by invitation only:


You are here because I invited you. You are here because I want you to know. You are here because I thought it would hurt you more if you did not know.

With all my hearth and port,

Jennifer Marie Cabral-Pierce


Dedicated to Bea, Robin and other heroines.

It all started with a letter to a handful of friends. Reading it now, it reveals my innocence to believe a cure could be that simple; It shows my arrogance in setting myself apart from others in my female clan going through a similar scenario that I am facing now; And it completely undermined where your will to live might take you. A will that compels you to go on a quest north and south, east and west, to places you never imagined you would go.

This note is proof that ignorance is bliss.



April 17th, 2016.

I am sending this note to a few women I have been gifted with in my life. I handpicked you because of your knowledge. Because of your knowing. Because I deeply trust your ability to heal yourself and others. The same reason my admiration for you and our kinship were inevitable.

I feel a lump in my left breast. It has been a couple of months now. To the few I opened my chest and said: "this is happening to me” all I received back was panic. Loving and caring, but still, panic. Suddenly I had to deal not with fears of my own, but fears projected into my body by others. Sorry, I cannot allow that in my home. I cannot allow that in my body. I never realized the level of fear enveloping our breasts and our chests. That shock was only surpassed by the realization of the fear I lack. I used to have way more fear of living than of dying. Now I have neither.

I thought I would look around and find many women like me. Wanting a new type of healing, a different kind of treatment, a unique process of cure that wouldn't pour wavelengths coursing through our bodies to look for a disease, but instead, inundates healing currents through our tissues just looking for a rebalance. But I found none.

I am honoring my body by giving it space and time to find its own process of healing and not jumping into precipitation and willingly mutilating it out of sheer panic. I am making room; I am holding a place emptied of fear and crowded with trust. And I am inviting you to be there with me. Nutrition, vitamins, tinctures, therapy sessions, guidance... just a chat and a cup of tea. If you have a suggestion of what has been helpful in your process of healing yourselfor of healing others, and you think I would benefit from your service, let me know what you can offer to help me to heal myself. Fees included, obviously.

And yes, I would even take names of traditional doctors. I could eventually be open to it and be grateful for that, if, and only if, you can refer me to someone that will not present me with the standard treatment package, as soon as I walk in the door: mammograms, biopsies, prescriptions, and surgeries. Just one year ago I was given the same treatment scheme for my digestive track. I said, "no thanks" to it. And I hope I can continue to say, "no thanks." As healers, doctors have the obligation of not piercing someone's body because of their own fears, their own greed, or their own habits. Yes, the only reason I was given that unnecessary colonoscopy, so brutal to my body was out of habit. A doctor's inability to diagnose anything without a procedure that is conveniently the most expensive on the list.

But let's leave Politics apart and get back to you: Doreen, Bea, Ashley, Jacklyn, Joelle, Bobbie, Robin, Jessica, Kim, just to name a few. I know that each one of you have inner wisdom and skills that you could share with me. I hope you will. I haven't seen a doctor, not because of fear of what I can find, but because I want to try a different way. Because I want to believe in a different way. And mostly because I know unless I heal the deeper source of this, it will continue to manifest through my body. It’s not a coincidence that all health struggles I've recently had are on the left side of my body. I am not afraid to dig into myself and my life for the truth. All I am asking is for you to support me, with your inner knowledge and your expertise, while at the same time, respecting my choices and my privacy. Can you do that? I have not shared this with anyone in my family or my partner. Again, I need space, not panic. Can you be there with me?

Love. Always.


Sunday, May 15th, 2016.






He was asleep.

On his bedside the book was open.

I appeal to my gods.

He appeals to his.


- To Gene. My sweetheart.

An email sent on Tuesday, May 17th, 2016. Biopse.

All neon like

Resting now. Waiting now.  Not one bit of pain. No bleeding. Just my body shaking. Of tension or relief? Continuum's Moon breaths throughout the entire biopsy. And Bjork's "all neon like", playing on loop from my earbuds.

Done. But it's only the beginning.



Not 'til you halo all overme
I'll come over
Not 'til it shimmers 'round your skull
I'll be yours

I weave for you
The marvellous web
Glow in the dark threads
All neon like

The cocoon surrounds you
Embraces all
So you can sleep

And they will assist us
'Cause we're asking for help
And the luminous beam
It feeds you,
Henh-yeah!, henh-yeah

The soft distortion
Fills you up
Nourish nourish
Your turtleheart

Don't get angry with yourself
Don't, don't get angry with yourself
I'll heal you

With a razorblade
I'll cut a slit open
And the luminous beam
Feeds you honey, heals you

Don't get angry with yourself

I'll heal you, I'll heal you
luminous, I'll heal you

Friday, May 20th, 2016.








Friday, May 25th 2016.


To be, or not to be: that is the question.

2B, or not 2B: that is the question.

Wednesday, June 1st 2016.


One day I will tell you. I will tell you about the battle. I will tell you about the blades. I will tell about the blood. I will tell you about poison. I will tell you about the history that is being made. I will introduce you to each one of my heroines. There are so many. There are just so many of us.

- to my parents

Thursday, June 2nd, 2016.

-"Is this your first bone scan?"

- This is my first everything.

Friday, June 3rd, 2016.


I just need to hear one question. Just ask me once. That's all I need to hear. My own answer is not important. Your question is.

At least take it from me with respect. Make me infertile with my permission. Don't take away my fertility and announce it as a mere side effect. Honor me with awareness. May I have that courtesy?

See, you just had to ask me once. And I knew right there and then I wanted you as my doctor.

Is it too daring to ask to give birth when I should be begging for my life?

You not only gave me a question. You also gave me an answer. You were Knelling next to me as I asked other than becoming pregnant would that injection in anyway help me heal? I knew your answer. You would just be injecting me with hope.

It is too daring to ask to give birth when I should be begging for my life.

I said no to conserving my ovaries, walked into the elevator, and a door closed. 

- To Doctor Sokol

Saturday, June 4th, 2016.

Wailing became a word. It became a word.

Saturday, June 5th, 2016.


By a tree they all gathered. By a tree they all whispered my name. They held my hand and pulled me in under the canopy.

They held me tight and supported my weight. My body weight. My soul weigh. 

Don't you need them? Don't you need us?

My eyes shed the answer I couldn't speak. My eyes shed the answer.

- to Dawn, Patti and Brian

Monday, June 6th, 2016.


I think the hardest has passed. I hope the hardest day has just passed.

Its' midnight. It must have passed. It must.

Tuesday, June 7th, 2016. - A.M.

First Battle scar

- "Never gave so much local anesthesia to someone during a chemo port insertion. Can you still feel it?"

- Yes.

- OK. One more, then.

- Just keep playing Pandora. Bjork louder. Radiohead louder. Just play it louder.

And the surgical room became a dance floor.

And it all became a dance. Just a dance.

- to Jason, Liz and Jerome (my surgical team during port insertion)

Thursday, June 9th, 2016.

Healing team defined. University Medical Center at Princeton.

So be it.


Friday, June 10th, 2016.


When your life expectancy depends on a number.

Every story has a long version, and a short version.

June 14th, 2016


She fought for it. All along, through it all, she fought for it.

Not once she gave up. Nor she asked why.

She chose to live. Grace and beauty she carried through it all, as she always had.


I can fight for it. All along. Through it all, I can fight for it.

Not once I'll give up. Nor ask why.

I choose to live. Grace and beauty I'll carry through it all, as I always have.

- to Eulina, my grandmother and Doreen


June 15th, 2016.


Thursday, June 16th, 2016.

1st chemo session:

The string  061616  occurs at position 325560 of the number Pi. This string occurs 163 times in the first 200M digits of Pi.

The string 061616 occurs at position 325560 of the number Pi. This string occurs 163 times in the first 200M digits of Pi.

Friday, June 17th, 2016.


Admitting that it happened to me,

must be the first chapter of this new book

my life started to write.


it's the only way...

My blog{ MILKYWAY }