A Fate Worse Than Death

I've always thought that somewhere out there is a Mack truck with my name on it. But then I figured out that since my name is not Mack, I'm probably all right.

The other day we celebrated the First Day of Ridvan with our friends Jay and Kristina. Jay is a physician and Kristina teaches nutrition. In the last few months, I guess, they have adopted the Vegan style of eating: no foods which come from animal sources. A terrible thing happened to me when I listened to them--I came to recognize that nutritionally, no good comes from eating foods whose source is animals. Not just meat and fish, but dairy products. My mind says, Yes! My emotions say, Help!

I just knew this is the truth.

Lately I've come to realize that there is a truck headed straight for me, whether it hits tomorrow or in twenty years: the name on this truck is Heart Attack or Stroke. The way my diet has been all my life, this is a fact. I see people stricken this way every day.

A heart attack or stroke is okay if it kills me. But it won't kill me. It will ravage my life. It will steal my ability to swallow thin liquids without breathing them, or to eat foods with a normal texture [see how I zero in on the important thing, food?] It will rob me of my sight, my memory, my mobility.

The comfort foods I am attached to seem to all involve cheese, butter, meat, eggs, and sugar. That animal fat and low-density cholesterol isn't comforting, it's scary. Nevertheless, I'm terrified to cross that line. I'm abandoning my food friends.

Kristina says that it's easier for people to change their religion than to change their diet.

I'm becoming a Pagan Vegan.

My fear is that I will not be able to find anything to eat. It feels like jumping off a cliff. It feels like wandering out into the wilderness with no provisions. Wandering out into the wilderness to fight dragons with several weird, short bearded guys in hoods, and forgetting my pocket handkerchief. No, wait, that's that other story.

Wish me luck. And health. Pray for me.