The End Didn't Feel Like the End

I could hardly believe it! After following Gerson Therapy fairly faithfully for almost two years — not travelling for over a year, obsessively juicing carrots, apples and greens every damn day, shoving coffee up my ass at least three times a day and not touching alcohol or anything artificially sweet — something arose to deprive me of the joy of a slow transition back to something like a normal life. You see, I had fallen off a small ladder in the summer. I didn't feel much at the time, but several weeks later shoulder pain began to build, and the function loss and pain were so bad by early September that surfing became impossible.

Gerson had brought mixed success with it. Three more melanomas had appeared, although one was already visible in photographs before I started and the others might have been lurking on my skin back then too. My blood pressure had normalised within weeks and eventually some inflammation markers, including my neutrophil-to-lymphocyte ratio, returned to normal ranges. And I was still alive. That was definitely a plus. Also, I had no detectable melanoma spread to my lymph nodes and no known distant metastases. However, the diet and routine dragged me down at times and almost certainly contributed to the waves of sadness which swept over me from time to time.

Against the backdrop of worsening shoulder pain and the therapy's mixed success, I didn't feel very much at all when October 2025 rolled around. Two years of Gerson had not transformed my situation in the way I had read about before starting the program. The Gerson therapist I had consulted with six times a year throughout those two years, at a price of £180 per hour, did not declare me healed at all. In fact, he had echoed the sentiments of the conventional doctors when he suggested I should expect another melanoma, albeit a thin one. He also wanted me to continue testing with the RGCC people and continue more or less in the same way. The end didn't feel like the end at all.

Within weeks of the onset of shoulder pain, I began reading about what it could be and came to three conclusions before I even saw a doctor: it might be a true frozen shoulder, it could be a torn rotator cuff, or it was melanoma-related. And whatever it was, I could see and feel I wouldn't be surfing again for a long time, if ever. Gerson's intensity ended but was replaced with something seemingly worse. Another curse? Would joy ever truly return to my life?