Sally Bee - The Recipe for Life - Healthy eating for real people

So life continued like this for a while and I suppose for that time I accepted that this was as good as it was going to get. Then I was lucky enough to reach a tipping point, which changed my life again, forever. I had just reached the first-year anniversary of my heart attacks and was due at one of my regular check-ups with my cardiologist. He told me that I needed to have a special scan to detect a possible problem in my aorta. (Because my main heart artery had dissected from top to bottom, it was thought that this dissection might have started above, in my aorta, causing a life-threatening aneurism.) This was a potential problem all along apparently, but as nobody imagined I would survive a year, it seemed unnecessary to worry me further. But as I had reached this point, there was a strange urgency to deal with the problem. They were going to pull a team together to perform the scan in three weeks time and, if they found the aneurism, I would have two choices: either live with it until it killed me, or operate, without great chances of survival. Not the best choices in the world. I felt like I’d been given another date that I might die. During the three weeks leading up to my scan, I was incredibly agitated and felt I had to keep myself busy. When I wasn’t crying, I was making arrangements, again, ‘just in case’. I got all the children’s clothes organised for the following season and gave my girlfriends instructions on where to buy their clothes if I wasn’t around. I taught Dogan how to plait my daughter’s hair, how to measure out the children’s medicine and sign up at school for parents’ evening appointments. I spoke to his friends and told them not to let him turn to the bottle if anything happened to me–and he wasn’t allowed to get involved with any big-boobed blondes who weren’t right for my children! Dark days passed. The day of my scan dawned and, for the first time in three weeks, I was calm–just like the weather. You see the night before I had realised something that blew my mind. I realised that I had got myself into such a state that I was more afraid of living than I was of dying.

All this time I had been looking back and not forwards. I had been trying to come to terms with what had happened to me and was just surviving, not living. Now I was facing the day that my life might end and, it sounds crazy, but it was almost a relief. I suddenly realised that I just couldn’t do this any more. I couldn’t continue to live with this constant fear. I didn’t want to live if I was afraid of life. I wasn’t being the mummy I wanted to be to my children, I certainly wasn’t the wife that my husband had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. Death didn’t seem as scary as a life of fear at this point.

I thought long and hard about my life, or lack of it, and then thought back to the Sally who had demanded her hair got washed while being cared for in a high-dependency unit, and the Sally who made sure she had lipstick on even when she was on the critical list. I felt my blood run cold and my goosebumps jump. OK, if today was the day my life ended, then so be it. Bring it on! I was ready. If I had to die today, then that was my fate. But if there was any chance that I didn’t have this horrible problem in my aorta, then look out world because I was going to get back up and kick its ass! I had suffered a fright, many people do, but I was lucky that I was still here and still breathing. At that moment I made a pact with myself that, if I could get through today, I was going to start living again. But this life had to be one without fear–or I wasn’t interested. I allowed myself to imagine for a moment for that I had a future. I looked forwards and imagined that I did survive another ten, twenty, thirty or even forty years. And do you know what the most frightening part of that daydream was? The scariest part of my future was not living with the fear of dying but living while being afraid to live.

You may have gathered, simply by the fact that I am able to write this book, that I didn’t have an aneurism in my aorta. The news came back that half my heart muscle was damaged and in failure, but the other half was somehow miraculously compensating. The doctors still couldn’t tell me that I’d be OK, but that didn’t matter any more because I now believed that I had a future and the quality of it was in my hands. I was back in the driving seat. It was still scary, if I’m honest, especially for my family, but it was my life and I wasn’t going to waste another moment.

CHOOSING LIFE

So moving along five years, I’m still out there living my life and enjoying every minute. I’m as energetic as I can be, some days more than others. I still have to rest and take good care of myself all the time but this has become normal and I think I absorb it pretty well now. I am on an aggressive drug regime (and will be for the rest of my life), which, in turn, can affect my kidneys and liver but, so far, my body is coping really well with everything I throw at it. I can get some accusing looks sometimes when I bounce out of my car all colourful and glowy and put my blue disabled badge in the window. I sometimes feel that people would be happier if they saw me limping to be worthy of my blue badge–but the reality is, I must never put myself in a position where I am lifting heavy objects, including shopping, or struggling a distance if I am suffering from fatigue. So my blue badge is a must, as I would never want to put myself in a dangerous position, especially for the sake of a couple of shopping bags!

My cardiologists are still happily amazed with my progress and, considering the damage my heart has suffered, my power output is fantastic. They cannot explain why I have recovered so well. I can I put everything down to the food that I eat and the way that I move.

A HEALTHY LIFESTYLE–YOUR BEST INSURANCE POLICY

So how can my experience help you? Well, whether you are a heart patient or not, the truth is that these days, generally, our diets and lifestyles are not helpful in maintaining a healthy heart. My heart attacks were caused by a very rare condition, which none of you should have to worry about, but the results are the same as for anyone who has suffered a heart event: compromised heart health; ongoing medication; and the need and desire to maintain good health for as long as possible into the future. I am not a trained medical nutritionist so I would recommend that, if you have any health issues or concerns, you make an appointment with your GP who will be able to direct you to the correct information for your particular condition. If you are lucky enough to be in good health just now, it is vitally important not to waste your opportunity of securing ongoing good health for your future. You are coming from a great starting point but still, you must not underestimate the potential for problems.

We eat for enjoyment but the No. 1 reason we eat is to nourish ourselves and take care of ourselves…let’s do it well.

I survived my heart attacks because I had a good insurance policy–not financial but physical. Beforehand I had taken regular exercise, I had eaten a healthy diet, I didn’t smoke, drink or take drugs. And living a healthy lifestyle is not only good for your heart, it will help guard against other diseases, including some cancers and, as if that wasn’t benefit enough, living a healthy lifestyle will make you feel happier and look younger, too.