Today
is my 62nd birthday, which really isn’t noteworthy except that
complications from diabetes almost killed me seven years ago.
Considering all that, I’m thankful for every birthday that comes up.
At this ripe old age, I feel better than I have in decades — certainly, better than any time in my 50s when I was writing editorials for the Idaho Statesman. Viewing old pictures from my mid-30s and early 40s — when I weighted around 235 pounds — I look much better than I did then (it’s amazing what losing 50 pounds can do for appearance). I play quite a bit of golf (almost always walking the course) and I have started to play slew-pitch softball — which I haven’t done since I was 46.
The moral of the story is that diabetes is not a death sentence. The disease can be managed and the effects can be reversed. But it certainly wasn’t easy, and I know enough about this “silent killer” to realize that I can’t take good health for granted.
The mortality rate for diabetes is astounding. Worldwide, 4.6 million people die from this horrible disease every year — which equates to one person dying every seven seconds. Considering the complications — heart attack, stroke, kidney failure, blindness, and amputations – death becomes a welcome relief for many, if not most, of those 4.6 million people.
I can speak with some authority about complications, because I have experienced my share. They include:
At this ripe old age, I feel better than I have in decades — certainly, better than any time in my 50s when I was writing editorials for the Idaho Statesman. Viewing old pictures from my mid-30s and early 40s — when I weighted around 235 pounds — I look much better than I did then (it’s amazing what losing 50 pounds can do for appearance). I play quite a bit of golf (almost always walking the course) and I have started to play slew-pitch softball — which I haven’t done since I was 46.
The moral of the story is that diabetes is not a death sentence. The disease can be managed and the effects can be reversed. But it certainly wasn’t easy, and I know enough about this “silent killer” to realize that I can’t take good health for granted.
The mortality rate for diabetes is astounding. Worldwide, 4.6 million people die from this horrible disease every year — which equates to one person dying every seven seconds. Considering the complications — heart attack, stroke, kidney failure, blindness, and amputations – death becomes a welcome relief for many, if not most, of those 4.6 million people.
I can speak with some authority about complications, because I have experienced my share. They include:
- A toe amputation — a procedure that often leads to more serious amputations for people with diabetes.
- Substantial loss of eyesight, which cost me my career nine years ago. The human resources manager at the Statesman told me to “go home and get well,” and that was one of the best pieces of advice I have ever received.
- Five-way heart-bypass surgery in November of 2004, less than a year after I left the Statesman. During a routine visit to my doctor, I mentioned in passing that I had experienced shortness of breath during workouts on the exercise bike. A few days later, a cardiologist told me I was a prime candidate for keeling over with a heart attack. He estimated I was within six months of dying.
There’s
a happy ending to this story. My heart is as healthy and strong. My
vision has fully recovered and I don’t need glasses, except for reading
(I’ve had procedures and surgeries along the way, but there’s no logical
explanation for this full recovery). My missing toe does not interfere
with my golf game. And … here’s the kicker … the Statesman hired me back
on a part-time basis, which fits perfectly with this “semi-retired”
stage of my life. The limited schedule allows me to spend more time with
Lions Clubs International in promoting diabetes awareness.
Folks have their opinions about the Statesman, both good and bad, but I’d like to say this: People at the Statesman have been on my side every step of the way, and it’s a pleasure for me to work alongside some of my best friends. A special thanks goes to Opinion Page Editor Kevin Richert, a class person who has been a friend and colleague for more than 25 years.
So what caused this dramatic turnaround with my health? I’ve paid more attention to diet and exercise, which is something that anybody diagnosed with diabetes or prediabetes should do. Beyond that, I can’t explain why I feel better at 62 than 32. I thank God for the new me, or maybe I’m just lucky.
Folks have their opinions about the Statesman, both good and bad, but I’d like to say this: People at the Statesman have been on my side every step of the way, and it’s a pleasure for me to work alongside some of my best friends. A special thanks goes to Opinion Page Editor Kevin Richert, a class person who has been a friend and colleague for more than 25 years.
So what caused this dramatic turnaround with my health? I’ve paid more attention to diet and exercise, which is something that anybody diagnosed with diabetes or prediabetes should do. Beyond that, I can’t explain why I feel better at 62 than 32. I thank God for the new me, or maybe I’m just lucky.
Either way, it’s sure nice to be celebrating another birthday.
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