Multi-Day Mono-Juice Feasting – Healing Journey Day 7

Journal:
Wow! Today marks a week. After suffering with that awful – weird – stomach pain/aching last night, I am happy to wake up feeling good again. I slept solidly through the night, only quickly waking up once and not remember falling asleep… haha. My body was tired. What more can I say.

I woke up happy and ready to take on the day. I had a dentist appointment at 9:00 am so my morning was dedicated to getting ready. And what did I find this morning that had to go away before I went to the dentist? My tongue covered in white again. Yuck. If this really is toxins leaving my body, then my body was very toxic. Of course I’m just saying this because I’m not a professional on the subject, but the stuff looks and tastes disgusting. I don’t even have to look in the mirror to see if it’s there. I can taste it. It’s not good. So before the dentist started getting too inquisitive, the tongue had to be scraped off and brushed. I haven’t really told anybody around me about my healing journey. I’d rather them see the results and ask themselves, just not the yucky results like a white-covered tongue.

After I got dressed, I did my usual check in the mirror. Believe it or not, I had to stop myself. I’m wearing yoga pants with a tank top and a light cardigan-type thing over top, and for once in absolute months, I did not have to adjust my pants to hide my stomach just the right way. Yes, clearly I’m still overweight, but my stomach fat is not as bloated as it used to be. It almost looked flat from a head-on view. I have the worst self-image so this is a huge thing for me. When I weighed my lightest a few years ago – coming in at 129 lbs – I still looked in the mirror and saw fat. I liked my face at the time and the leanness around my neck/collarbone, but I carry my fat in my stomach (it’s the last to go) and so I couldn’t help but still see how fat I was in the mirror. Having bad self-image is a plague, it really is. But becoming vegan has helped me realize I need to focus on my health first and then everything else will fall into place. And this journey has only helped solidify that way of thinking. So today, I celebrated… with apple juice.

Yes. Today is day 2 of 3 that I am having only pure apple juice.By doing this, I am being easy on my body as it adjusts to having an energy source available again. My body doesn’t have to work on figuring out how to digest many different kinds of sources, it only has to figure out the one making it a much easier process. There’s no confusion, my stomach acids can settle in one place to digest the one ingredient. It’s the absolute easiest way you can come back from fasting.

My dentist appointment went well. I hate getting cleanings done. I really do. Every single time they always ask me if I floss, but it honestly is a part of my nightly hygiene routine to floss. I know that teeth can also have hereditary issues, so perhaps I’ve inherited my father’s awful teeth. But either way, aside from getting more regular cleanings, I’m not sure what to do. If you have any tips, definitely leave them below.

Aside from the regular cleaning, they reviewed a tooth that was supposed to be on watch from two years ago. I had completely forgotten about this. Underneath a filling from 10+ years ago, I had a spot forming that they couldn’t confirm two years ago as it would have required them to take out the filling to inspect. It was very small. Today, according to my x-rays, the spot has gotten a little bigger. Not hugely, but it is bigger. It now can be confirmed as a cavity. Again, since it’s under my filling, it’s going to require taking out my old filling, fixing it, then refilling again. Now, I’ve been looking into healing cavities naturally, and I believe it can be done. But when the dentist told me that if it grows more that it will get to my root (and showed me on the x-ray) that it will require a root canal and not just a filling. I have to admit, a root canal scares me. So against my better wishes, I have an appointment again for next week to have the cavity fixed. I had really bad teeth when I was younger (no doubt related to the way we were allowed to eat) and had many cavities all the time, so having one cavity in two years that honestly already existed before isn’t so bad. It’s progress. I’ve only been vegan for 1 year and even so did not eat healthy all the time. So now I know better what to do and I honestly can’t be eating any healthier than I have been this past week and it’s going to continue for quite some time.

I didn’t do a whole lot after the dentist appointment. I did go grocery shopping with my housemate/friend. The possibility of buying so much food was there, but yet again, I made it through with no mishaps. I was also invited to another free corn boil to which – this time – I declined. Not because I didn’t want to be tempted, but because I knew it was going to get cold again at night and I just didn’t want to be outside for a few hours in the cold. Really it was just personal choice. Plus, the main purpose to be there is to eat and if I’m not going to be eating, then there is less of a reason to go. This really was an event for the students of our school (the older ones that I don’t teach) so it wasn’t like I was denying a true social event with friends.

What did I drink today? As I mentioned above, apple juice again; the same kind I drank yesterday. However, I only consumed about 3-3.25 L compared to the ~3.75L I drank the previous day. I do have a sneaking suspicion that the quality of this Simply Apple juice is not quite the same as the organic ones I bought and may actually be the reason for some extra not-good feelings in my stomach. Time will tell.

Review of Symptoms:
Stomach still acted up throughout the day, always getting worse in the evening. Acne seemed to have a little less “tiny bumps” than yesterday. Otherwise, it seemed to be around the same. Stomach was looking a little less bloated. Tongue was covered in white “gunk” again that needed to be scraped.

Weight at the end of the day = 179.8 lbs (down a total of 9 lbs in 6 days)

Total Calories = 1326 (99% carbs, 0% fat, 1% protein)

Cooked Vs. Raw Experiment

So I’ve been watching a lot of videos, and I’ve heard from Freelee herself that RawTill4 is the most recommended, completely raw vegan is the most ideal, but eating cooked starches is a good third. I also watched a few videos of people who have stopped following Freelee as I was curious as to what they had to say.

For one, I found that the things they were complaining about were either things that were taken the wrong way from her videos, or they clearly didn’t watch all of her videos to understand as much as they should have. The other thing I noticed is they would break away into their own ideals which is fine. I’m not saying Freelee is a god, but I think her nutrition information is great. There is scientific back-up, real life testimonies, and basically everything that makes common sense. I don’t always agree with her views on everything, but there is no denying she is passionate about what she does, and that’s awesome.

So for a bit of an experiment, I decided to try having one meal of fruit in the morning, and then turning to cooked foods starting from my morning snack. I did it for two days, stuck with my normal vegan foods, just the cooked versions. Well, I can assure you I’m returning to RawTill4 tomorrow.

Here’s why:

Basically, I feel fatter, and I feel bloated, and it doesn’t go down as quick like it does with fruit. Cooked food requires more energy to digest and is less hydrating. I feel that. I go to the washroom much less frequently, and the hydration levels are lower. I feel the difference. I’m not hungry, I’m not starving, but I don’t feel as “fresh” either. I miss feeling lighter. I miss feeling “fresh”. So tomorrow, I’m going back.

If you ever experiment with this, let me know how it worked for you! Leave your story in the comments below.

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.