Prof. Jane Plant, PhD, CBE believes that giving up milk is the key to
beating breast cancer. Below is an extract from her book "Your Life in Your Hands".
Here she shares about her experience with breast cancer and her search for a cure for
this dreadful illness that affects millions of women worldwide. Read on to find out
why she is so convinced that milk and dairy products could be the problem.
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I had no alternative but to die or to try to find a cure for myself. I am a scientist -
surely there was a rational explanation for this cruel illness that affects one in 12 women in the UK
I had suffered the loss of one breast, and undergone radiotherapy. I was now receiving painful chemotherapy,
and had been seen by some of the country's most eminent specialists. But, deep down, I felt certain I was facing death.
I had a loving husband, a beautiful home and two young children to care for. I desperately wanted to live.
Fortunately, this desire drove me to unearth the facts, some of which were
known only to a handful of scientists at the time.
Anyone who has come into contact with breast cancer will know that certain risk factors - such as increasing age,
early onset of womanhood, late onset of menopause and a family history of breast cancer - are
completely out of our control. But there are many risk factors, which
we can control easily.
These "controllable" risk factors readily translate into simple changes that we can all make in our
day-to-day lives to help Prevent or treat breast cancer. My message is that even advanced breast cancer can be
overcome because I have done it.
The first clue to understanding what was promoting my breast cancer came when my husband Peter,
who was also a scientist, arrived back from working in China while I was being plugged in for a chemotherapy
session.
He had brought with him cards and letters, as well as some amazing herbal
suppositories, sent by my friends and science colleagues in China.
The suppositories were sent to me as a cure for breast cancer. Despite the awfulness of the situation,
we both had a good belly laugh, and I remember saying that this was the treatment for breast cancer in China,
then it was little wonder that Chinese women avoided getting the disease.
Those words echoed in my mind. Why didn't Chinese women in China get breast
cancer? I had collaborated once with Chinese colleagues on a study of links
between soil chemistry and disease, and I remembered some of the statistics.
The disease was virtually non-existent throughout the whole country. Only one in 10,000 women in China
will die from it, compared to that terrible figure of one in 12 in Britain and the even grimmer average of
one in 10 across most Western countries. It is not just a matter of
China being a more rural country, with less urban pollution. In highly urbanized Hong
Kong, the rate rises to 34 women in every 10,000 but still puts the
West to shame.
The Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki have similar rates. And remember, both cities were
attacked with nuclear weapons, so in addition to the usual pollution-related cancers, one would also
expect to find some radiation-related cases, too.
The conclusion we can draw from these statistics strikes you with some force. If a Western woman
were to move to industrialized, irradiated Hiroshima, she would slash her risk of contracting breast
cancer by half.
Obviously, this is absurd. It seemed obvious to me that some lifestyle
factor not related to pollution, urbanization or the environment is
seriously increasing the Western woman's chance of contracting
breast cancer.
I then discovered that whatever causes the huge differences in breast cancer
rates between oriental and Western countries, it isn't genetic.
Scientific research showed that when Chinese or Japanese people move to the
West, within one or two generations their rates of breast cancer
approach those of their host community.
The same thing happens when oriental people adopt a completely Western lifestyle in Hong Kong .
In fact, the slang name for breast cancer in China translates as 'Rich Woman's Disease'. This is because,
in China, only the better off can afford to eat what is termed ' Hong Kong food'.
The Chinese describe all Western food, including everything from ice cream
and chocolate bars to spaghetti and feta cheese, as "Hong Kong food",
because of its availability in the former British colony and its
scarcity, in the past, in mainland China.
So it made perfect sense to me that whatever was causing my breast cancer
and the shockingly high incidence in this country generally, it was
almost certainly something to do with our better-off, middle-class,
Western lifestyle.
There is an important point for men here, too. I have observed in my research that much of the
data about prostate cancer leads to similar conclusions.
According to figures from the World Health Organization, the number of men
contracting prostate cancer in rural China is negligible, only 0.5 men
in every 100,000. In England, Scotland and Wales, however, this figure
is 70 times higher. Like breast cancer, it is a middle-class disease
that
primarily attacks the wealthier and higher socio-economic groups ¨C those
that can afford to eat rich foods.
I remember saying to my husband, "Come on Peter, you have just come back
from China . What is it about the Chinese way of life that is so different?"
Why don't they get breast cancer?'
We decided to utilize our joint scientific backgrounds and approach it logically.
We examined scientific data that pointed us in the general direction of fats in diets.
Researchers had discovered in the 1980s that only l4% of calories in the average Chinese diet were
from fat, compared to almost 36% in the West.
But the diet I had been living on for years before I contracted breast cancer was very low in fat
and high in fibre. Besides, I knewas a scientist that fat intake in adults has not been shown to
increase risk for breast cancer in most investigations that have
followed large groups of women for up to a dozen years.
Then one day something rather special happened. Peter and I have
worked together so closely over the years that I am not sure which one
of us first said: "The Chinese don't eat dairy produce!"
It is hard to explain to a non-scientist the sudden mental and emotional 'buzz' you get when you
know you have had an important insight. It's as if you have had a lot of pieces of a jigsaw in your mind, and
suddenly, in a few seconds, they all fall into place and the whole
picture is clear.
Suddenly I recalled how many Chinese people were physically unable to tolerate milk,
how the Chinese people I had worked with had always said that milk was only for babies,
and how one of my close friends, who is of Chinese origin, always politely turned down the cheese course at dinner parties.
I knew of no Chinese people who lived a traditional Chinese life who
ever used cow or other dairy food to feed their babies. The
tradition was to use a wet nurse but never, ever, dairy products.
Culturally, the Chinese find our Western preoccupation with milk and milk products very strange.
I remember entertaining a large delegation of Chinese scientists shortly after the ending of the Cultural Revolution
in the 1980s.
On advice from the Foreign Office, we had asked the caterer to provide
a pudding that contained a lot of ice cream. After inquiring
what the pudding consisted of, all of the Chinese, including their
interpreter, politely but firmly refused to eat it, and they could not
be persuaded to change their minds.
At the time we were all delighted and ate extra portions!
Milk, I discovered, is one of the most common causes of food allergies. Over
70% of the world's population are unable to digest the milk sugar,
lactose, which has led nutritionists to believe that this is the
normal
condition for adults, not some sort of deficiency.
Perhaps nature is trying to tell us that we are eating the wrong food.
Before I had breast cancer for the first time, I had eaten a lot of dairy produce,
such as skimmed milk, low-fat cheese and yoghurt. I had used it as my main source of protein.
I also ate cheap but lean minced beef, which I now realized was probably often ground-up dairy cow.
In order to cope with the chemotherapy I received for my fifth case of cancer,
I had been eating organic yoghurts as a way of helping my digestive tract to recover and
repopulate my gut with 'good' bacteria.
Recently, I discovered that way back in 1989 yoghurt had been implicated in ovarian cancer.
Dr Daniel Cramer of Harvard University studied hundreds of
women with ovarian cancer, and had them record in detail what they
normally ate. Wish I'd been made aware of his findings when he had
first discovered them.
Following Peter's and my insight into the Chinese diet, I decided to give up not just yoghurt
but all dairy produce immediately. Cheese, butter, milk and yoghurt and anything else that contained dairy produce
- it went down the sink or in the rubbish.
It is surprising how many products, including commercial soups, biscuits and
cakes, contain some form of dairy produce. Even many proprietary
brands of margarine marketed as soya, sunflower or olive oil spreads
can contain dairy produce.
I therefore became an avid reader of the small print on food labels.
Up to this point, I had been steadfastly measuring the progress of my fifth
cancerous lump with callipers and plotting the results.
Despite all the encouraging comments and positive feedback from my doctors and
nurses, my own precise observations told me the bitter truth.
My first chemotherapy sessions had produced no effect - the lump was still
the same size. Then I eliminated dairy products. Within days, the lump started to shrink.
About two weeks after my second chemotherapy session and one week after
giving up dairy produce, the lump in my neck started to itch.
Then it began to soften and to reduce in size. The line on the graph,
which had shown no change, was now pointing downwards as the tumour
got smaller and smaller.
And, very significantly, I noted that instead of declining exponentially (a graceful curve)
as cancer is meant to do, the tumour's decrease in size was plotted on a straight line heading off the bottom of the
graph, indicating a cure, not suppression (or remission) of the tumour.
One Saturday afternoon after about six weeks of excluding all dairy produce
from my diet, I practised an hour of meditation then felt for what was left
of the lump. I couldn't find it. Yet I was very experienced at
detecting cancerous lumps - I had discovered all five cancers on my
own.I went downstairs and asked my husband to feel my neck. He could
not find any trace of the lump either.
On the following Thursday I was due to be seen by my cancer specialist
at Charing Cross Hospital in London. He examined me thoroughly,
especially my neck where the tumour had been. He was initially bemused
and then delighted as he said, "I cannot find it."
None of my doctors, it appeared, had expected someone with my type and stage
of cancer (which had clearly spread to the lymph system) to survive,
let alone be so hale and hearty.
My specialist was as overjoyed as I was. When I first discussed my
ideas with him he was understandably skeptical. But I understand that
he now uses maps showing cancer portality in China in his lectures,
and recommends a non-dairy diet to his cancer patients.
I now believe that the link between dairy produce and breast cancer is
similar to the link between smoking and lung cancer. I believe that
identifying the link between breast cancer and dairy produce, and then
developing a diet specifically targeted at maintaining the health of
my breast and hormone system, cured me.
It was difficult for me, as it may be for you, to accept that a
substance as 'natural' as milk might have such ominous health
implications. But I am a living proof that it works and, starting from tomorrow, I
shall reveal the secrets of my revolutionary action plan.
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