We were looking forward to this age where we assumed our baby would be starting to crawl; instead, my husband and I were facing the news that our child had a large, cancerous tumor that had taken over her entire abdominal region. After months of chemotherapy treatments, a difficult surgery, and an even more difficult recovery, we learned that some of the tumor, which had been too dangerous to remove, was still active Neuroblastoma tissue… Rowan would likely need additional treatment.

In the throes of extreme anxiety, a trusted friend recommended a “healing class” called Tong Ren. The class was held nearby, so I decided to try it, with absolutely zero knowledge of what to expect. In a room of about 50 people, I watched dumbfounded as several leaders at the front of the room tapped on silicon dolls with metal hammers. Oblivious to my confusion, Rowan bounced on my lap to the beat of the hammers, clapping each time they stopped— she was loving it!

Still confused but now intrigued, I decided to go back a few more times. Within a few classes, I started to experience some odd sensations. I would become hot and tingly all over, and as I prepared to leave at the end, I would suddenly notice that my back pain had subsided and my anxiety had melted away. At the same time, the days that we attended Tong Ren, my husband would come home from work and note that Rowan, who had gross motor delays from the burden of the tumor and treatment, was suddenly much more energetic and mobile. “It was a Tong Ren day,” I’d explain.

After about a month of biweekly Tong Ren sessions, it was time for us to return to the hospital for an MIBG— an imaging scan with nuclear dye. Waiting for the results was agony. When our oncologist entered the patient room for our follow-up visit, she informed us that the scan showed… NOTHING! The tumor tissue was still there, but none of it had picked up the dye, meaning that it was benign, non-cancerous tissue. This was not expected.

Of course I have no way of teasing out the impact of Rowan’s medical treatment versus Tong Ren. What I do know is that Tong Ren clearly had a positive, physical and emotional impact on myself and Rowan, and that it was a welcome complement to the uncomfortable, but life-saving medical treatments she needed. Soon after we began Tong Ren, Rowan’s increased energy and comfort allowed her to begin to grow again, to eat better, and to learn to walk. She continued to ask for “tap tap tap,” tapping along on her own doll that someone in the community gifted her during class and at home.

Rowan is now six years old and still asks for “tap-tap” at bedtime. On the nights that I practice Tong Ren on Rowan and her sister, she is often asleep before I finish. While Rowan's tumor did eventually begin to slowly grow again, necessitating a re-surgery, her surgical recovery occurred so quickly and completely that even the surgeon was impressed. We hope the surgery is the last of her medical needs, but we also know we have a complementary therapy that can help our whole family feel better no matter what life throws at us.

Sometimes it takes a traumatic event to break down our mental barriers. Rowan’s cancer diagnosis did just that for me— I would have tried anything to help her and in fact, I did! Thankfully it opened up a whole new world of possibilities. A world where yes, there are scary toxins that give babies cancer, but there is also Universal Healing Energy that can be channeled to positively transform your body, mind, and spirit. 

Providing energy therapies for people of all ages and a range of conditions and symptoms has been the most fulfilling work in which I’ve ever had the privilege of engaging. In 2022 I had a beautifully full-circle opportunity to become a partnering practitioner with Lucy's Love Bus, offering these energy therapies to children with cancer and their family members, and in 2024, I was contracted by Central Vermont Medical Center to provide weekly Reiki to adult oncology patients.