After being diagnosed with Stage 4 non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, I accepted the treatment plan put in front of me.
Alongside that, I decided to understand everything I could about how the body responds to chemotherapy — and how I might support that process rather than interfere with it.
What emerged is something I call the 1% Protocol: a multi-faceted, no-stone-unturned approach focused on timing, restraint, and giving prescribed medicine the best possible environment to work.
This post is the practical layer.
This is not advice. It’s not a recommendation. It’s not a replacement for treatment. It’s simply what I do — alongside standard immuno/chemotherapy — and why.
Why supplements at all?
Chemotherapy is blunt by design. It targets fast-dividing cells — cancer cells, yes, but also hair follicles, gut lining, immune cells, and bone marrow. That’s not a criticism. It’s reality.
The question I kept coming back to was simple: if chemotherapy is deliberately stressful, how do I help the rest of my system cope with that stress — without interfering with the treatment itself?
Timing matters more than the supplement
Chemotherapy works — in part — by increasing oxidative stress inside cancer cells. Flooding the system with antioxidants at the wrong time makes no sense. Equally, leaving the body unsupported for weeks on end also makes no sense.
So the protocol evolved around windows: pre-chemo, the chemo and steroid window, and the recovery window. What I take — and don’t take — changes depending on where I am in the 21-day cycle. No supplement is “always on.”
What each element is there for
Magnesium. Chemotherapy depletes magnesium. Low levels often show up as fatigue, cramps, dizziness, poor sleep, and autonomic instability. This is foundational support, not something exotic.
Electrolytes (especially sodium). Fasting, chemo, steroids, and high fluid intake can all dilute sodium. Low sodium doesn’t feel dramatic — it feels like light-headedness, weakness, brain fog, and postural dizziness. Salt isn’t the enemy during chemotherapy.
Vitamin D + K2. Chemotherapy reduces circulating vitamin D. D plays a role in immune regulation and inflammation. K2 supports calcium handling and vascular health. This is maintenance, not “boosting.”
B vitamins. The gut produces many B vitamins. Chemotherapy disrupts the gut. B vitamins support red blood cell production, nervous system function, and energy metabolism — especially when gut production is compromised.
Omega-3s. Used cautiously and only outside chemo windows. Omega-3s support inflammation resolution and cell membrane integrity. Deliberately removed when oxidative stress is wanted.
Probiotics and fermented foods. Chemotherapy doesn’t just hit cancer cells — it hits the microbiome. The goal isn’t to “fix” the gut mid-treatment, but to limit damage and prepare for rebuilding later.
What I deliberately don’t take
One rule has guided every decision: if I can’t clearly explain why I’m taking something, when I’m taking it, and when I’m stopping it — I don’t take it.
High-dose antioxidants during the chemo window. I deliberately avoid large doses of vitamin C or E, glutathione or NAC, concentrated green tea extracts, resveratrol, and antioxidant blends around infusion time. Chemotherapy works, in part, by increasing oxidative stress inside cancer cells. Blunting that at the wrong time makes no sense.
“Immune boosters.” During chemotherapy, the immune system is being intentionally suppressed and reshaped. Trying to stimulate it blindly risks increasing inflammation and adding unpredictable signals.
Megadosing vitamins. Chemotherapy isn’t the time for aggressive optimisation. It’s the time for stability.
Anything without a clear exit plan. Nothing I take is permanent by default. If I don’t know when I’ll stop something or what signal tells me it’s no longer useful — I don’t start it.
Sugar, alcohol, and ultra-processed food. Not because they cause cancer on their own, but because they add metabolic noise, impair recovery, and make symptoms harder to interpret.
Why this matters
Doing less can feel uncomfortable. It can feel like you’re missing opportunities.
But in complex systems — especially biological ones — restraint often prevents harm.
The goal isn’t to out-smart chemotherapy. It’s to give it the cleanest possible environment to work in.
Sometimes the most powerful 1% improvement is simply not getting in the way.
This layer of the protocol isn’t about certainty or control. It’s about reducing noise, respecting timing, and supporting the body while medicine does its job.