Branches by Brad Gibson |
Now I'm at the age where I am regularly receiving AARP notifications, and I'm starting to reflect on how I may be more like my parents and family than I may like to think. How many of you regularly talk with your friends about your health concerns or routine tests that a physician may be prescribing or recommending? We talk about these issues partly to become informed about procedures, but also to commiserate and offer support and empathy when complications occur. We often compare notes on which care providers have been helpful to us. There have even been times where I have looked up providers on YELP to see what their ratings were. During the AIDS epidemic in the 1980’s, my husband and I lost many friends, so we learned that illness isn’t just for “old people.” And how many of us have lost loved ones and acquaintances to cancer or other chronic diseases?
In the yoga community there are many passionate individuals who believe whole-heartedly in a way of health that I feel is fairly rigid. My own personal pet peeve is the often unspoken allegation within alternative healthcare communities of “healthy living” that if you lived a more “pure and holistic life,” this illness or health problem wouldn’t be happening to you. Too many women I have known with breast cancer have felt the twinge of anxiety that they were the cause of their own cancers. But how much do we owe to our own genetic predispositions rather than to emotional and environmental stresses?
My mother, for example, died of multi-infarct dementia, which caused severe dementia in her last years. She was a cholesterol producer, and no amount of dietary restrictions or faithfully taken statins could keep her cholesterol levels within “therapeutic ranges.” And lo and behold, right after I turned 57 and went for my annual physical and blood work, my doctor contacted me to tell me my “bad cholesterol levels were high.” With further blood work, using more sensitive lipid panels and getting a more complete picture, my numbers came back better. But I was still demonstrating risk factors, so my doctor counseled me on good nutrition (which I already practice), exercise (which I already do), and stress reduction (which I already do). She then commented to me, “Well I suppose this is where your genetic history is coming into play and we just have to watch it.” Oh dear, I thought, now what?
In Melitta’s recent post Aging, Diabetes and Yoga I was struck by her self education regarding Type 1 diabetes, and how she had to play an active role in her healthcare management, even educating her physician on the nature of her disease to get a proper diagnosis. Her story emphasized the need to be involved in your healthcare decisions and not be passive in accepting what “experts” tell you. But it was also inspiring to me because here was someone who was both realistic about her condition (yoga cannot cure Type 1 diabetes) but who at the same time found yoga invaluable for helping her live with (and work with) a chronic condition.
It got me thinking about my own situation. I considered becoming more restrictive with my fat intake, but then concluded it would lead to more stress in the long run. I came to the conclusion that I had to accept my genetic heritage. No, I wouldn’t become like my extended family and bemoan the state of my health, discussing it whenever the opportunity arose while taking no responsibility for my actions. Nor would I become strident in regimenting my life with countless restrictions and intentions. Instead I decided to mindfully continue to engage in activities that made me feel good while maintaining an awareness and consciousness of what and when I ate. As in my yoga practice, I will aim for balance and intention. My genetics are a big factor in my health, but my lifestyle and personal practice of yoga seem to be potent tools that I can use in accepting my genetic hand of cards!
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