Sam laughs when he recalls this story, because a few years
earlier when he first pitched his therapy to Cedar Sinai, names of
patients were on the x-rays, placed there when the x-ray was taken.
Sam’s no fool. He’d gotten permission from his patients to use their
names. He flashed the before and after x-rays in front of them and .
. . .
“‘Oh, no,’ cried Cedars,” Sam relates. “‘You can’t use people’s
names on your x-rays or they’ll sue you.’” Sue “you” meaning “us,”
is how Sam took this.
Sam removed the names to placate the people at Cedars, and when
these same x-rays appeared in court a few years later, they had no
names on them, and therefore they couldn’t possibly belong to the
same person, as they had in the initial presentation.

BEFORE: Right lung surrounded by
cancer. |
|

AFTER: Resolved after six weeks of therapy. Note that the
ribs have no scar tissue. |
It was all quite laughable, especially in light of the fact that
he also had x-rays of this same patient’s liver, before and after.
Even without the name on these x-rays, it was quite obvious that the
liver, with a metastasis in the first x-ray, had to be the same
liver in the second, without the metastasis, because this woman had
also had a cyst on her liver. The cyst was there before and after.
However, the liver was a bit larger on the after x-ray, and this too
was pointed out.

BEFORE: Liver metastasis in a 42 year
old female. The benign congenital cyst is circled at the
top. |
|

AFTER: Cancer is gone after two weeks of therapy, but the
cyst is still there. |
But they were right, to a degree. There was no scar tissue from
the cancer on the after x-ray, and that got Sam thinking. In earlier
cases, with his earlier formulae, he would find scar tissue after
the cancer shrunk. Why wasn’t there scar tissue now in the after
picture? And why did the liver look a little bit larger?
It turned out that some of the sera Sam had been using were not
just acting in an immune fashion to attack the cancer, but that they
were acting on a DNA level to repair the cancer cells and turn them
back into normal cells. And that would account for no scar tissue
and the liver looking a tad larger.
But this got Sam thinking and he recalled that some of the best
work he’d ever read on cancer was by a guy called Dr Lewhison, back
in the late twenties (or thirties). Lewhison basically had proposed
that if there’s a damaged yeast cell, human DNA could repair it. For
example, if we were to damage a yeast cell with x-rays to the point
where it could no longer reproduce, we could repair that yeast cell
using human DNA.
This is quite significant because Lewhison was working long
before we knew much about
DNA. We knew about genes, but still very
little. And since yeast reproduces asexually, in a process called
budding [in which a perfect copy “buds” or grows off the original as
seen in the photograph to the right],
the DNA of the original yeast must be the exact same DNA in the
progeny (descendents).
So, Lewhison experimented and found that he was right; that
damaged yeast that was unable to reproduce could be repaired by
adding in human DNA, which was significant because any damage that
would make a yeast cell infertile would be extensive throughout its
DNA, and repairing it with human DNA meant that the human DNA could
repair multiple loci on the genes.
This is even more significant because, before Watson and Crick
had described the structure of DNA in the early fifties, Lewsohn,
because of this experiment, declared that human DNA must be similar
to that of yeast. And it turns out, years later, he was right. They
vary by only a couple percent.
“Then this guy did something amazing,” Sam told me.
Lewhison said something to the effect of: What if this similarity
isn’t just that human genes are so much better or so complex that
they have the repair capacity for the lower life forms . . . and
what if the lower life forms are so similar that not only can human
genes repair them, but that they can repair human genes as well?
When yeast reproduces, there has to be good “fidelity,” meaning
you need a “good copy.” Yeast cells haven’t changed for millions of
years. Their offspring are always perfect copies.
Whereas with humans, sexual reproduction brings in two sets of
DNA and in every reproduction our human cells change by half; the
mother supplying half and the father supplying half.
Lewhison then hypothesized that yeast cells, in order to maintain
their structure for millions of years, must have some sort of repair
capacity. Taking it one step further, he asked, what if that repair
capacity could repair human cells?
To test his hypothesis, he performed this brilliant experiment in
which he fermented yeast in the presence of human cancer cells.
It failed. So he tried again using a different strain of yeast.
Eventually he isolated a strain of yeast that would turn cancer
cells back into normal cells.
Then Lewhison disappeared from medical history.
However, a few years later, on a different continent, on the
outskirts of Germany, a brewing company shows up that makes a beer
that cures cancer. [Yeast is used to ferment beer.]
Legend has it that this brewery was one of the first things
Hitler blew up when he decided to rule the world.
Sam, in his research, had begun isolating various organisms,
fermented them with cancer cells, and sure enough, they repaired the
cancer.
And as it turned out, Sam’s therapy not only worked by
stimulating the immune system to destroy the cancer, it also worked
at the DNA level, repairing the cancer cells and making them normal
again.
Keep in mind that his theory that he first presented at the age
of 18 on tagging cancer cells (and viruses) in such a way as to make
them visible to the immune system, is still a part of his therapy,
and works best with huge, late-stage tumors. However, as he admits
today, repairing the cancer cells is just so much more effective in
getting rid of the cancer for good.
Pardon the Digression
At the Quackpot site mentioned above (Quackwatch), you’ll find
the following sentence: