Two hundred and fifty years ago, a group of people made a declaration.
They decided they wanted a say in what happened to their own lives.
I’m not going to compare King George to your cardiologist. 😂
But I’ve been thinking about that word.
Independence.
And what it might mean when it comes to our health.
Because at 55, I wasn’t feeling particularly independent.
I had type 2 diabetes.
I was carrying 98 extra pounds.
My feet hurt. My knee hurt. My back hurt. My shoulder hurt.
Several surgeries were being discussed.
There were doctors and appointments and recommendations and a pretty clear picture emerging of what the next chapter of my life might look like.
Nobody was doing anything wrong.
They were trying to help me.
But somewhere along the way I realized something that changed my life.
They could help me.
But they couldn’t do my part for me.
That became my declaration.
Not independence from medicine.
Thank God for medicine.
Peggy and I learned that lesson rather dramatically this past year.
My declaratio…
