Dr Vogl


I loved staying at the Hufeland Klinik and meeting such wonderful people but when I received my new timetable for the second week, on the Friday evening I was very disappointed. I had come to the Hufeland Klinik for photo dynamic therapy and localised hyperthermia with low dose chemo. I found that my schedule for next week was full of treatments that I can get in England. Reflexology, massage and infusions, I had also been booked to have fever therapy which I did not want. It was the weekend and no doctors were available, so I had no time to see anybody to discuss my treatments or that I was only staying for 2 weeks. My stay was about to get a lot shorter than originally expected.

My last weekend at the Hufeland Klinik was great. I loved being with my new friends and we had formed a bond that probably can’t be developed that quickly in normal day life. We had seen each other’s blood, talked about toilet habits and wind but at the same time our conversations were intimate and deep. We said goodbye to Kelli who was from Illinois and it seemed so sad to say goodbye so quickly after only just getting to know her. She had stayed for 6 weeks and her tumour markers had gone down a little so that was good news. Kelli had been through a rough time in her life and I felt a lot of compassion for her. She had received a double mastectomy and 3 years later the cancer had returned to her spine, her personal and emotional life was so sad to hear. I wish her all the best and will keep her in my prayers.

Spending time with Aeesha, Helen and Royanne was wonderful and memorable. I will never forget our walk in the park, we all appreciated the beauty of nature and the trees just starting to bloom. When you are diagnosed with cancer you experience everything to the maximum! Fear, anxiety, sadness but you also experience the greatest love from people and the greatest appreciation for life! The beauty of nature comes alive and life is acknowledged as a precious gift. We played in the park like children and found a labyrinth which we followed. We then amused ourselves on the small obstacle course, we also discovered a huge chess board with pieces all intact. Helen and I played chess and people watched us in the park, we were too occupied in having fun and being in the moment to care what people thought of us. I will treasure my last weekend with these three wonderful human beings and I hope one day I will meet them all again!

On the Monday evening I found another lump under my arm! This frightened and shocked me! I knew I had to leave the klinik and receive treatment from Dr Vogl as soon as possible. I had heard of his great successes and I needed immediate treatment. The Hufeland Klinik was too slow and at least 6 weeks’ therapy is needed to see any difference. This would cost £25,000 and I didn’t even have half of that amount of money so I had to spend what I had wisely. This money had been given to me by an amazing, loving, compassionate friend and I have been overwhelmed by the help and love I have received on this journey. Dr Vogl made an appointment for me to have localised chemotherapy on Wednesday in Frankfurt. So now it was time to pack my bags and move on. I hate goodbyes so I couldn’t say goodbye to my new friends, I just left a present outside their bedroom doors and hoped that one day I will see them again.

Being in the big city of Frankfurt was daunting on my own! I felt lost, alone and extremely vulnerable and I cried thinking about the wonderful friendships I had left behind. I couldn’t speak the language and the difference between Bad Mergentheim and Frankfurt was worlds apart! I left my hotel room at 11am Wednesday morning. This hotel is near the equivalent of London’s Soho I walk past sex shops and a lady smoking crack in the middle of the street. I felt extremely scared and anxious! I get lost along the way but eventually find the hospital after about an hour. Dr Vogls clinic is in the basement of a medical university along the river’s edge. His waiting room is full of certificates, he seems to have received certificates and awards from all over the world. I sit down in the waiting room and hear two gentleman speaking English. I feel safe hearing the English accent and I’m eager to talk to them. I used to be quite shy, but having cancer has made me somewhat fearless. I start talking to them, Charles has throat cancer, this is his second time with Dr Vogl. His first treatment reduced his tumour by 10%. In England they have said to him that he needs a vocal box. Charles is determined this isn’t going to happen. He tells me the same story as I have heard time and time again in this last week, he had cancer 3 years ago and had the conventional treatment of chemo and radiation and now it has returned. While he goes for his treatment I speak to his friend Patrick who at 66 is studying for a degree in the Arts, he used to be an English teacher at a college in London, we have an interesting conversation and then after 2 hours it is my turn for treatment. I am escorted into a little room and told to take all my clothes off and put a hospital gown on and then go for an MRI scan. After the scan I’m led to the operating table. I have a pain killer and anti-sickness infusion put into my arm. I tell him to use the right arm as my left arm seems to have lost its vein after all the infusions at the Hufeland Klinik. At least its prepared me for this operation and boosted my immune system a little. A local anaesthetic is put into my groin area; this is very painful. He then inserts a tube up into my body and injects chemo into the breast and armpit area. The whole procedure takes around 20-30 mins and it’s not a very nice experience. Afterwards I feel immense burning inside me and I start to feel a little high from the morphine. I am put into a recovery room. After an hour the burning stops. I can hear Charles in the recovery room. “How are you Charles?” I shout out. “Is that Vanessa?” he asks and then we talk about diet and herbs whilst in the ward, I’m oblivious of the other people as we chat. I can’t see him as we have curtains around each of our beds. I then have the audacity to invite myself out to dinner with them. I am the last one in the recovery room. Charles and Patrick come back to see me and talk about going for an Indian and a beer. So there I am with a drip in my arm, lying in bed with a hospital gown on talking to two strange men by my bedside and going out with them for a curry and a beer in a strange city that I have no clue about! Fearless!!!! These two men are friendly and harmless and very kind and I feel comfortable with them, I suppose the cancer bonds people in a strange way.

Charles and Patrick treat me to an Indian and a beer and then walk me half way back to the hotel. Both me and Charles are feeling tired and in pain after the operation. I’m glad I met them and I will stay in contact, as I will with all the people I have met on this Germany experience. Over the next two days I stay in my hotel room watching films and feeling ill. Preparing for my travel home. I have no idea what my next move is, only time will tell and I’m hoping for some divine inspiration…


17th February

February 17 – I had a really bad night’s sleep, I have a single bed and the cushion is not even a proper bedding cushion, one is a large square flat cushion, the other is shaped like a sausage. I feel tired and drained and have a pounding headache probably due to the travelling and new environment. I have an appointment with the nurse at 7.45am and have to take down a urine sample. I then go into the “drip room” where 12 seats are placed next to each other in a circular room, each chair has a drip holder next to it. My first impression of the drip room is fear! 2 men are already sitting in two of the seats, they don’t speak English, one is sweating and has reclined his seat to a laying position, he looks extremely ill. I sit in one of the seats and look out at the view, the view is nice so I can focus my energies on that. An attractive, small young lady walks in with short dark hair, she looks at the drips and around the room and sits near a window, looking out. A male nurse walks over to me with several injection cases, I know what’s coming next as I had heard of the “blood wash” already. This ozone therapy consists of taking 100ml of your blood and then adding oxygen to it and then putting it back into your body. I am not looking forward to having 100ml of blood removed from me. The young woman leaves at this point. The male nurse puts a needle into my arm, I would of thought this would have been done privately but it’s in front of the other people, he then gives me the bottle in which the blood is pouring into and says hold that a minute. So there I am holding a bottle and watching my blood go from my arm into it. At that moment Terri from Florida walks in, she is a lady who I met last night, she is friendly and laughing and joking with the nurses, I smile but I’m distracted by my bottle of blood in my hands. The male nurse returns and takes the bottle, now the room is getting more full. A Chinese lady with her husband sits next to me and a Scottish man sits opposite me. The male nurse returns with my bottle of blood, now it looks lighter in colour, “It looks better now? Yes?” he says to me, it does look a lot lighter, but the thought of looking at my own blood still turns my stomach. He then hangs it up and inserts it back into my arm. At this point the young woman returns and she seems to be ignoring me, I later find out that its the blood bottle she cant face. The male nurse walks towards her with lots of needles, following the same procedure as he did with me “I don’t like needles and the thought of you taking my blood…..” at this moment she looks at me, I say “Don’t worry I was exactly the same 20 minutes ago, its ok, it’s not that bad” “I can do this” she replies “I’m going to psyche myself up” I realise she is a “newbie” just like me. Now the room is full and everyone relaxes and reads their books. I haven’t got a book, so I just close my eyes and relax. My next infusion is vitamin c this lasts about an hour. I’m then taken to have a homeopathic injection. It is now 11am Lunch is at 11.45 so I have time to go back to my room and go to the toilet (throughout this day I will be doing a lot of visits to the toilet). I see the young woman from the drip room and we sit next to each other while we eat lunch. It turns out her name is Aeesha from California, she had breast cancer 3 years ago had conventional treatment, it didn’t work, and now the cancer has returned, Aeesha is 43 years old. We have a good conversation about cancer, its nice to be able to talk about it as the “normal world” doesn’t like to talk about the c word and here we feel comfortable talking about our personal journeys and the various research we have both taken up.

Lunch turns out to be a 4 course meal. Salad for starter, then vegetable soup, followed by vegetarian meatballs with mash potato and red cabbage with a creamy raspberry yogurt for desert, I decide to treat myself to desert just for today. After lunch I go for a 40-minute walk in the park opposite the clinic and its lovely to breathe in the fresh air. I have to return quickly as again I need the toilet, and again, and again!! I then have to go for a massage, which completely knocks me out. I return to my room and sleep for 2 hours, I then wake up and go to the toilet!!!??!!

At tea time I talk to the two Canadian ladies called Royanne and Helen. Royanne had ovarian cancer she had surgery and chemo 3 years ago but the cancer has returned. As I talk to more and more people this seems to be a common story. Later in the week I talk to several other people. One lady had a double mastectomy and chemotherapy, 3 years later it returns in her spine. Another lady has bone cancer and the medical service have given up on her. In this clinic there are people all over the world staying here, all hoping for a cure. Each story saddens me as I realise that each and every person is desperate to heal and many of them have had people raise funds for them to stay here, or they are putting it on their credit card or life insurance. Alternative treatments are expensive and can only be found in Germany or Mexico. It seems that the immune system is the key. Whatever treatments are supplied boosting the immune system is vital. This can be achieved through diet, mistletoe injections and vitamin c infusions. Healing cancer naturally by boosting the immune system is a long and expensive journey and its seems an injustice that people have to leave their home country, rely on loans and fund raising to get better. I start to think of the millions of pounds that cancer research takes every year, 600 milion! That money could save millions of lives with specialised treatment BUT they don’t give the money to the people, they experiment on animals and spend most of their money on advertising and fund raising events. This money should go to the people with cancer to help them. Cancer research?????? Britain has found ZERO answers to cancer and their research is the same as mine??!!! I could supply a website identical on ZERO pounds a year! More needs to be done!



Hufeland Klinik Day 1

For those who have followed my blogs, a diversion took place 2 weeks ago. After deciding to go to Latvia and have virotherapy, more opportunities arose. In one weekend I had to choose between Latvia and virotherapy, go to Germany and receive ozone therapy along with several other immunotherapy treatments, stay in England to receive specialised treatment, or go to Frankfurt to see professor Vogl (the man who treated Farrah Fawcett). I weighed up the pros and cons as follows;

  1. Virotherapy is extremely successful for skin cancer and also shows great results for liver cancer. There seems to be no documentation of results with breast cancer.
  2. Hufeland Klinik offers many treatments to boost the immune system, adding high antioxidant treatments as well as accommodation and full board. I personally am interested in PDT , mistletoe treatment, localised hypothermia, blood wash and the high dose vitamin c injections that are all included in the price.
  3. Professor Vogl has eliminated tumours with a microwave current being injected straight into the tumour as well as localised chemotherapy. Dr Vogl is in Frankfurt near the Hufeland Klinik
  4. Dr Sharma in London can conduct a blood test that will show exactly what your personal cancer will react to. He sends your blood off to Greece where they test your blood against different types of medication including chemotherapy and different herbs and vitamins like wormwood, vitamin c, green tea and even baking powder. Each person responds differently to different therapies, vitamins and medication. In general they have found 70% of people react positively to wormwood and vitamin c and only 30% of people react positively to chemotherapy drugs. Each one of us is individual, therefore when you read that someone has  cured their cancer of green tea or cannabis oil it shows their individual success. It may not be your individual success. This sounds ideal, but I have waited 2 months already and waiting a further 6 weeks for blood test results doesn’t rest well with me at this time, I need to start treatment asap.

With the money I have, I decide to go to the Hufeland klinik for 2 weeks, they suggest 4-6 weeks but my funds are limited. After the 2 weeks I will either go to Dr Vogl or Dr Sharma.

February 16th 2016

The day is here, the day that could change my life forever. I can hardly believe that I will be in Germany soon having treatment. I open the huge curtains and look out of the Radisson Hotel room window and say “Goodbye England” I then contact my daughter with a list of jobs to do. I will miss her and my little dog so much but I have a mission and that is to heal and be perfectly healthy.

As the plane takes off I feel a sense of freedom, no more worrying about bills, no more stress and I start thinking about how I will create my new life when I am better. I look out of the plane window and see the houses so small, no bigger than my finger nail and my mind wanders to the millions of people down below me, who, like me are stressing and just trying to get by in life. I wish with all my heart that I had the power to make peoples lives easier with less struggles, if I had the power right now to zap down a cloud of healing, I would. A big lesson for me and something that awakened within me whilst I was writing “The 7 principles to transforming and healing your life” is that the outside world is a reflection of your inner world and your cells and atoms are your inner universe. So at the time everything was going wrong for me, my inner universe was also going crazy. I was killing myself with under nourishment and too many bad toxins like alcohol and cigarettes, emotionally I was stressed, anxious and felt alone. So if I was abusing my inner world then it would make sense this would reflect outwardly. Maybe I can heal people by teaching the 7 principles? The thought drifts away as my heart starts to beat faster, the plane starts to land.

Now if you or a loved one is thinking of going to the Hufeland Clinic please be aware the Germans are mad drivers, they drive extremely fast and they go extremely near to the car in front and change lanes so quickly. You will have to hold onto your seat and go through 40 minutes of palms sweating. I am sure a few noises came out of my mouth like “woah” and “aaah” that’s universal language for “You are a crazy, mad driver!”

When I first arrive at the Hufeland Clinic Im a bit disappointed and scared. Its very clinical and my room is like a hospital room. I didn’t have time to unpack, I was given forms to fill in and then had an appointment with the doctor immediately. Im given a bag and a white sheet and told to take the white sheet to all my appointments. I feel scared, I think I had imagined a spa rather than a hospital but reality strikes and I sit patiently waiting for the doctor. The nurse then takes me into a room and conducts an ECG, tests my blood pressure, weighs me and then gives me a bag of vitamin tablets and a timetable of when to take them. Ive seen 3 patients so far and every one of them looks pale and on deaths door, this upsets me and scares me at the same time.

Then I meet Dr Demuth for the first time. He has a nice office with pictures of the Dalai Lama next to him and Buddhist monks. “Oh so you’re a Buddhist” I say to him. After this we continue to talk whilst going through medical procedures at the same time. It looks like we have a lot in common, our views are exactly the same spiritually and in life. He makes me laugh and he tells me about his past life experience as a Buddhist monk, this makes me feel more at ease. After 2 hours of talking I leave and Im late for tea. I sit down with 2 Canadian ladies and have a lovely talk and we make arrangements to meet up and go for a walk tomorrow, we also book ourselves on the meditation class and laughing yoga class on Thursday.

It is now 7pm I arrived at 3pm! Its time to now unpack suitcase and tell my friends and family Im ok and safe. I unpack then switch off the light in the bathroom, quickly realising its not a bathroom light its an emergency cord, a nurse knocks on my door! I feel embaressed and explain to the nurse its an accident, so I lay in bed and start to ponder on what tomorrow will bring….. then an hour later I go to the toilet and pull the emergency cord again doh! Great start!




The Results

16th December 2015


The Results


“The purple rose” is the name of my friend’s company, she conducts bespoke funerals of a non-religious nature and she puts her heart and soul into her work. Hazel is known as the purple rose, she certainly fits the part with her purple hair and big heart. We have been friends for around 7 years, we met when I taught a crystal workshop. At that time, it was her dream to set up a company that helped the dying and bereaved, she laughed as she said I would love to give funeral services. Now she is living her truth and doing all three. We appear in each other’s lives when we need help or lose direction. We are like each other’s guardian angel offering a hug and a hot cuppa and a listening ear. Hazel and I have talked a lot over the last two days to help me focus on a positive result and a plan for my future.


The day has come for my results, I feel positive but I need someone with me just in case it is bad news, so my friend of 14 years Ali drives me to the hospital. I know the Broadland suite like the back of my hand now after all the visits with my mum. My mum and Haz told me that if the breast cancer nurse is in the room you know it’s going to be bad news. I take a deep breath and play the waiting game again as my mind hopes for a positive result and my heart prepares for the worst.


I sit and wait with Ali, I always call her Boudicca because she has always been so strong for me and picked me up when I have been at my weakest. She has a dynamic energy, shes intelligent and interesting and more than that a wonderful, strong friend. Just lately I can see a more vulnerable side to her, I don’t know if it’s just me, maybe I’m starting to see a different side to people, a softer more childlike side that’s exposed and defenceless. I look at her differently now, she seems more human with her own weaknesses. She reminds me a little of my mum, a strong character but you can see vulnerability in their eyes. We sit in the waiting room, I’m keeping an eye on the breast nurse, Ali laughs at me as I look like a Meer cat sitting in the corner of the room.


My name is called; I walk into the room. My face and heart drops, the same breast care nurse that my mum had is sitting there next to the consultant. I cannot tell you the exact words that were said, all I heard was that I had cancer, I had an 18 mm tumour, plus another area that needed further investigation. That moment is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotion, Ali holds my hand as tears become uncontrollable running down my cheeks, I want to stop, I want to listen to what she is saying. My brain goes into yin and yang states, firstly I’m thinking how I can fix this then I go to shock, ME!?! Cancer?!? How the hell am I going to deal with this? The consultant talks in a matter of fact tone, this is just a normal day to her. I start thinking about all the research I did for my mum when she was diagnosed just months earlier! People have cured themselves with a high alkaline diet and no sugar, that’s what I will do! Tears are still falling uncontrollably whilst my thoughts are running wild. The nurse takes me into another room. Again I can’t remember what is said but I remember mentioning Latvia and Virotherapy, the nurse looked confused at my comments so I just remained quiet whilst holding onto a crumpled bit of tissue and dabbing my eyes.


I walked along the hospital corridor with Boudicca, it was just 3 days ago I was walking down the same corridor with my mum feeling numb, now my worst fears have materialised, my head is searching for answers, Ali is asking what I want to do, “I don’t know” I answer truthfully. What am I going to do next? What am I going to do? How am I going to tell my daughter? My heads full of hundreds of questions and I can’t find an answer for any of them. We walk into to the hospital café, I’m wondering around the small area dazed, I’ve temporarily forgotten how to make a coffee, so Ali takes over. From this moment on, no sugar and an alkaline diet I say out loud. When we sit down I talk about all the different treatments available around the world and I’m automatically trying to fix the situation as my head is swimming around looking for some kind of solution to all this. We talk about my daughter Jasmine, planning the best way to tell her the news.  I’m absorbed with questions and shock, my mind is like a roundabout and my repeated question is “how am I going to tell my daughter?”


Ali takes me shopping and I buy organic food and smoothies. As soon as she drops me off I throw my bags indoors and go straight to my purple haired friend at the end of the road for a hug. Hazel gives good hugs and a nice mug of tea to warm the soul. Jasmine is working late tonight and I’m dreading the moment I see her. Hazel hugs me and we sit and talk for hours, she understands that Im alone in all this and offers herself, home and family as a constant support for me! I feel humbled at knowing such a person. Our conversations are broken with a text from Jaz. It’s time to go home and face my beautiful daughter. She is a teenager with an attitude and I miss my little girl dearly, I know one day my daughter and I will be close again but unfortunately I’m living through the teenage years and I’m not enjoying it one bit! I walk home and sit down with Jaz, it’s very rare now that she spends much time with me sitting and talking, so it’s lovely just to have a moment with her. I try and be positive and explain it’s only a small tumour, so I will just have surgery and that will be that. She’s happy with that explanation and I’ve kept everything positive for her. I don’t want her to see me upset, not after going through the same ordeal four months earlier with my mum/her nan.


I take my dog Ella for a walk. I stand at the top of the cliff tops and look out at the sea and cry into the wind and rain. Cancer????? Cancer??? This can’t be it???? None of my life makes any sense. My life flashes before my eyes …. And you know I’ve read that saying many times and never really thought about those words, it only happens when you think your near to death, you just think back at your life and you can’t make any sense of it. You feel that you’ve reached this time in your life and haven’t even started living your truth, your purpose, your hopes and dreams! There has been so much wasted time on emotional dramas, so much wasted time on things that don’t matter! What do I do with my time now? Do I run away and go abroad? The answer is no, my next goals are to sort out finances and start healing as much as I can, any which way I can! Time to research and completely change my life!

December 13th 2015

Today was the beginning and the end. I didn’t know what this day would bring, but I was scared at the prospect of bad news. Bad luck seemed to have possessed me throughout the later part of my life, with an abusive relationship pulling all happiness right from under my feet! Two years ago I started my life again from scratch, I thought things were changing for the better as I started to change my mind set. I started manifesting wonderful things and I understood the language of the universe and the subconscious mind! I had my own radio show, I conducted a TEDX talk and I was on the path to living my dreams! But today, today was the beginning and the end!

My heart was pounding so fast I had to gasp for air, tears were uncontrollably running down my face. I felt like a fool! I was just sitting in the waiting room with my mum but I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. It was only 4 months ago when my mum had been through the same thing and I can remember holding her in my arms as she was shaking and crying. Holding your own mother in your arms somehow weakens the soul, my mum! Once so big and powerful in my eyes, now trembling like a frightened little girl. I comfort her and stay as strong as I can. Now it’s my turn, or not, only time will tell. Time is slower than I’ve ever experienced and every time I look at the clock the second hand moves in slow motion. As we sit waiting for my name to be called my mum tries to distract me by joking and talking about the colour of the walls!?! I know I’m over reacting so I try and calm myself down by taking deep breaths.

My name is called and a breast surgeon examines the lump that I’ve tried to ignore for most of the year, it’s an embarrassing situation, but after the examination she tells me that I need to have more tests. I put a hospital robe on and we are taken to another part of the ward to sit and wait again. I recall when this happened to my mum, they took 3 biopsies from her breast, she wasn’t expecting it and it frightened and shocked her, she then returned a few days later and was told she had breast cancer. This shook me and my daughter’s world, I looked up in the sky and shouted “Why?” and then begged God to heal her every day. Now she is sitting with me waiting again for the inevitable news.

I’m taken into a room to have a mammogram, I swore 4 months earlier this is something I would NEVER do, yet here I am with no choice. I take deep breaths and every time its squeezed painfully tight by the machine, I just hold my breath and count to 10. This seems to work well with my psyche, I start to relax and tell myself everything’s going to be ok. I return to my mum in a much lighter mood and we joke with the nurses.

The nurse returns with a concerned look on her face “We have to do more tests” She was very reassuring as I walked back into the mammogram room. This time it was very uncomfortable and counting to 10 didn’t work, it was extremely painful. I asked to see the mammogram and she showed me two areas that they were concerned about. Next was the ultra sound and then the doctor took 3 biopsies of the breast, blood dripped on the bed, it’s a horrible procedure and I can understand why it upset my mum. We had been in the hospital for over 3 hours I was exhausted and numb. I looked at the nurse in hope “what do you think the results will be?” she proceeded to tell me “it doesn’t look benign.” I walked down the corridor as my mum chatted away trying to lift my spirits. I was just dazed and emotionless …. What if this is it? What if this is the end? My life had just been one emotional turmoil after another, one failed relationship after another. I’d always clung to hope, hope that I would find the love of my life, optimism and anticipation that I would achieve my dreams! Now hope and optimism was drifting away fast.


I sit round my mums just watching television, I have a warm cup of earl grey, I watch mindless TV whilst she walks to the shops to get me pain killers, I won’t take them, but she needs to help in her own way. My mum returns and holds me in her arms “I just wish you hadn’t had such a tough deal in life” “I just wish something good would happen to us” We cry together at the thought of our lives and how we both still have our dreams inside of us, that still have never transpired.


I could have stayed all night but I had to get home for my little family consisting of an 8-year-old Cavalier called Ella and my 19-year-old daughter, Jasmine. I walk home in the dark, the wind and a light rain blows onto my face as I cry into the universe, repeating in my mind “please, please, please let me be ok, please.  This can’t be it! I have so much more to give!” It carries on raining softly into my face as I walk, my head is pounding and spinning. When I get home, nothing seems normal anymore, just nothingness is inside of me!  Before I knew it I was in bed reflecting on the day and feeling the pain of the biopsies, the night becomes restless and my dreams are dark and confusing.