This article was written by Ronda Behnke; story was from a young woman who wanted to remain anonymous.  Names and some information have been changed to protect confidentiality.

It was the summer 5 years ago.  The sun was shining, temperatures were moderate, humidity was low.  But to me, none of that mattered.  I had less than 3 months to live.

It wasn’t a usual diagnosis:  multi-system organ failure.  It even took medical specialists months of testing to determine that they didn’t know what was wrong; but they knew the results:  all my organs were failing. The cause was unknown.  The prognosis:  I would die within 3 months.

How it all began

I would say I was a healthy child.   I only remembered going to the doctor a few times when I was younger—both times for some sort of accident:  once I fell on a large nail that stabbed me in the buttocks; the other time was for a fall that caused a gash in my head.  I never remembered any times of having to take medicines until I went through puberty and developed asthma—then I became aware of drugs, hospitals, and needles.  Overall, however, I managed to stay generally healthy.  I even saw the medical system as being great and became a Registered Nurse.

But I was never truly happy; still, I wasn’t exactly depressed either.  I just saw life as something that I had to do until I died.  I had been raised in a religion where it preached that the end of the world would come soon and only the members of that religion would live on.  So, I saw no future beyond waiting until the end of the world.  And, since I had left that religion when I was 16, I figured I wouldn’t live through the destruction.

So, I went on and on, day after day, waiting for the end of the world.  The older I became, the more I doubted the religion’s prediction.  So, I married and thought of some kind of future; still, the end of the world loomed in the back of my mind.

But having had no dreams or beliefs of a happy future, I was not happy.  Having come from an abusive home, I continued that pattern by marrying a man who was different in that he didn’t abuse me, but he was similar in that he disregarded me in many respects and put himself as the focus of everything.  Having taken care of my family during my youth, I continued that pattern with my new husband.

The more neglectful he became, the sadder I found myself becoming.  I sought counseling to teach me how to manage and be a better wife.  The counseling helped somewhat, but each counselor told me that my husband was also a part of the problem and he would have to change too.  He refused to change or see a counselor (as it was just my problem) because he felt he could do no wrong.

I began to have spurts of nausea.  At first they were here and there, a few times a month.  As I truly had no tolerance for nausea, I sought medical care pretty quickly.  I was studying natural medicines at the time, but I knew of no herbs, vitamins or minerals that could stop nausea in its tracks.  So, I looked at medical drugs for the relief.  The drugs worked well, but I soon noticed that the nausea increased in frequency to where it was several times each week.  I was eating less and becoming sadder as time went on.

The Downhill Slope

After several months of frequent nausea, I decided to return to my medical doctor to determine the cause.  He was unsure of the cause, so the only course of treatment was more nausea medications.

As I continued to lose weight due to inability to eat well, I went to a Naturopathic Doctor.  She stated I needed a liver flush and about $200 worth of supplements.  I informed her that I couldn’t keep any food down, so the supplements wouldn’t stay down either.  She encouraged me to try, as the “muscle testing” never lies and it showed that I needed the supplements so I wouldn’t get sick on them.

So, I tried.  After the first dose, I was so intensely ill with nausea and vomiting that I couldn’t do anything for several days.  I stopped taking the supplements after that first dose and cancelled the next appointment.

In the meantime, I began to see how neglectful my husband was.  He loved his computers and would let nothing interfere with his time with them.  He told me that I could have all the medical tests I wanted, get hospitalized, and see doctors, but I was not to bother him or expect him to visit me in the hospital or go with me to get tests.

I also began to look at how he was with me even when my illness wasn’t a concern.  He was the focus of everything.  We went nowhere unless he wanted to go.  He refused to travel, refused to see movies he didn’t want to see, refused to buy presents for me but would spend a lot of money on “toys” for himself.  I had only a few acquaintances and a couple of friend who weren’t his friends.  He didn’t want me to tell anyone I was sick; he didn’t want people to distract him from his time with his computer.  I was not allowed to tell his parents either.  He also didn’t want me to get attention for being ill, as he stated I was ill just to get attention and take him away from his computer.

So, I was alone, watching and wondering what was going to happen.

In time, I had lost so much weight that I needed to have special IV foods (called Total Parenteral Nutrition, TPN) to maintain life, as my stomach couldn’t work enough to digest other foods.  I ate baby food whenever I could, which wasn’t very often.

I was then told that I would die within 3 months if things didn’t change, and change was unlikely because the specialists couldn’t determine what was causing the problem in the first place.

On an off-chance, I scheduled an appointment with a natural-medical doctor.  He ran a lot of other tests:  hair analysis, heavy metal tests, adrenal gland function tests, sex hormone tests, etc.  His conclusion was that my adrenal glands were failing; but, he was unsure if his interventions would be enough to reverse the damage.

Turning Things Around

The adrenal glands directly or indirectly impact every body system, every function, from hair growth to blood sugar balancing to food digestion to blood pressure…and everything in between.  The natural-medical doctor’s ideas were sound, as I had all organs failing. I began taking his special medicines to help the adrenal glands.  It was worth a try.

My husband seemed to care only in that I wasn’t complaining as much.  But he didn’t want to watch me die.  He spent more time than usual at work or on his computer in the den.  We talked little.  I even had to move to a separate bedroom.  I continued to see a counselor, but little could be done except prepare me for death.  I still wanted to be a good wife and spent the majority of my time (when I wasn’t in the hospital) cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, etc.

I had accepted my fate—death.  It was a relief to know that my suffering would end shortly.  I didn’t want to suffer; I didn’t care if I lived or died.  I felt my dreams of having a child, traveling, having a nice home, a steady income, a stable career—most of my dreams—would never come to be even if I lived because I had a husband that didn’t want anything to do with me on an intimate or social level, and stifled my abilities at every turn.

I decided to confide in a friend about my pending death and asked what I should do.  She recommended I see a special counselor who did a different type of counseling.  I shrugged and made an appointment.

After a couple of sessions with Lynn, I chose to spare my husband any more distractions and moved out.  It was a tough decision because I felt he, my husband, couldn’t live without me as he didn’t cook, clean, shop, or anything.  When I initially left, I did it for him, to spare him any more suffering because of my situation.  He didn’t want to be at my bedside when I died; I took that responsibility away.

With the end of the three months approaching, I decided to go away and await my fate.  I secluded myself in a little cabin in the woods.  And I waited.  And it was there that I realized my fate was entirely my own.  I would live if I wanted to live, or I would die if I wanted to die.

It was also in nature that I discovered that “’til death do us part” was the main reason I was dying.  I took this vow literally.  I hated the relationship I was in but couldn’t leave while I was alive.  Once I realized that, I was able to piece together a possible future, one that could only be if I survived and made it happen.

I had never wanted to live until that day.

Having turned away from God after leaving the religion I had been in as a youth, I never thought to pray.  But that day I made a promise to God that I would not intentionally or unintentionally do anything to end my life.  If I would die, it was not going to be because I didn’t try to live.

So I returned to society.  I diligently worked with Lynn to heal the emotional wounds that had been started with my childhood abuse and continued though my marriage.  I worked with the natural-medical doctor to heal the adrenal glands, and later, to restore vitality to the damaged organs.

And, I never returned to my husband, getting a divorce when I knew for certain that I would live.

Today

It has been nearly 5 years since I decided to live.  The road back to health hasn’t been easy.  But my dreams are coming true one at a time, and more dreams are made.  I have a great career, and I’ll be a mother soon.  And the medical bills are almost all paid, which will help with the financial balance I seek.

I learned many things along this journey toward health.  I learned that the medical system doesn’t know everything, and when they say “there’s nothing that can be done”, it only means they don’t have a drug or surgical procedure that can help—it doesn’t mean that nothing can be done because there are thousands of natural supplements and treatments that can help.

I also learned that healing can occur even when there is little hope left.  As long as you want to heal, then you can heal.  When you give up, then healing stops and death takes over.  As soon as you believe the words that you have only a certain amount of time to live, then you only have that amount of time to live.

And, most importantly, I learned that the mind is very powerful, and your thoughts determine your reality.  Granted, I had a physical reason for all my organs to fail, but they would never have gotten to that point if I hadn’t wanted to die in the first place.  I would’ve never committed suicide, but I did commit myself to death.

This article is dedicated to all those struggling to find their place in the world, and leave their health behind while looking.  I hope you find your way soon, and that you bring your health with you.

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