Revised 7/6/2019
I watched my Momma die.
It was not those last moments, it was the years that she died … slowly, and cruelly.
The morning I published this Blog (Oct. 25, 2017) I was awakened by a dream of one of the last hours of Moms time here on earth.
The only thing is, the subject of the dream, was just a reply of an actual event.
It is a awful memory. It is a memory in color. It is a memory I swore I would never give to my children.
I eat the way I do for several reasons. One of those reasons is just pure anger.
I believe a lot of what goes on today in ‘health care’ is actually criminal.
Ok, you wanta start winking your eye, smiling the little smile, and chuckle a bit saying, “… here goes Rayray again with ‘they’ this, and ‘they’ that, and his conspiracy theories about how the American Public is in large part nothing short of livestock, being kept in a feedlot of purposed design so as to provide practice fields for new technology, as well as a means to use equipment so it and techs can be paid for, as well as ‘certain’ lifestyles can be funded…”.
Yeah, I took the Red Pill and sometimes I am awakened at night by nightmares of memories I wish were not true, and I wish they had not occurred to my Momma… and I wish I had not seen them.
I believe every bite of food, or swallow of a liquid I take is either ‘good’ for my nourishment, health, maintenance of my body, or, it is not ‘good’. Along with that, I believe also that every bite or drink I take is wise or foolish.
Ok I am gonna say it… it is really damned selfish or it is cruel to those around you who will have to watch you die a slow awful death because you decided to eat some ‘food’ that was fun to eat, and nothing more.
My dream this morning was watching my Moms leg ‘blow up’ right before my eyes.
Mom had that infection where you had to put on safety shoes, safety garment, gloves, a mask…. basically she was some kind of a bio hazard zone.
The nurses were trying to get her to sit up in a chair, she was crying out in pain, and her lower left leg just, ‘blew open’ like a radiator hose would blow open discharging the fluids.
It suddenly became a quiet scene as everyone instantly moved into another ‘mode’ of action.
The nursing team moved into a professional mode for several obvious reasons, one including what I would call a ‘hazmat emergency’ due to the infection just being propelled over a large area…Mom became strangely quiet, and I just turned into a statue, or at least a statue that moved slowly back so the nurses could do their job.
At that moment, I never dreamed that this memory would come back to awaken me just after midnight, October 25th, 2017.
If I can do anything to prevent my children from ever having to experience events like this, then you can damned sure bet I will do that.
Later that day the Doctor shared with us there was no more drugs, antibiotics, or anything remaining to give to Mom to fight off the infection. He said to us there was a possible surgery that could possibly help, but Mom was not in good enough condition to survive, and more than likely not benefit from surgery at all … yada yada yada …
… or we could stop doing any thing, except keep her out of pain while we let her die.
Minutes later, I leaned close to Moms face and told her what was said, and asked her what she wanted to do, surgery or to just let go, and die …
She told me she wanted to die.
… … …
A number of hours later, communication with Mom had become a grip of her left hand to let you know she was still ‘there’, and was responding. She was no longer opening her eyes, but she would still hold, and squeege your fingers.
The last thing I told her, and that she replied to, with the squeeze of the fingers, was the morning of the day she died. I told her it was ok to go ahead and let go, and go ahead and leave. I told her she needed to feel free to go on, and not worry about staying here any longer. Later that afternoon, she ‘left us’.
*******
So often people look at what I eat and laugh. They think I am crazy, or extreme.
It is amazing that I don’t go ballistic on them.
Extreme is cutting your chest open, exposing the heart, sewing polluted veins they can harvest from your legs over the heart so as to BY PASS the plugged up arteries already there.
Extreme?
What about the percentages of stent placements that have to be repeated as well as By Pass Surgeries? What is the true ‘success rate’ of stent placement anyway?
Extreme?
What about the Statin Cholesterol Drugs they put you on that have maybe as good of a success rate as eating a teaspoon of fresh ground Flax Seed each day, or four Brazil nuts once a month?
Bull Shit.
Go to YouTube and watch Jeff Novick explain “Squaring The Curve” at 54:30. https://youtu.be/0CdwWliv7Hg
That is how I want to die. This typical drawn out way of sharing the suffering is bull shit. I hope to just square that event. Screw the curve. Screw the shared suffering.
So, there is the dream. There is the anger. There are the tears.
Every time I take another bite of my typical ‘extreme’ Collard, Turnip, Mustard Greens, Kale, Spinach, fresh ground Flax Seed, Gunpowder Green Tea, Dried Hibiscus Leaves/Tea, Powdered or Fresh Ginger, Cinnamon Powder, Cocoa Powder, Walnuts, Almonds, uncooked Old Fashioned Oat Flakes, chunked fresh Fruit, home cooked beans and rice, steamed potatoes and all prepared with NO SALT NO OIL NO SUGAR added. (and I mean to say NO salts, No Oils [NONE!] NO Sugar)…
be sure you hear me say this…
*** each bite is a rage against the establishment that places profits before health.
*** each bite is a vote against false science that says ‘Man’ is smarter than God.
*** each bite is a trust in Whole Foods, Plants, Whole Grains, Beans and Legumes.
*** each bite is ‘shooting the bird’ at fad diets, and social media ‘Newspeak’ that once is more interested in selling something rather than telling the truth about Nutrition.
*** each bite is also a pleasure because I am enjoying the results of a Whole Food Plant Based Lifestyle, and the FOOD tastes great, and I never go hungry.
*** each bite is a promise to family, friends, and myself… you will NOT be given memories of a horrible slow death by what I ate, or did not eat. I will not contribute to the slow death by shitty food choices.
each bite is a declaration that I COUNT NO CALORIES! NO PROTEIN IS MEASURED! NO CARBS ARE FEARED!
oldmanskinandbones.com
*******
That is how I ended, and published that Blog 10/25/2017.
I wipe tears again this afternoon 7/6/2019.
I am proud to say I am still #wfpbno these years later.
The pain of watching Dad die for years with colon cancer, and then Mom with … a lot of Disease and Suffering, and knowing now, most if not all of that was avoidable.
I have three children and two step sons. I have four Grand Children and three step Grand Children. I have Great Grand Children. I have lots of friends and extended family.
I assure all of them they will never see me live a lifestyle that is promoting Chronic Diseases, and a chosen diminishing of physical and mental abilities that Society has been tricked into believing is ‘just what happens when you get older’.
They will see me eat foods that Nourish and Fuel my body so that I can enjoy and LIVE life to the fullest and then die ‘in the blink of an eye’.
I plan ‘to go’ right in the middle of living ….
I do not plan to contribute to the slow, degrading decline as a airplane that has lost its engines, and then is drawn to the final crash because altitude is lost every second till impact.
Now I know, good and well, that I cannot control the moment of my death, but I can control the moments I live.