Anyone who has followed this column has probably read one or two of my rants on veganism. Most of these stem from my staunch resistance to being restricted from eating anything I choose. However, in light of some recent health issues and the heart gripping fact that I am not getting any younger, I've decided to approach investigating the vegan diet from the viewpoint of some of its potential benefits. There is obviously the fact that the vegan diet puts a much lighter footprint on the earth, that it definitely reduces your cholesterol intake (which for me is a huge thing) and that it often incorporates better food choices, like organic foods, into its repertoire. I'd been thinking about this for a bit, trying to adjust my thought process to one that would in some way welcome such a big change, and then, from an unexpected source, a book literally fell into my lap.

If your mother is anything like mine, there are moments when she is gripped with such fervor that its intensity can only be explained by it having been ignited by her drive to protect whom she loves. Once the spark is lit, she may as well be on a mission from god.

In my mom’s case, I’ve seen this phenomenon occur most frequently when there is a potential risk to someone she cares about. This includes the risks of poor health and its effect on the body. If something will make you healthier, than you just need to carve out the time and energy to do it. Rarely have I encountered anyone who takes her health more seriously than my mother. She wouldn’t agree with me on this; she would say that she tries but doesn't always succeed. However, she’s just being humble. It’s not like she is a marathon runner or into extreme sports, but she exercises the vigilance necessary to keep potential health risks at bay when she is aware of them. It has always been one of the things I admire most about her.

So, it turns out that Type 2 diabetes has started to rear its ugly head in our world and it is affecting people we love. You guessed it: that equals a very serious risk.

And now, a brief jump into the “way-back machine”:

In another life, I was a medical photographer. For six months in Chicago I photographed skin cancers, and then for a year after that in Detroit I was an ophthalmic photographer. I took photographs of people’s eyes. We had imaging equipment for all the parts of the eye, but the most common (and the most fascinating in my opinion) was the fundus photography.

Say it with me: “fundus.”

Webster’s on fundus:

“Main Entry: fun•dus
Pronunciation: \ˈfən-dəs\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural fun•di \-ˌdī, -ˌdē\
Etymology: New Latin, from Latin, bottom
Date: 1764
: the bottom of or part opposite the aperture of the internal surface of a hollow organ: as a : the greater curvature of the stomach b : the lower back part of the bladder c : the large upper end of the uterus d : the part of the eye opposite the pupil”

In our case, it was definition d.

Fundus cameras are designed to photograph the retina. Standard fundus photos are taken in color, but if a patient has diabetes, frequently, the doctor will order flourescein angiography. This study produces a series of several photographs that are black and white, and I don’t want anyone to fall off their chair here, but it actually shows the blood flow into the back of the eye in real time. The flourescein dye is injected into the patient's arm, after having taken control shots, and then under certain filters in the camera, the photographer can actually image the dye in the blood as it flows into the eye and lights up all of the blood vessels.

In a healthy eye, these images will just look like crisp, high-contrast images of the retina, with the veins bright white against the dark grey backdrop of the densely pigmented retinal layer. In an unhealthy eye, specifically one that is afflicted with diabetes, depending on the extent of the deterioration of the blood vessels, will start to light up in the back of the eye. These bright spots are the places where ophthalmologists focus their laser treatments. The goal of these treatments as I understand it is to preserve the patient’s central vision for as long as possible by cauterizing the leaking vessels. In general, patients with diabetic retinopathy tend to exhibit blood vessel leakage first on the periphery, and then as the condition worsens, the leaking vessels get closer and closer to the avascular foveal zone, i.e., the sweet spot for your central vision. Eventually, this can lead to total blindness.

My reason for giving you this unexpected (and most likely uninvited) lecture on fundus photography and diabetic retinopathy is that I wanted to share my experience, limited though it is, of diabetes with you. Most of us know someone in our lives who is affected by diabetes. In an unexpected turn of the screw, my mom has known an increasing number of people in her life who have been diagnosed with the disease lately. And it’s because of diabetes she recently called me up and subsequently thrust a copy of a book about following a vegan diet into my hands.

Now, I don’t have diabetes. I’m not pre-diabetic either, but it appears that I do have a familial predisposition to develop diabetes judging by some recent diagnoses in my greater family. In addition to that, it seems like there are more and more convincing arguments out there for being vegan. Most of these stem from the health benefits that can occur from following such a diet. Particularly if your vegan diet includes organic foods, and you keep the super sugary things in check, you’re going to be in pretty good shape. Also, I think it’s safe to say that most people agree that a B12 supplement for those following a vegan diet is a must.

At any rate, the book my mom gave me is a pretty good read. For something I initially rolled my eyes at reading, Dr. Neal Barnard’s Program for Reversing Diabetes was a surprising page turner. It advocates a diet that has complex carbohydrates and whole grains, organic foods, minimal oil used in the preparation of food, a reduction in the naturally fatty foods like avocadoes and olives and sticking to foods low on the Glycemic index. Oh yeah, and of course, it completely tosses out meat, cheese and eggs.

It actually sounds pretty good.

There are plenty of naturally scrumptious foods, and many recipes can be adapted to a vegan version without a ton of extra work. It also apparently does what it alleges to do. It lowers people’s sugar profoundly in lots of cases. In addition to that, there have been other benefits cited by people who have used this diet, such as improved sleep and higher energy levels just to name a couple.

However, I don’t agree with everything in the book, as in, I’m still completely unconvinced as to the virtues of soy in general, and I’m not sure what is actually in fake meat alternatives, but I’m not really drawn to eat those things anyway. My thinking is: Why would I want fake meat? If I can’t have the real thing, what is the point or trying to choke down a substitute? It’s not my style.

Anyway, the best argument for any food in my book is that food is always at its best when it is allowed to shine for what it is. For me, that means largely organic foods that are full of flavor, recipes that use the natural complementary nature of different foods to bring out the best in each other and not flubbing it up with weirdness like meat-free “sausage crumbles” (my deepest apologies to the die-hard sausage crumblers in the audience).

Dr. Barnard offers soy and meat substitutes as potential tools you can use to help maintain a vegan diet. For me, a week of step-down with lots of peanut butter and jelly rice cakes turned out to be what was needed (though I am still struggling with deviations). I just couldn’t go cold turkey … or cold kelp loaf (yick).

So I had this book and my mom, who beat me to veganism (and is loving it by the way except for its distressing lack of cheese), was starting to convince me that maybe it was worth a real shot. Also, a little over a month ago, I was stricken by some (still) inexplicable severe chest pains and had to go to the ER. This on top of everything else really has given me pause. I’m not even 30 yet, and this year constitutes my having the most issues ever with my physical health. It’s not been fun. I’ve been really grumpy, seriously funky and profoundly tired. Trying the vegan thing has helped a bit. Also, in an unexpected benefit, cutting out the dairy particularly has had a startling effect on my chronic acid reflux. It’s almost gone when I follow the vegan diet. Even if I eat slightly more spicy foods, my body can all of a sudden handle it better. That being said, when I deviate, I know.

To add to the knowledge I had been amassing on the virtues of veganism, the other night, my boyfriend and I watched a documentary called The Beautiful Truth. It was about a few things: mercury poisoning, toxins in our food, but ultimately, it was about the Gerson Therapy.

The Gerson Therapy advocates a strict organic vegan diet as a part of their treatment for cancer. It involves some other things as well, the least appetizing of which is regular (no pun intended) organic coffee enemas, but diet is the main significant change. Also, they appear to have had astounding success rates in treating all kinds of cancers, as well as some other illnesses, with this therapy. From what I could tell, this therapy also does not involve a plethora of drugs that can potentially make you as sick as the original disease. As I watched this documentary unfold, all I could think was that I sincerely wished I had seen it before my uncle passed away last Thanksgiving from esophageal and liver cancer.

Now, before everyone writes in - I know that this is a controversial topic, and that the lines are drawn quite decisively on both sides. I find it a compelling possibility though, in a world ever more put upon by cancers of all kinds, that there is a treatment option that suggests, we - good god the gall - go back to eating unadulterated foods as the main crux of its argument. The more I learn about the mainstream food industry and about the abundance of toxic things we are exposed to every day, I’m finding myself more and more invested in making the healthy choices. So I am sort of giving it a real go, though I am loathe to admit it. (Once I put it out there, I’m sure to fail at it.)

However, I have to reserve the right to eat whatever the hell I want at any time. Will it help me lose weight? In theory, but maybe not. It's more of a health choice at this moment than anything else.

With that in mind, making healthier choices becomes almost effortless, because then I am not being restricted.

...At least that’s what I tell my brain.