Fiery Grandma's Journey To Hell And Back
From near death to turning back the clock on aging
Setting the stage for disaster
It all started more than nineteen years ago when my health spiraled to the near breaking point. Fast food, long hours and not enough rest added to the highly esteemed role of playing Super Woman that almost killed me.
As a working woman with a growing family I wanted it all and was willing to do whatever I had to do to get it. Not only that, I wanted that, whatever that was, for my kids, too. Signing them up for every sport known to our community would keep them focused and out of trouble. What I did not consider was what it was about to do to me, my body, mind and soul.
The demands placed on me as a supervisor at my job were intensified by my overly paranoid boss. Afraid of this young, up and coming assistant she tried to sabotage every effort I ever made with our staff. It was during this time that our second child was born prematurely…due to stress.
Fast forward a few years while compounding that stress with yet more responsibility and tasks to do my breaking point found release when I woke one night in extreme pain. Rushing to the doctor's office they took one look at me and wheeled me next door to the operating room. An emergency gall bladder operation removed the disintegrated internal organ that was dead.
I had been so busy with life, work and my family I had not noticed I was not feeling well. Has that ever happened to you? After my recovery, life returned to what I recognized as normal. Up early and home late after the many soccer, softball and volleyball games we managed to do laundry, clean the house and get the homework done.
The big life change begins
Almost overnight my moods started to change. I was usually a happy camper, laughing and having a good time in life. However, I had gained more than 80 pounds, my face looked like a war zone and I felt like a teenager with raging acne. I stopped wearing makeup as it agitated my skin. I looked like some character in a back woods dime-store novel.
My performance at work, home and my relationships plummeted. Just trying to maintain some level of sanity was about all I could manage by this time in my life. Chronic sickness plagued my overtired, over weight body. Sinus infections, asthma, migraine headaches were weekly occurrences in our household.
My doctor was not much help. To tell the truth I think he thought I was crazy. Antibiotics and meds were his solution to quiet my ongoing phone calls. I would later discover that his actions and recommendations helped push me over the edge. A little tip girls…do not quit telling someone about your problems. Keep looking for someone to help you before you do what I did.
For five years I battled with chronic weight gain, those weekly migraines and a husband who thought it was all in my head. The final blow and icing on the cake came when my monthly cycles became so intense I thought I would bleed to death.
I had started my period at age eleven, back when the normal age range was somewhere in high school. I was the odd duck out and developed breasts way before the other girls, too. Hair began to grow on my pubic area and legs and underarms when the other girls were simply playing pretend. It just was not fair.
Now, as I entered pre-menopause I found myself thinking it was not fair…I was only thirty-five years young. However, no one listened to me. If you add up all of the factors such as stress at work, not eating right, too many antibiotics and meds, not enough sleep and no psychological support that is a recipe for disaster and I was headed for one.
Enough is enough
My doctor’s recommendation for my ten week periods was to perform a procedure called a DNC. This procedure is to stop the bleeding and shock your system into some sort of normalcy. They clean you out, sort of searing the area to stop the bleeding. It was painful and did not work. I put up with the procedure three times before finally jerking the doctor up by the necktie to me while in the stirrups. I was in so much pain and he was so condescending that I snapped. Have you ever seen that cartoon where the cat is frazzled holding a gun? That was me at that very moment.
Feeling all alone and very depressed it was that night that I tried to end it all. My marriage was falling apart. I hated my job and the people I worked with. I felt like an utter failure with my kids and husband. I just could not cope any longer. Leaving the house to be alone to my thoughts I headed the car straight for an oak tree.
At that point in my life I was neither a spiritual person nor attending any church. Did I believe in God? Yes, however I was not living according to what the good book says. Trying to end my life was not the answer, but now I understood how women worldwide must feel…I was right there, too.
The angels were watching and had their hands on my car because I saw in my mirror two little angels…my two children. They were crying and told me, “Momma, don’t leave us, we love and need you so much”. Jerking the wheel back to the road I took my foot off of the accelerator and pulled to the side of the road.
I must have sat there crying for hours. The realization hit me that this was not the answer. I was not crazy, it was a physical problem and the doctors were wrong. I had to find an answer fast, if not for me, for my family.
Returning home I composed myself as any mother, wife and self-respecting woman does and life resumed. I later found my answer in the most unsuspecting place…at lunch with my best friend.
That answer has led my life back to optimal health. I have learned how to turn back the clock on aging, disease and more. My journey has not been easy, but definitely it has been worth it. I thank my girl friend all the time for the new lease on life she provided by being a good friend and sharing that life saving information.
Today I have whizzed through that menopause without a night sweat one. No menopausal symptoms have even crossed my doorstep and I am fervently sharing that there is a natural solution with all of my boomer friends who want relief from that nastiness, too.
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