Chapter 1. Going Down

We came to the United States from Russia ten years ago when I was invited by the Community College of Denver to teach students about Russian president Gorbachev and Perestroika. At first, the cultural shock was great. I remember we felt inspired and hopeless at the same time. When I saw signs on the street benches that read, "rent a bench!" I wrote to my mother, "life here is very expensive. Even to sleep on a bench people have to pay rent." On our arrival from Russia, I was not very fat. I was 180 pounds, a "normal" Russian woman. When I visited my very first American supermarket and saw all those multi-colored boxes, I told my husband that I wanted to try them all! And I think I did. In two short years, I gained 100 pounds.

From that day in the first supermarket, I noticed that many foods in the boxes were not as tasty as I had expected. While still in Russia, I saw "Dunkin Donuts" in so many movies that I was anxious to try them. When I tried one, I couldn't understand why in the world anyone would like Dunkin Donuts. I had to try them three times to become completely addicted. Then I began to wonder why I didn't like them before.

Then things got even worse. We had opened six very successful businesses, become rich, bought a big house, and slept on a huge, fancy, very soft bed. We went out every night to every fancy or exotic restaurant in Denver and the suburbs.

From that kind of "full" life (I'd rather say fool life), I developed serious health problems. My left arm numbed every night. My veins were popping out. I developed persistent arrhythmia, which is an unsteady heart beat. At the same time, my father in Russia had his second heart attack. When I talked with him on the phone, he described his symptoms. they matched mine so closely that from that moment I never knew if I would awaken the next morning.

My doctor told me that I had to lose weight. I signed up for a life membership at a health club but never seemed to find time to go there again. I subscribed to Weight Watchers magazine and had wonderful fantasies while reading it. Then I went to the slim-fast workshop. Soon I signed up for another popular weight-loss program. I got an itchy rash from eating their special food, but I didn't lose a single ounce.

As a result of all these failures and wishful thinking, I began to fall into a deep depression.

Soon I was doubting the very reason for continuing to live. I considered my life finished and any changes seemed impossible. I gave up. I was going down.

Valya: I knew about my mother's terrible heart condition and my father's arthritis. I also knew that I had asthma, but I thought asthma was normal, just fine.

Sergei: I remember the past. My mother was always so tired. She never took us places. Instead, she'd hire somebody to take us to a movie, or to the park.

My sister and I were bored and were constantly chewing something. I started to gain weight. All summer long I would sit on our Expensive Lazy Boy couch and think of a good activity with which to entertain myself. We had constant mood swings (especially me) and one moment I'd crush some toys or old machinery with rocks or a hammer. The next minute I would be too tired and lazy to walk from the couch to the door to let my dog out. When I was about nine years old, I started noticing disturbing changes in my health. After I gorged myself one Halloween on a pillowcase of candy, my mother found me unconscious on the bathroom floor. My mom rushed me to the doctor, who told us that I had incurable juvenile diabetes, and that I had to go on insulin immediately. He said I would have to give myself shots for the rest of my life and there was nothing more he could do. My mom and I were shocked. Mother decided to go home and "think about it."

As we were leaving the doctor's office, rivers of tears poured from mom's eyes. She cried all that night, and when I was leaving for school she was still sitting in the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

Valya: One day I came home from school and found my mommy in tears. I learned that Sergei had juvenile diabetes. "What's that?" I asked. She told me it was an incurable disease which would cause him to lose his eyesight, and kidneys. Later he wouldn't be able to use his legs and he'd possibly die in a coma. He would have to give himself shots daily. After this conversation, I had thoughts that Sergei might die! My brother, die!

Victoria: When I learned about Sergei's diabetes, it awoke in me my mother's instinct, which appeared to be stronger than my depression and disease. It saved his life, and mine too. When I heard the diagnosis "juvenile diabetes," I was so shocked and horrified that I lost my appetite for a couple of days. I remember thinking, "God! Why is this happening to my son? That filled me with self-pity and increased my suffering. Deep inside I felt very strongly that to put Sergei on insulin would be completely wrong. I decided to do some research.

Since I had studied to be a medical nurse years ago in Russia, I decided to buy medical books. I read that blindness and kidney failure could occur as a result of using insulin, not from diabetes itself. Throughout all of these books there were many statements that there is not even the slightest chance of cure from this type of diabetes. For example, the American Diabetes Association Complete Guide to Diabetes said: " the only way to treat type 1 diabetes is to give the body another source of insulin. Usually, this is done through injections of insulin. However, new experimental approaches also show some promise. Patients with type 1 diabetes have experienced miraculous results from pancreas transplants." Reading these medical books only strengthened my decision not to put Sergei on insulin. We bought him a blood monitor, and he began checking his blood sugar several times a day. I took Sergei off white sugar and white flour. However, this didn't make any difference in his blood tests. I didn't know what to do next. In the bookstore there was a sea of information, all of which was contradictory. I didn't have much time, the doctor threatened to report me to social services because I wouldn't put Sergei on insulin. I decided that I needed only the information that worked. I wanted to know how people become healthy. That's when I started to notice how different people look. I saw that some people look much healthier than others. One day I overcame my embarrassment and began asking healthy-looking people what they knew about alternative treatments for diabetes.

Then one day at my bank, I got in line behind a radiant and happy woman. I asked her my question and she smiled. "Of course, the body can heal everything. I healed my colon cancer fifteen years ago". I invited her to lunch. Elisabeth smiled again: "I cannot eat your lunch, but we can talk." What Elisabeth said was shocking (what do you mean, everything raw?). At the same time I had a very confident feeling inside myself. Elisabeth answered all my questions, and gave me an old book about raw food. No matter how scary everything sounded, it made sense. My heart told me it was right.

Elisabeth, wherever you are, little shy lady, thank you!