I have been on a most amazing health journey this past year,
one that has magnified for me the beauty of all that has been given to us on
God’s green earth, one that has deepened and strengthened my faith, and one
that has brought home the realization that I really do have a most amazing
family.
In 2012 I was far enough into my discoveries about natural
food and healing that I studied for a year with the Institute of Integrative
Nutrition (IIN) out of New York City. Throughout that year and beyond, I tried new
foods and new ways of eating with an emphasis on fresh, whole, dark and raw. For
a time, I was careful to honor the temple of my body and to only feed it real
food. I felt marvelous and loved that I could feel my body saying “Thank you”
each time I fed it properly. A couple of years later my life was entwined with
one who had too long been on the Standard American Diet (S.A.D.) for me to make
a convert of her, and hanging out continuously with her for the better part of
a year drew me back into some of my old “stinkin’ thinkin’” as it applies to
that SAD lifestyle. I rationalized: she’d been eating this way for the better
part of eight decades, and was still going strong—although, admittedly, her
health was failing—so I’m sure it won’t hurt to eat with her for a time.
Fast forward to 2016 when my own health was deteriorating
from within and, in my pigheadedness, I failed to acknowledge the gravity of
the change. Over the summer, I even returned to a now-ancient pastime for me,
that of indulging in concentrated sugar, by eating those Smarties candies, one
little disc at a time, while commuting. Beyond knowing that for me sugar
triggers migraine headaches, I remember a few afternoons tooling along the back
roads of Middle Tennessee and thinking, “Gee, it’s a good thing I don’t have
cancer because sugar feeds cancer and that’s what I’m eating.”
In the fall, I was diagnosed with an ovarian cyst that was
larger than most might imagine. I praised and thanked God for having added this
side-track to my life journey. Unsure of where it might be leading, I was
resolute in my faith that all would be well and would progress according to His
plans. Facing the possibility of inpatient surgery and a hospital stay without
having insurance coverage for either, I refused to worry. Certainly, I did
attempt to delay treatment until such a time when hospitalization insurance
could take effect, but when circumstances lead me to treatment sooner, I failed
to worry about the cost. Having cancer pushed my sister and her husband into bankruptcy
a few years back and I had no intention of going that route. I would pay as I
was able, perhaps just a few dollars each month, but still the intent to pay
would be unmistakable.
As we enter the year 2017, I am again striving to eat and
live consciously and healthfully, and I am feeling better than I have in years.
Indeed, shedding that cyst caused me to drop 30 pounds overnight. Literally.
Even my gynecological oncologist, with his decades of experience, was
impressed—coming to see me the next morning to report that the cyst had grown
to 28 pounds and that they had drawn off a full 3 liters of fluid.
God treated me with loving care. Although I had a vertical
incision measuring over a foot in length, I experienced no real pain. I would
admit to acute discomfort and accept ibuprophen, but I was through with
morphine and opiates. Thirty years earlier I experienced more than my fair
share of abdominal surgeries, all for “female troubles,” and had learned just
how huge a difference having a skilled surgeon means to one’s recovery process
and the pain that can accompany it. The more movement within the abdominal
cavity, the more pain I could expect afterwards. With such a sizeable growth,
the surgery could not be completed laparoscopically and I was prepared for a
level of pain which I was no eager to experience. The lack of pain was just
another of God’s many gifts—and I thank Zee.[1]
Entering 2017 I feel better than I have felt in years. I can
move and breathe with ease. My God is so good.
Blessings,
Cynthia
02 January
2017
[1] At
this time in history, when American society is coming to recognize the
existence of more than two genders and writers around the globe are including
their preferred pronouns as part of their signature blocks, I must acknowledge
that my omniscient Savior cannot be limited in gender. As such, rather than
using the gendered pronouns Him or Her, I choose Zee, a genderless alternative
pronoun, to designate my Savior.
