My Story - PART FOUR, I am my Own Health Coach

As I recovered, my mom declined. The cancer wasn’t going away this time and although they had an ever growing list of new and trial treatments the chemo’s side effects were killing her now. She wasn’t going to survive the treatment, never mind the cancer. 

I was and still am so fortunate to have a husband that cares for me like his own life and cared for my mom like she was his mom. Anything she needed he took care of. Her greatest wish was to die at home, in her home, by the lake she loved. My husband made that possible under some very difficult circumstances.

When my mom died I took a month off. A month off thinking, off caring, off working, off everything. I just needed to be still and quiet. But September 1, 2017 I hit the books. In spite of everything I had gone through I just couldn’t believe I was completely out of control. I had to figure out what I could do regardless of what I was told by the medical professionals. They had no answers. And the wrong answers.

As I had gathered my things to leave the hospital after my heart surgery the surgeon had come in to go over some paper work and give us some final instructions.  I asked him, “How did this happen?”“Diabetes. Heredity.” He said flatly. No urgency, no explanation regarding heart disease and diabetes. Nothing. That was it. I stood there as he finished up the business end of our deal and handed me the papers.

“How do I keep this from happening again?” I asked. 

Looking up from his clip board he said, “People do come back.” 

That’s it?! That was an answer? That wasn’t even the question. So there was just no stopping it, he expected me back. I would be back. It was hereditary and I was the carrier of damaged genes destine for more major illness and surgery. Excellent, I thought as we packed up my overnight stuff and I sat in the wheelchair zoning out for the ride to the car. 

But could I believe and live with being a helpless victim waiting for round two? 

I couldn’t. That September I went back to the beginning. I went back to my friend with the “dangerous” diet. The guy who looked twenty years younger than he was, with muscles to spare, who ran up skyscrapers for fun and was never fat a day in his life - how dangerous could this be? 

I had already come pretty close to dying. I was never, in all this time, afraid to die (Check out my Belief blog to find out why) but I gotta tell ya, living crippled after a stroke or being left in a vegetative state did not appeal to me.

I was afraid to tell him I wanted to try his approach. If I did really stroke out, I didn’t want him to feel bad. He was use to answering questions and explaining the science behind various health issues so it wasn’t odd to be talking about this again. He was a researching machine, and always looking for healthier ways to live. I was going to get some answers so I started with him.

On September 1, 2017 I became my own health coach. I became my own researching machine. I was on my own and going to make choices according to what had proof, made sense and worked. I had nothing to lose.

I hopped on the internet and began checking out books at the library. I watched documentaries, scientific presentations, discussions about heart disease, diabetes, and finally about nutrition. I learned for the first time what a macro nutrient was, that there are only three; protein, fat and carbohydrate. I learned about insulin, hormones and food. How had I missed all this information? I was shocked. 

What little I had been told and taught was wrong. Not just a little wrong here and there. Really, really, really, life threateningly wrong. The opposite in fact.

It took four months of studying until I was convinced that this way of eating was the answer. It kept coming up and coming up and the results were irrefutable. It was the key to my health. I just had to believe it.

And do it.

January first was only a few days away when I decided to take the leap. A new year, a new approach to my health. A glimmer of hope. But a pile of fear. January first came and went and I just couldn’t do it.

I got up every day thinking, today is the day I take charge of my life and eat what I know is the best food for my body. But I was scared. I could still hear the words from my last doctors appointment, “That is so dangerous.”

What if I was wrong? What if this is crazy? What if that last surgery saved my life and now I’m throwing it all away?