How do you explain a miracle? The short answer is: you don’t.
As you know, if you read these pages, I went to Germany a month ago to have metabolic surgery to cure Type 2 Diabetes. It worked. I no longer have it.
A bona fide miracle.
I’d had the disease for 23 years. I had many of the scary, oft-threatened side effects of the disease. I still have to have more laser surgery from a diabetic bleed in my eye whilst I was away, but none of it matters because the disease is gone.
Now the doctors don’t think it’s a miracle. They think it’s their surgical intervention. On one level, of course it is. They changed my digestive system so that it would no longer be favorable to diabetes but instead would be favorable to no diabetes. Excellent.
I also had to change my brain for this process. In fact, I’m still having to change my brain. Twenty-three years is definitely long enough to form a habit. I was in the habit of having diabetes in my head as well as in my body. We all know that permanent change requires both physical and mental change. I have had to change my mind.
The first time I filled out a form in a doctor’s office which asked me if I had diabetes and I checked no, I was delirious! How cool is that? Interestingly, I told the office manager in that practice that I no longer had diabetes and she called me a liar to my face. Oh, I see, the world isn’t ready for Type 2 Diabetes to be cured. At least some of the world isn’t.
I filed the costs with my insurance company this week. I’m pretty sure they’re going to turn me down and I’ll have a battle on my hands. It’s one I’m willing to fight, not only for myself, but for all people like me who have suffered from this dreadful dis-ease with no cure in sight. Of note, I wrote about this for my Huffington Post column, and they refused to print it! I guess Big Pharma pays too much of their bills.
I first heard about the surgery to cure me three years ago. Why didn’t I go immediately? Because I needed to wrap my brain around the cure.
With this surgery, like with all surgery, there is a recovery process. I still get pretty tired easily. A nap is a welcome addition to my afternoons. I’m learning to eat all over again. The doc says it will be about a year till everything’s back to normal. Or till normal has completely changed.
So I’m showing up. Curious. Talking to folks about a whole new me, and grateful that radiant health is finally one of my options. I spend most of my days awash in gratitude, and one of the things I’m grateful for is life.