Heart-eries

That pain in my chest is more than just anxiety

I’ve touched on this in the past. But boy howdy, I’m getting a wake-up call again.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write about it. As you may or may not have noticed, I’ve been pretty quiet as of late. There’s been a lot going on, most of it wonderful, if stressful, but I just haven’t felt that overwhelming compunction to share my every thought and movement with the world at large. That seems to only come when I am rubbed raw and have nowhere else to take my pain.

So here I am. Back. My spirit and my body chafed and blistered. Still with all my tabs open.

We recently sold our home in Moriches, and were able, for the first time ever, to pocket some substantial jang. So I gave myself a little present, actually, a couple of them.

I had a full blood work-up through Function Health (Dr. Mark Hyman’s baby) — two, actually, because that’s how they roll.

I had a full body MRI through Prenuvo in New York City.

Now, why the hell would someone do something like that? Isn’t that just asking for trouble? Well, yes. But I also am going to be spending the majority of my time in Costa Rica now and forewarned is forearmed, as they say.

Haven’t gotten my MRI results back yet, but the bloodwork just solidifies what I already knew: I have the early stages of cardiovascular disease.

In the past year I touched on this (and have gone back through my old posts and released the paywall from those posts, so feel free to catch up if you feel so inclined, especially with Born Dying), but now it’s right up in my grille — that tightness in my chest isn’t just anxiety.

I’m not going to bore you with a bunch of numbers, ever, but here’s just one: my calcium score (meaning the plaque build up in the arteries around my heart — my hearteries), which is supposed to be 0, with a “let’s-get-you-to-the-hospital-now” of about 299, is 170.

And I feel it. I feel that elephant sitting on my chest. No pain radiating down my arm, but constriction around my heart. Like I’m wearing a bra that’s too tight. Even when I’m braless.

After talking to Dr. Druz of Holistic Heart Centers last June, who recommended I take 5 mg of statin twice a week — sort of a homeopathic dose, rather than the 10 mg a day that is usually prescribed as a starting amount — I am finally doing it.

But here’s the thing of it. We are told that once you have plaque in your hearteries, it’s irreversible. You can only prevent it from increasing.

I call bullshit.

We are relying on this cholesterol/heart disease correlation based on a 1957 study. One study. One.

Even the American Heart Association has backed up a bit, saying in 2019: “Findings from observational studies have not generally supported an association between dietary cholesterol and CVD risk.” (Full article here.) Do you hear me? Read that again.

And yet millions of people take statins to lower their cholesterol, to decrease their chance of heart disease. But is that really what’s making the difference, or is it the lifestyle changes of cutting down on alcohol, quitting smoking, exercising more, and eating healthier? Is it really the cholesterol that clogs our veins, or is it insulin resistance (too much sugar)?

I’m betting on the latter. And I’m betting on it with my life.

So today is Day One of a new road for me. Yeah, I eat basically healthy, and I do some yoga, and I occasionally take a stroll, but I am in no way a very healthy person. I may project that, but it’s all smoke and mirrors, folks.

I see those peeps, just like you do. The glow-y, healthy, “Mmmm, I’m going to reward myself with this square of dark chocolate” people. Fuck. Them. I like to stop at the gas station convenience store and load up on potato chips, Oreos, and Skittles. I could probably live on that for a few weeks, if truth be told.

This is a new direction for me, a major shift to a Mediterranean diet on steroids, with the only sugar in my daily foods coming from fruit.

I promise you, in three months, when I go back for a calcium score test, they are going to be amazed. They are going to say, “What did you do?” It’s going to be lower.

I hope you follow along with me, and maybe recommit to your own health as well.

We can do this.

Today’s breakfast — fava bean puree drenched in organic extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice picked from my lemon tree, with organic yellow peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, avocado, and a garlic/parsley pesto garnish.