I'll try to keep this short.
In early February of 2002 I had knee surgery and developed a blood clot in the calf below that knee. It broke lose and lodged in my lungs giving me a bilateral pulmonary embolism. I literally dropped over dead at work. Luckily, I worked at trauma hospital and they were able to revive me with a menagerie of drugs including TPA (clot buster) and CPR-including being defibrillated twice while I was conscious! Horrific pain right there. I was then transported to the Intensive Care Unit for an 18 day visit. I weighed 334lb at the time.
That story itself should have been enough to motivate me but it wasn't, it was something way more stupid.
Of course I knew most of the ICU staff and was friends with a number of them. One evening a nurse whom I was friendly with had to wipe my rear end for me because I couldn't reach as I wasn't allowed out of bed, IV lines and wires taped to my chest and mostly I was too damn fat! I felt horrible for her and I wanted a stroke to take me out right then and there. Thankfully, she was a trooper and friend and literally thought nothing of it as she was a true professional as well. To this day, I redden with embarrassment when I talk to her and she gives me good-natured grief. Minutes after that humiliation I decided I'd change my life and get healthy when I got home. I never wanted to be that helpless or be a patient ever again.
I got home on the 22nd hooked to a bottle of oxygen, a shiny new CPAP machine ( they noticed I had sleep apnea during my stay) and an old man cane. The unopened can of chewing tobacco was still there waiting for me on the counter. I hadn't had a dip since the ER nurse had scooped the last one out of my lip while they were trying to get a heart rhythm back. I put a big fat dip in my lip, hobbled to the back deck and threw the can over the fence into the field behind the house. I never touched the stuff again after doing it for 21 years. That was hard, real hard but it was something I wanted to do.
I have friend who'd lost a bunch of weight doing the Atkins low carb diet. He gave me the book while recovering and I decided I'd try it after the pulmonologist decided I didn't need bottled oxygen anymore. I shuffled into his office after a week at home and he took me off the stuff. I asked him when I could stop using the CPAP machine. He stopped looking at the images of my lungs and told me, "you are way too fat and you will always need the machine if you remain so fat." That stung and I truly wanted to dot his eye and maybe go key his BMW but I knew he was right and a few hours later began to appreciate his brutal honesty. I appreciate it to this day and have told him so. He tells me most patients are not so appreciative. Too bad.
On March 1st 2002, I went all in on the Atkins diet, no carbs for 2 weeks as induction. I dropped 16lb (mostly water) in that 2 weeks and decided to stick with the induction phase which is limiting carbohydrates to under 20gm per day. That's a tough go for a carb addict like myself. No pizza, pasta, potatoes, bread, candy, Pepsi, beer, beans, Doritos...fricken Doritos! I used to take a bag of those, dump a bunch of tabasco in the bag, shake it up then play Air Warrior until gone. I was done with all of it. I started gorging on salami, cheeses, eggs, bacon....lots of bacon, beef and canned tuna. I lost 33 pounds that first month. I began gorging less and less as protein and fat are very satiating. I'd get full pretty fast eating this way-unlike carbs where I'd never get full. There was always room for a 2nd or third helping and always room for desert. anyhow I was down to just eating until I was full before work and eating until full when I got home from my 12 hour shift.
I stuck with it and started exercising. I bought a cheap stationary bike and rode it daily. It had an odometer on it and I would try to go further each day. I rode it until it disintegrated under me one day so I bought a beefy mountain bike and started riding outside. I taco'd the rims pretty quick going off curbs with my still pretty heavy wide body but the hook was set for my current addiction to cycling. The weight was still plummeting and people were noticing. My scrubs were looser fitting and they no longer looked like over-stuffed sausage casings. My shoes kept getting too wide for my feet, I didn't need to wear a shirt under scrubs to absorb sweat anymore. I even gladly trotted up and down the stairs of the 6-story hospital on my lunch breaks. The elevators were glad to see me go. I even got off of CPAP after 11 months! I got home, grabbed the machine and took it to the garage. I proceeded to smash it with a sledge and it felt great but was a dumb move as I could have sold it for a nice amount.
Smash cut to late May of 2004, I was down 120lb. I was still not eating carbs and now was a member of a local cycling club doing group rides and climbing all the high mountain passes of California and Nevada. I eventually got down to 158lb at one point. That's more than half my original weight.
All the while, my high cholesterol, high blood pressure, high resting heart rate, triglycerides....all the bad ones were long gone and replaced with good numbers. Heartburn? Gone. Aches and pains from inflammation? Gone. Depression Gone? Brain fog? Gone. All of this started happening within weeks after cutting carbs out.
I'm still a carbohydrate addict so I don't eat them. Every once in a while, I'd try to reintroduce them to my diet but the wheels would come off in short order. I guess for me it's like a heroin addict staying clean except Saturdays and holidays....It just ain't gonna work.
I occasionally go have Mexican or Chinese food with my wife. She has no problems with food and it's nice taking her out for things like that. I kinda eat around the beans, rice and whatnot. I'll have the occasional margarita of course.
Last October a drunk driver T-boned my father and his wife at over 100mph, killing them both instantly. I went off the rails a bit. He had just fully recovered from prostate cancer and was in incredibly good health for an 80yr old. He was still rotating the tires on his truck by himself and climbing on the roof of his house to adjust his TV antenna in the days before he died. One of the last conversations I had with him he said "it was never too late to feel good again" while referring to his cancer free proclamation from his Urologist. I took that to heart and jumped right back on my new ways.
It's never too late to feel good again.
