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A mile a day, that's all I
do. Just me and my treadmill. Thirty minutes is the limit
that my feet will take me if I plan to walk another day.
Just one step in front of the other. Sometimes it seems
like forever, but I know it's just a step at a time.
I stood on the scales last
spring, and there it was, the number that I was dreading,
196 pounds. How could that be? I had spent my youth making
certain that I was neither too thin nor too heavy, but there
I was nearly fifty-eight years old, and I was becoming my
grandmother. I was desperately ill with another asthma
attack. I was gasping my way through the worst respiratory
infection of my life. My diabetes was shooting through the
roof, and the prednisone that I was on simply made my
glucose levels higher. I had no appetite, but I managed to
get down a little food from time to time. My doctor finally
placed me on a powerful antibiotic, then he quit his
practice. I had no doctor, and by this time, I was getting
mighty suspicious of doctors in general.
A diabetic asthmatic lives
within a curtain of fear. Very high blood sugar levels can
cause a number of life threatening conditions including
blindness, kidney failure, coma, and even death. Diabetics
are six times more likely to die of the flu. Over five
thousand asthmatics die every year. I could not get these
things out of my mind, and my panic made my flesh crawl. To
top it off, I stayed on the couch and spent my nights awake
and switching channels in T.V. hell. Every morning my
husband checked on me to make certain that I was still
breathing. My husband's compassion and gentleness was
nothing short of amazing to me.
I know that I'm blessed. I
have wonderful children. My daughter Helen stayed on the
phone until she found me a good doctor. My daughter Jenny
stayed up with me far into the night, until I fell into a
fitful sleep. I began to recover slowly. As soon as I was
well enough, my husband bought me a simple motorized
treadmill, so that I could walk indoors.
I finally was able to be seen
by my new doctor, and according to her scale I had dropped
nine pounds, simply because I had been unable to eat. I
realized that it was possible for even this diabetic to lose
weight; however I was unwilling to continue on a starvation
diet. I'm Southern. I love food! However, I love my life
more, so I began where I was. Weak and breathless, I began
a daily walk on the treadmill.
The first week I worked my
way up to five minutes. It took me weeks to reach a
sustained fifteen minutes. I stayed at that level for a
month. My arthritis made every step a painful task. My
feet would often give out on me, but I stayed with it.
Slowly my stamina improved; so did my breathing. After
consulting with my doctor, I chose a high protein/low carb
diet, and I stuck to it. In a few months, I was off of my
diabetes medicine, and I had lost another eleven pounds.
I walked my way up to a
mile. As I lost weight, my feet hurt less, and my failing
immune system began to improve. I stayed with that mile
every day, one step at a time, one day at a time, and I've
been walking nearly every day for over a year. I've lost
nearly forty pounds, and I'm still losing. I don't weigh
myself, except on my doctor's scale, and I don't count
calories. I eat low carb foods.
It's not been easy. I miss
brownies and donuts (especially Krispy Kreme). The holidays
are hard, but not impossible. I lost three pounds between
Thanksgiving and Christmas, in 2004. I've developed
high-protein recipes. I use Splenda, instead of sugar. I
use roasted defatted soy flour, oat flour, powdered gluten
(the protein in wheat), and ground nuts and seeds. I've
developed recipes for many of the things I love, muffins,
pancakes, and, by golly, even donuts. I've learned the hard
way, just how much the wrong carbohydrates will hurt me.
Once I learn that a food elevates my blood sugar, I never
eat it again. I test my blood sugar often. I've learned
that a slice of whole grain bread can double my blood sugar
levels in an hour. The cost to my health makes even
favorite foods just not worth the risk.
What keeps me going?
Prayer. Lots of it. One day I realized that this body of
mine, no matter how imperfect, is a gift of God. How is it
honoring Him, if I am not taking care of the gift He has
given me? I never expected a greater reward than simply
being obedient and losing a few pounds. However, God has
been generous. For the first time in fifteen years, my body
is fighting off infection. Scratches and bruises, that used
to take weeks to heal, are gone in a few days.
Yes, I'm slimmer, but more
than that, my immune system is beginning a rebirth. I take
my vitamins every day, and I keep walking, a step at a
time. My diabetes has not disappeared. I'm still a
diabetic and an asthmatic; however I am trusting in God and
taking charge of my life. It's a journey. A step at a
time. A day at a time. Each time I refuse to eat what will
harm me, I get stronger in my purpose.
Everything in life is a
journey. Don't we all make choices, a step at a time? Don't
we choose to love or not; to forgive or not; to laugh or
not; to be faithful or not; to give up or keep going? Life
is a lot like my treadmill. A day at a time. Or my diet.
Careful food choices, a bite at a time. A mile a day. One
step at a time. I'm certain that God is worth it. I'm
worth it too, and so are the ones who love me.
Bio:
Jaye Lewis is an award
winning writer and contributing author to the Chicken Soup
for the Soul series. Jaye lives in the mountains of
Virginia with her family. Her book, Entertaining Angels, is
being re-edited and will include this story. Visit Jaye's
website at
www.entertainingangels.org Email Jaye at jayelewis@comcast.net |
