As I’ve said, I’m totally committed to the big guns of medicine.  I need the chemo, the surgery and radiation. No question! My team of doctors, headed up by Dr Anne Gudgeon, are phenomenal. I am deeply grateful to be in such incredible hands.

This week, I decided to add another string to my bow and book an appointment with Dr Renee Usdin, a medical doctor and extremely talented homeopath. This isn’t an out of the blue decision. I’ve been consulting Dr Usdin for years. She’s cured everything from migraines to persistent coughs. My interest in alternative treatments goes back to my  childhood. My mother, a woman way before her time, always consulted a homeopath. He dealt with everything our family needed and once even sorted out a rugby injury!

I arrive at Dr Usdin’s Orangekloof practice in the late afternoon. Birds are already heralding in the evening and a soft light frames the heavily laden lemon tree. Before I even reach her charming room, I am calmed by the gentle rhythm of nature all around me. My appointment is a long one and as I settle into the sofa, I feel my breathing slow down to a calmer pace. How lucky am I to be able to share this burden with a healer of such calibre? I answer her questions honestly, secure in the knowledge that she’ll put together the right remedy to work in conjunction with the chemo. In homeopathy there is no one size fits all. Each remedy is tailored for the person it’s meant for. 

I warm my hands around a mug of rooibos tea and watch Dr Usdin as she opens her cupboard. She prepares my specific mixture with infinite care. I am to take it every evening, before retiring. I make a new appointment before I leave, secure in the knowledge that this is exactly what I need to do. 

Five nights in and I am having the most amazing dreams! In fact I think I’ll approach a film company with my script after all this. Archie eyes me suspiciously when I count out eight of the tiny pills. “Is my therapy not enough?” is the message I pick up. He suspends his purring until I’ve completed my new ritual.  Then he settles on my chest and I reward him with with a long scratch behind his ears. Despite his initial reservations, I suspect he’ll still be cuddled up next to me, when the sugar birds sing at my window.