned and decided to move to Grand Rapids, Michigan and finish graduate school. Suddenly I needed income. That afternoon Mary Lou called me back and said that Gary was returning for another smash engagement and asked if I’d like to attend. Things had changed for me. Shaklee looked better and better. Well, forty-one months later we were pinned the youngest Master 110 Too Young To Die

Coordinators in Shaklee’s history and at age 25 we had 25 sales leaders on our recap. It was a fast track and lots of fun. In my opinion we saved hundreds of lives by offering people an alternative way to live. After my divorce, I felt like I could no

longer offer people an alternative. I didn’t feel like a Shaklee person any longer- and I wasn’t acting like one. For the next eight years I walked away from my business and did nothing. My people were justifiably disappointed in me. Surprisingly though my business survived my neglect and in 1990, my organization still consumed a million dollars of natural products. Today I’m back at work, sponsoring, selling, and giving national lectures on health and sales. I feel like my old self again. Grace can best be defined as “unmerited favor.” Today I’m more patient than I was then because people like Gary Burke and Ken Gordon remained my friends, unconditionally. Their attitude was not based on what I was doing but on who! was. Isn’t that why the sun rises and sets each day? It’s a chance to start every day as though there were no past. A clean slate every single day. Listen, I don't care how many times you've tried to clean up Too Young To Die 111

your act. The very best day to startis right now because it’s the only day you really have. Tomorrow is locked away in a place we cannot go and yesterday is only amemory that usually should not be retrieved. The third element of my program I learned from Dr. Dave Blossom of Vassar, Michigan. Dr. Blossom and his wife, Joy, are charismatic people who have helped thousands to better health through Chiropractic care. Most people only go to a Chiropractor if they are in pain, but Dr. Blossom had a different explanation. He asked me one day, “Have you ever been in a house when the breaker tripped and you were in the dark?” “Sure,” I said. “Well, our bodies are like that. Our flow of energy can be interrupted by what’s called a ‘subluxation’ or an interruption in the flow of electrical current in the body. All we do is restore that flow and then it flows to body organs just like your household current flows again to an appliance once the current has been restored.” So, I began a series of regular “tune-ups” even though I was not in pain. The last feature of my program involves the role our minds play in our healing. I had no idea of all that this involved. 112 Too Young To Die

CHAPTER

TWO

Affirmations Remember when I was in San Diego and I'd lie back in bed and begin to visualize my healing? That was the beginning of a slowly evolving process that I use today not only to maintain health but increase business success. I began to think about Dr. Contreras’ questions regarding my own attitude about was I someone who really wanted to be well? Was I? I remember a statement I heard once, “you will never nurture a life you have condemned.” Interesting... Did you ever have a car you didn’t like? My first car was a 1957 Ford. My brother Sam gave it tome. I soon found out why. After I had owned the car for six months, Larry Luba and I parked it one day on a deserted street in Roseville, Michigan. We removed the radio and license plates and walked home. [| never saw the car again. Iresented washing it, filling Too Young To Die 113

it with gas and never waxed it. A friend said to me, “our lives are a visual aid to the outside world of the quality of our life.” Have you ever been around a person who could dim the lights just by walking into the room? These are they whose goal in life is to have someone ask them, “What's wrong?” The answer varies; either they were abused as kids, or their lover left, or their kids are bums or they were not born rich or beautiful. If you and I, by the quality of our lives tell the watching world that we are blessed, no one will ask, “what's wrong?” and then the people who may have wronged us are off the hook! We must vote. We must decide. Do we want an abundant full life or must we get even? We

cannot be instruments of healing and revenge at the same time. I had to ask myself seventeen years ago if I cherished this life of mine and if I were willing to fully forgive anyone that I was bitter toward. We have learned to employ whatever situation we find ourselves in and turn it into chaos. We can deal with struggle which we think we deserve. Only when things begin to go right do we shoot ourselves in the foot. We sabotage our own growth and development. Sound familiar? Had I engineered my own demise? We, unlike the little camou114 Too Young To Die

flaged creatures

of the planet, change our

environment to suit us- and we do it every minute of every day. Let it go. Whatever it is. Choose life and health. Let eternity deal with the knots on the underside of the embroidery hoop. Let’s turn the hoop right side up and see the patterns of shape and color. During this time I developed three affirmations that I'd like to share with you. These will not be the ones you might use but a least you will see the process and develop

your own. Affirmations are short sentences which affirm a truth you would like to make an automatic thought process by repetition. My first one dealt with a very common challenge that most of us face every day. Have you ever felt like a pair of brown shoes in a room full of tuxedos? Have you ever felt like you were just not enough? In my senior year in high school I was 4' 11" tall. The average girl was 5'7". They'd get mad if Iasked them to slow dance. I was what you might call a late bloomer. I was voted the “most improved” player on the track team; two years in arow. Remember how boys used to give their girlfriends their class ring and they’d Too Young To Die 115

wrap angora yarn or tape around them to make them fit? I was the only senior whose girlfriend wore my class ring on her pinkie finger- and it was tight. I asked her to puta little tape on the outside of the ring. Who would know? I was sixteen before I got my first jock, and mine had darts init. Oh, things were tuffl What experiences like these do is leave you with the impression, even after you grow, that you somehow don’t measure up. Perhaps you come from a broken home or a welfare situation or in some way that you could look around and see that you did not exactly geta square deal. Maybe you weren’t meant to get one. Maybe it’s destiny! My first affirmation is real simple: I AM ENOUGH! I am tall enough. I am smart enough. I am handsome enough. I am enough. I have a report card from my third grade teacher. She enclosed a note that I kept all these years. Mrs. Eshman wrote, “Dear Mrs. Hill, I believe it would be an injustice to give Rick the grades he has actually earned.” Great. I remember sitting in class, hearing the lesson, and not getting it. I heard the words 116 Too Young To Die

but nothing translated. I could not figure out for the life of me how those other kids got it. Actually, I did not read a book or get a grade much higher than a “D” until college and graduate school. Have you ever been inaroom of successful people who make a lot of money and feel very uncomfortable? Like they all knew what to say and how to say it but you were on the outside looking in? The interesting thing is that they were probably looking around at you and thinking the same thing! It’s pretty common stuff. For the right circumstances and people you are perfect; you are enough. Itis up to us to move forward in this confidence and analyze our talents, purpose and destiny. Secondly, I didn’t think that what I was doing with my life was very important. Ilooked at famous people or leaders of large companies or governments and thought, “now those people are very important.” Did you ever see the movie The Ten Charleton Heston played Commandments? the part of Moses. There was a scene I will never forget. We were at a drive-in movie and

I recall seeing Moses talking toa bush that was on fire. I’m glad it was him and not me. Imagine taking that story home to the troops Too Young To Die 117

that night? The interesting thing to me is that God, represented by the burning bush, told Moses to remove his shoes since the ground he was standing on was holy. Holy? What made that ground holy? This was not a temple or any place where the priest was. What made it holy was the unique combination of God and man- a “theanthropic” union. And for those who walk with God, what ground isn’t holy’? Do we not ordain the moment just by being there? Is it our activity or our presence which lends magic and passion to every event? So, I began to Say, Everything I Do Is Important!

Sometimes we feel guilty when we are at the office and should be with the family. When we are with the family we feel guilty that we should be at the office. We are never anywhere. Let’s face it. We are so good at living in 1 any moment except the one we're in. I think we ought to set goals as long as we don’t mistake the goal for the game. The object of the game is to get the ball through the uprights, but the joyis in playing the game. As long as our goals don’t take us too far into the future or block our present moment 118 Too Young To Die

focus,

they're fine. Right now, pounding this computer key board is important. Just minutes ago we got a power surge from a storm here in the tropical city of Boca Raton. I hadn’t saved the text in a couple of hours or so even though I know better and I havea surge protector- but the screen went blank. Gone. Every golden word. Rats. There is not a thing in the world more important for me to do right now than re-type this book because it is what I’m doing right now. When I speak to an audience they are the best audience in the world because they happen to be the only audience in existence at that moment for me. We sanctify the event just by being there. It keeps me from “cocktail” talk; looking over the shoulder of the person I’m talking to for someone more interesting or more influential. Present moment living has an exciting effect on the littlest things. When we bring passion to any activity we empower it

and ourselves with life-giving vitality. Everything I do...Is Important! Lastly, when Dr. Bertagnol told me that my cancer had advanced to stage three, I knew my time was running out. When I asked the chemotherapist for time in which to make a decision he said, “you don’t have a lot of time!” Too Young To Die 119

Listen to this: present moment living can expand time. If you are constantly living in the next moment you never have this one. Have you ever had an Excedrine headache by ten in the morning, your shoulders are up around your ears by noon, and youre getting to “happy hour” a little earlier every day?” That kind of tension is a killer. When we slow our minds to focus on each event, to experience that event to its fullest, our lives will not rush by ina blur, but will instead be a constantly expanding mosaic of events. Our lives, the days that you and I spend on this planet, are nothing more than the sum of each moment together. If we live each moment successfully we will have successful days and, ultimately, a successful life. Our focus then is the moment. My affirmation is, I HAVE TIME!

Time to do things right so I don’t have to do them again. Time to focus outward, to see and hear what others are saying and feelingnever again to be on the outside looking in. To be a part of, a piece of, a cause of what is happening. No longer a spectator. I have time to start new projects. Life hasn’t passed me 120 Too Young To Die

by. Dr. Forrest Shaklee, Sr. was 65 years old before he and his two sons started selling vitalized minerals to his chiropractic patients. Colonel Sanders was over 65 before he started selling his magic herbs and spices to chicken lovers around the world. If you ever feel like the train left you on the platform, STOP! Look around you. Opportunity is abundant. Focus on doing what you are doing right now so well that you begin to love it and others could not do it like you even if they tried. Lee Shaklee often repeated this saying, “They copied and they copied, but they couldn’t copy my mind. So, I left them sweating and swearing, And a year and a half behind!”

It is hard for a life that is not enough, that does unimportant things and one that is rushed, to have and maintain vibrant health. These are the issues that I needed to address to conquer a terminal illness.

Perhaps these

are areas of concern for you. Right now, this

moment, is the one to pick as your new start.

Let me bring to an end our time together with the little mouse, Reepicheep. When the Dawn Treader had entered unfamiliar and dark waters, like the ones you may be facing

Too Young To Die 121

now, the crew decided not to go further. Reepicheep, of course, wanted to continue the mission. Drinian, one of the principle characters asked Reepicheep in heated tones, “what manner of use would it be ploughing through that blackness?” “Use?” replied Reepicheep. “Use, Captain? ...So far as I know we did not set sail for things useful but to seek honor and adventures.”

Changing your mind and action is a scary thing. But what is your potential? It is so much more than getting well. How good could life be? How much can there be in a moment of time? Why try? For honor and adventure! Be well.

122 Too Young To Die

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We were together to fight for a common cause... life itself! We were a team. We had defied public opinion, the medical establishment, turned our back on insurance coverage and traveled into a world

that even

our

loved

ones,

in most

cases,

| .

| )

begged us not to enter. We were gambling all that we had, and like men

at war

—

if we lost, we all

would die!

ISBN 0-9602704-0-X)

)