Four years ago, once he was pressured for honesty, a doctor told me I had between five and ten years left. That was a few months after my kidney, heart, and lung failure; the blood clots; anemia; and the stroke.

“You insisted I be honest. I could be wrong, but with what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you are here at all. I think you know I am not the only one. You did not just have one life-threatening illness. You had the perfect storm.”

He hadn’t wanted to answer my question, but I pestered him until he did. I believe he felt a burden lift when he responded. It’s not too often a patients wants the hard truth.

The picture on the left was two years ago, two years after the conversation. I was twenty pounds heavier than when the doctor gave me his prediction. I would gain another twenty-five pounds.

That doctor’s honesty and matter of fact comments did not motivate me. Obviously. If anything, I believed my demise was ordained.

So I comforted myself with food, the very addiction that brought me to my dance with the Lady in Black in the first place.

Here’s what I understood during my five weeks in the hospital: I could have crossed over at any time. It felt like I was wading in the afterlife, and she (the Lady in Black) was patiently waiting for me to choose.

Life or death? It’s up to you, Tom.

I am one of the lucky ones—I got to choose.

I was so far gone some friends came to the hospital once and decided not to return.

“We knew you were going to die,” two told me. “We did not want to see you that way.”

I was not just gone physically. My head was elsewhere. But I was calm, and not the least bit worried. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. And yes, in my madness, there really was a Lady in Black by my side the entire time no one else was in the room.

She and I had lengthy conversations. Although I admit to doing most of the talking. She was a good listener—genial, gentle, with lips and eyes that expressed kindness, humor, amusement.

The hallucinations eased. Our long philosophical conversations and confessions faded. And so did she.

By the end of my stay, I no longer saw her.

But here’s the thing. I know she is never far away. Still.

Once you make friends with Death, there is no leaving her. Once you know she’s there, it’s actually a comfort.

I consider it a super power. Knowing death, I mean. It helps a person see things more clearly than before.

These days, she no longer sits with me awaiting my decision. But during quiet moments I feel her gaze and can sense her listening. Sometimes, I feel her in the forest, gliding from birch to hemlock, just out of sight.

She’s in no hurry to grab hold. It’s not like that at all. If anything, I’d like to think we came to an understanding.

I’d also like to think I will now live longer than what was predicted. Alas, one never knows. But I have given myself a fighting chance. Food, which nearly killed me, has now saved me. It took me two years to come to that understanding and to revolutionize my way of thinking about what I was eating.

Doctors we’re limited in what they could do for me. So I did it for myself.

During this winter’s upcoming trip, one of the aspects I’m excited about is the challenge of eating a healthy whole-food, plant-based diet while traveling. Unlike most vegans, I don’t eat out. Burger King’s Impossible Burgers will do me no good. I avoid all oils, and I minimize salt, fats, and the vast majority of processed foods. Restaurants are mostly out of the question. Grocery stores are my thing.

I’ll continue on the Esselstyn plan, although it’s not really called that. Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn’s son, Rip, is the originator of the Engine 2 Diet. Rip’s plan is called plant strong. While Rip refer’s to his father’s plan as plant perfect. Yes, it’s strict, but it’s the only diet scientifically proven to help reverse heart disease. Hence, the name.

It led me to get off of my blood pressure and beta blocker medications. I’ve lost 143 lbs. My resting heart rate today is 51 beats per minute. My current blood pressure is 96/66. My sleep apnea and pre-diabetes are gone.

Next April, I will turn sixty. I have not felt this good, or this young, in decades.

I promise not to evangelize my way of eating, but some of my posts during the trip will touch on the food and how I’m eating. Some of you may find that interesting. Some of you, I know, are in a similar boat with a history of health issues brought on by eating the Standard American Diet.

I’ll close by telling you how good it feels to still have a choice about sticking around. I know she likes to stick in the background, but you’ll notice I keep an Adirondack chair open for in the yard.

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PS: I had the rear brakes replaced on Clarence this week. While he was in the dealership in Portsmouth, I had them detail him. It’s been a grand week for grooming. Samwise and Emily has a spa day, and so did Clarence. Heck, I even shaved on Thursday. I took the photograph of Chocorua this morning, on our way to retrieve our steed.

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