Getting Oriented: Deprivation or Emancipation?

On Tuesday I begin a new chapter in my life -- one with a strong focus on health and wellness as a part of my day-to-day existence. This will be a huge shift for me.

Since getting married, I have been much more invested in building a marriage and a family and a good community than I have on making health-centered decisions about how to spend my time or what to eat.

I have spent little time exercising and when I have it has been a sporadic, short-lived attempt to lose some weight. Although nearly all my friends are avid runners or yogis, I have never been inclined to join in their activities, even when they nicely beg. I have eaten what was easy and tasty -- often ordered from a menu. I have spent no time intentionally quieting my mind from the turbo pace of my life.

As a result, I have set myself up as a candidate for heart disease. With a strong family history of cardiac arrest and surgery (my father and both grandfathers had open heart surgery in their early 50s), compulsive bad eating habits, a sedentary lifestyle, and a stressful job, my heart doesn't really stand a chance unless something changes.

I was seriously ill this past autumn, spending 10 days in the hospital with complications with a pulmonary embolism after leg surgery. Although not related to my heart, my sickness gave me a big taste of what it's like to be at the mercy of modern medicine, depend on others to perform basic human functions, and feel terrible. It wasn't pretty.

Together with my husband and parents, I determined, right there in my hospital room, that I could start a new way of healthful living, with their support. My parents offered to pay for any program that I felt would help. I was, by luck, housed on the Cardiac Recovery floor of the Charleston Area Medical Center (CAMC). Across from the foot of my bed, tacked to a wall was a promotional poster for the Dr. Dean Ornish Program for Reversing Heart Disease.

I'd heard about the Ornish Program before, first seeing a "60 Minutes" segment on it years ago. In 2003, I had even called our local Ornish Program at CAMC, only to find its fees were not covered by my health insurance and were too expensive for our family budget. This time, however, my parents were scared for me and were happy to cover the costs. They saw that I was highly motivated.

The folks I've met who have been through Ornish talk consistently about the quick benefits they realized: calmer outlook, healthier bodies, new friends, and a support network that includes highly trained medical professionals. They never complain about having to expel butter, caffeine, and meat from their lives. Instead they brag about the new plant-based recipes they've learned to make. They do speak honestly about how hard it is to make time for the stress-reduction components of their new lifestyle, but all recognize the importance and benefits of it.

As worried as I am about how I will get through that first week deprived of coffee and without the ability to carelessly order take-out, I am incredibly eager to get started. I look forward to being free of days filled only with stress and a body that I no longer trust to run up a flight of stairs or look presentable in a bathing suit. More importantly, I look forward to a longer life with my husband where I will have a better chance to meet our grandchildren ... and maybe great grandchildren.

Journaling is part of the Program and it makes sense for me to do it on-line as that is a format that I find more natural than a private diary. Ultimately, I hope these reflections on my experiences will be helpful to others who are comtemplating a similar journey.