A Profile of Courage in Cancer

This is in memory of Ernst Pagenstecher, a Buddhist mentor of mine in my youth who died of cancer in 1984.  He would have turned 105 this year.  

The motive for writing about it is to share another profile in courage, similar to the one I wrote about Dr. Fritz Kaufmann. (http://choyindorje.blogspot.com/2018/03/in-praise-of-my-first-buddhist-mentor.html)  Since Ernst Pagenstecher now even has an entry in the German edition of Wikipedia, which also mentions his bout with cancer, it may be helpful to add a few details that remain unmentioned in the official biography.  Even more so because Wikipedia does not have the facts quite right!  According to the Wikipedia entry, Ernst Pagenstecher fell ill with cancer in 1983. This is not how it happened.  I personally learned about his illness from his own lips while sitting with him at the dinner table in his house in Wiesbaden. I thus know that he actually was diagnosed with both advanced kidney and prostate cancer as early as in the fall of 1976.  I remember the date so clearly because at the time I visited Wiesbaden more frequently. Ernst Pagenstecher had offered to help me with the editing of my first book translation manuscript.   

In itself, the cancer does not make for an interesting story.  Advanced organ cancer is usually the death sentence for those who had to receive the news, especially when treated according the textbook oncology way.  Which is something Ernst Pagenstecher understood at the time, when people in general were far less educated about the matter, and he was not willing to be led to the slaughterhouse without a looking for an alternative and trying it out to the best of his abilities.

Therefore I want to high-lighten, how he faced the situation, worked with it, containing the cancer—and thus preserving his dignity and his quality of life for as long as possible, which in his case amounted to a life extension of about eight years.  He managed to do so in the face of adversity and, initially, no less faced with great hostility from the side of his physicians who all were dead against what he told them that he would do and then set out to do.  In a similar situation, we would have to do the same: not only face the cancer, but also confront the doctors who want to sell their therapy, if we are so inclined. 

The personalized and totally alternative approach that he eventually chose was of course in line with his character, even though in general, the man did not wear his views on his sleeve.  People of his generation, and especially his family background rarely did.  On first glance Ernst Pagenstecher looked absolutely unassuming; not someone you would notice—except may be for his eyes.

He came to the dharma in 1955 and belonged to the small group of people who renewed the interest in Buddhism in Germany after World War II.  He was a student of several renowned Buddhist masters in India, and in the US, including Lama Anagarika Govinda and Chogyam Trungpa.  He practiced and meditated regularly; in addition, he lectured, he taught, and he served as a mentor to some young people like myself.  All of this happened alongside his day job at the Ministry of Agriculture of a German state government.  You could say that acted a bit the maverick, even at his job.  He also was one although there was no display of swagger.

It felt sort of eerie to hear about the cancer at first when I was in my mid-twenties, and as I am writing this I now recollect even how the subject came up.  We were sitting at the dining table in the corner of the living room to have dinner after working on the translation.  Instead of the usual staple of rye bread, cheese and vegetarian dips, my mentor had a salad… and absolutely no carbs.  I found that unusual and commented on it.  In return he mentioned in his calm and understated manner, that a slight problem with his health had arisen, “just a little cancer here and there in my body, which now forces me to change my diet.”  After which he went on to tell me the story pretty much in the same way is it was written down as an example for alterative cancer treatments in another book, which co-authored almost 20 years ago, The 9 Principles of Self-Healing.  And now I am quoting from it.

“We had a good friend (he is deceased now) who many years ago was diagnosed during a regular check up which full blown cancer of both the prostate and kidneys.  Immediate surgery was suggested, followed by the usual protocol of radiation.  At that time our friend was in his early sixties, and happily married as well as deeply committed to the spiritual path.  He also was physically very active, running every morning in the summer months and in the winter going to the Alps or Scandinavia for cross-country skiing.  He asked the doctors what would happen to his manhood, and how long it would take him to be able to ski again (he had just booked a 3-week trip to Norway with that idea in mind).”

“The doctor’s face turned grim as the prognosis that he was going to give, regarding the likelihood of such recreational activities in the future.  After the doctor had given his opinion, our friend thanked him and left, stating that he needed a second or even a third opinion. ‘But there is no time’, the doctor warned, ‘we have to operate immediately’.  ‘No, we don’t,’ our friend replied.  ‘It is my body and my life, and I am going to find an alternative solution that satisfies me, because with what you are suggesting I should put myself through, I might as well be dead.  What’s the point of living, if you can’t enjoy life?’  He went to two more doctors who gave concurrent opinions.  All the doctors almost became hopping mad trying to pressure and convince him by gravely pointing to his test results.”

“When our friend finally opted for a treatment combining juice fasting, nutritional supplementation and ozone therapy with a physician in Baden Baden, they declared him insane.  And yet, he lived eight more years, quite content with his fate and taking several extended cross-country skiing trips to Norway and other places during these remaining years.  The therapy he opted for required a lot of discipline.  He had to completely change his diet, do regular juice fasting, and visit the physician for a longer series of ozone treatments twice a year.  Even though burdensome in a way, the disciplined regimen enabled him to get on with his life in the way he had wished for.”

“He was not disabled or incapacitated, and when his time was up, he died a happy man.  And why?  Because he withstood tremendous outside pressure and trusted his own intelligence regarding the treatment that he finally chose.”

You may interject that, in the end, the patient did die of cancer—despite of his maverick long-term therapy and follow-through.  No doubt.  There can also be no doubt that, had he listened to the first three doctors’ advice (one at the German Mayo Clinic, which is located in Wiesbaden) he would have died much earlier – and under much more miserable conditions.  If you don’t believe it, check out the statistics for survival rates in metastatic advanced organ cancers for yourself.

However, the point of the story is not to malign any one person or the conventional approach in oncology.  For most patients who are lacking in discipline and willpower, there is no other option than what is usually offered.  Only a patient with a certain amout of stubbornness and certain degree of awareness of the side effects of the textbook approach, like Ernst Pagenstecher, will indeed ever be comfortable under fire and with withstanding the tremendous outside pressure in favor of a more conventional treatment protocol—and furthermore muster the discipline needed for an integrative therapy that hinges on the client’s willingness and ability to cooperate and do his part.  Many people are not made for this, and thus they will have to go with the usual choice.

If there is a point at all to be made here, it is that fear is a bad advisor.  And in that sense, doctors who try to sell their medicine by putting the fear of death in the client’s head and heart do NOT appear to act like very good doctors.  May be they are merely a bit lazy—too complacent to look beyond the fence of their particular specialization; not willing to explore new territories.  However, as soon as the fear drops away, the chances increase for the patient to live with the cancer, managing it, keeping it contained.

For the same reason, beware of gurus who want to make you to toe the line out of fear.  They are stealing your chance for making any real progress in your practice and always keep you at the level of dependency.      

To conclude, it was was a stroke of luck to have such independent minded dharma mentors in my youth.  It supported my inborn tendency against sectarianism and religious hypocrisy.  I became sort of immunized against such fallacies, thanks these indomitable people.  And even though I now practice and share very traditional Tibetan practices, even in a somewhat traditional way, I do so because it sometimes is the practical thing to do.  We cannot reinvent the wheel at every turn, and in the least the wheel of the teachings.  But if we stay true to ourselves and to the tradition we represent, the wheel on occasion mysteriously does take on a slightly different appearance, more in harmony for our needs and our times.