Don’t Be a Stuffer

In May 1999, as a recently engaged thirty-two-year old, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer. Given the two western medicine options—hysterectomy and a relatively untested drug—I opted for door number 3: an alternative juicing therapy. Six months later, however, it became clear the cancer was too aggressive and I ended up having a hysterectomy anyway. I never really wanted kids. …