10/10/2026
IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO GET BACK ON TRACK
My journey through grief, illness, healing, and finding myself again.
What a crazy, beautiful, heartbreaking, miraculous road this has been.
Here's the quick catch-up. Well, as quick as I can make it!
Until around 2021, my health was spectacular. I was a life coach, coaching others, running Spartan races, participating in endurance events, hiking, and absolutely loving life. I was strong, active, and embracing every single moment.
And here's the remarkable part: I was doing all of this while living with advanced cirrhosis of the liver.
Despite the seriousness of my diagnosis, I was thriving. I had developed a lifestyle that worked for me. Nutrition, hydration, supplements, movement, natural wellness practices, and a deep belief in the body's ability to respond to proper care.
Everything I believed in seemed to be working.
And then my world shattered.
My eldest daughter passed away.
Grief is a strange and powerful thing. Mine manifested as anger. Terrible, consuming anger.
And instead of caring for the body that had carried me through so much, I began punishing it.
The gym became my refuge, but somewhere along the way, exercise stopped being healing and became destructive.
I exercised too much. I ate too little. I stopped following the very routines that had helped me thrive. I neglected my hydration, my vitamins, my nutrition, and the balance I had worked so hard to achieve.
I pushed harder and harder.
I was doing abdominal exercises with hundreds of pounds of resistance, and I severely injured my stomach and intestines.
And I didn't seek the medical attention I needed.
I had always leaned toward homeopathic and natural healing, and in my stubbornness, I failed to recognize when I needed more help.
I was hurting, physically and emotionally, and I kept pushing anyway.
Over the next few years, my health deteriorated dramatically. I became terribly ill, eventually finding myself nearly back where I had started in 2018.
All that progress. All that strength. All that healing.
It felt as though I had lost it.
And then God moved.
I underwent surgery at Vanderbilt.
The circumstances were extraordinary.
The surgeon apparently hadn't fully understood the severity of my liver disease before operating.
When he opened me up, he discovered extensive scarring and spoke to my husband about how badly damaged my liver was.
My husband's response?
"We already knew that."
The surgery removed hernias and masses that had been interfering with my ability to nourish my body properly.
And suddenly, I had another chance.
I began healing.
But old habits are hard to break, especially for someone like me who has always believed in pushing forward.
I tried to return to exercise too quickly. I injured my knees. I faced additional complications. My weight had climbed again, and my body was still struggling.
Eventually, I returned to Vanderbilt because of additional intestinal masses.
This time, the news was devastating.
I was told I should never have undergone the original surgery because of the risks associated with my liver disease.
I was deemed inoperable.
Imagine hearing that.
But here's something I've learned about myself.
I may get knocked down. I may get angry. I may get discouraged. But I have never been particularly good at staying down.
So I went back to the beginning.
Not to the beginning of my illness.
To the beginning of what had helped me feel alive.
I returned to the habits that had served me so well.
I began eating small amounts of protein every couple of hours. I returned to my hydration routine, including my Kangen water, and reintroduced the herbs, supplements, and nutritional practices that had been part of my life.
I also began studying something that fascinated me: sylvotherapy, also known as forest therapy.
I immersed myself in learning about the scientific research surrounding nature, trees, plant compounds, stress reduction, and the relationship between our environment and our well-being.
It was exciting to discover research that supported many of the benefits I had personally experienced from spending time outdoors.
I wasn't simply returning to old habits. I was educating myself, asking questions, and learning even more about the extraordinary relationship between nature and human health.
And I started hiking again.
Not racing.
Not punishing myself.
Just walking. Breathing. Listening. Living.
One step at a time.
The weight began coming off. My strength began returning.
My daily health measurements improved.
And something even more important happened.
I found my peace again.
Today, I am back on track.
But today, my blood pressure and blood sugar readings are excellent. I monitor my health closely, including using a daily breath-testing device to track digestive gases associated with SIBO.
(Ask me about that sometime. It's fascinating!)
My current numbers give me tremendous encouragement, even though I know that good daily readings don't erase advanced liver disease or replace medical monitoring.
I am walking. I am hiking. I am learning. I am living.
And most importantly, I am no longer trying to punish my body for the pain in my heart.
I am learning to love and care for it again.
Why am I sharing all of this?
And sometimes the very people who teach others about health, wellness, balance, and resilience are the ones who lose their own way.
I did.
I made mistakes. Big ones.
I ignored warning signs. I pushed too hard. I let anger take the place of self-care.
But those mistakes do not have to be the end of my story.
And your mistakes don't have to be the end of yours.
I believe in natural wellness. I believe in good nutrition, movement, time in nature, and the extraordinary resilience of the human spirit. I also understand more deeply now that serious illness requires respect, proper medical care, and knowing when to ask for help.
My journey is my own. It isn't a prescription or a promise that everyone will experience the same results.
But it is proof of something deeply personal:
Even after losing your way, you can begin again.
Today, I have peace.
Today, I have joy.
Today, I have challenges. Oh, plenty of them!
But I also have hope, gratitude, determination, and a renewed appreciation for every single day God gives me.
So I invite you to join me on this journey.
The mistakes, the foibles, the laughter, the tears, the mess, the miracles, and all the wonderfully imperfect things that make us human.
One day at a time. One step at a time. One beautiful breath at a time.
It's never too late to get back on track.
And I am so very grateful to be finding my way again.
With love, gratitude, and a whole lot of determination,
~shell
Click Here
For the blogs from 2018 ALL the beginnings, that I have returned to.