Good News first; I'm still here, least for a while 😆. Nah, just joking. You'll have to put up with me for the rest of your life and to add more agony to it, I am determined to outlive you, no matter how young you are! At the age of 61 I beieve I stand the best chances to succeed.
I trust you've read the about me page, then you know a little of my average background, my colourful and diverse, ever sprouting life.
Sure we all live through hights and lows, experience sorrow and joy, loose things and win them back. It's just part of life as much as we have to sleep and eat very day. It's what makes life interesting. For me, at least. I don't knnow about you.
Sure we all have dreams. Dreams for our life' course, dreams for our loved ones, our children. Dreams we work hard for and often times endure harsh conditions to fulfill our dreams. One dream but we all have, and that I am very sure of, is to live a long and happy, healthy life. If I'm wrong, feel free to drop me a note in the comment section, below. But what if that last dream is taken from us? What if we have to face a different reality than what we thought we live in, reality that our days are counted and that we need to prepare ourselves for our exit?
What about having to learn that everything we thought we were, was just a farce? Now I'm talking about living an exiting life, feeling healthy every day and growing. Eating whatever we can grab and not putting on weight. Able to do any sports, travel, party, drink, smoke, ...hang on. No latter I gave away 40 years ago after smoking no less than 120 cigarets (without filter) every day. So what about having to face reality? Reality being: You lived in your own shaddow and your shaddow is now about to overtake you.
Let me tell you how that feels.
“It feels like you betrayed yourself all your life long.”Norbert Harms
Life had taken a sharp U-turn for me. Beginning of March 2018, after a long, agonying night up in pain I submitted myself to the hospital. Pain in my abdominal area which was so severe, it raised serious concerns that grave illness had stricken me. I wasn't able to lie down, I couldn't sit down neither. I hardly managed to walk and that, only in dawdling slow motion while supporting myself crawling along walls or holding onto room furnitue. I counted every minute, every second. Believe me, this was my longest night ever, lasting from 8pm to 6am next day morning. An entire night long in that much pain. All I could do is try to keep focus on staying afoot. Falling, fainting, even dieing, every crazy thought jogged my mind. On a flip-side, passing out and away while asleep is supposed to be painless, so I heard. Given the deadly pain I felt that time, ...who wouldn't accept such a pain killer? Oh C'mon, allow me a little (cynical) fun here.
If I talk pain, I mean extreme pain. You need to know that all these years I did Not take any medicine. Did I ever experience pain then? Sure I did, as we all do at times. But I always meditated it away. It may have taken a few dyas, yes, but I always managed to get rid of my pain, naturally.
This pain, however, this wasn't pain. It was the medieval like torture. Pain you feel when you are about to be ripped into pieces. Pain that let's you experience your gut being ripped out of you while alive. No, this wasn't pain. This was being eaten alive.
Come 6:00 am I call the Taxi to take me to the hospital. What? Me? Hospital? Norbert, what's wrong with you? Don' be such a chicken. Yep, these were the thoughts taking their rounds inside my head. Least they helped me to feel less pain, especially when the Taxi took leaps over the many road humps in Sydney. These humps have certainly their value but are just as much of a nuisense for people like me at the time.
Nevertheless, the taxi driver ultimately understood I am in serious pain and slowed down. Much appreciate it. So I finally made it to the hospital "Emergency". Me, pulling myself out of the taxi and crawling along towards the entrance, hardly breathing, less even walking upright, I need to make another discovery; Hospital staff is auccessfully passing me. I won't name the hospital but take it is one of Sydney's leading one. That experience continues inside, me trying to make it to the counter where people barley look at me. Finally one discovers me but then was happy enough to have seen me and carries on as if I wasn't there. Well, I have to admit, it wasn't me there, it was some strange looking, weird acting creature, pretending to be human.
The look I'd receive is that of a kind of; 'What's wrong with that guy, is he drunk or still under drugs? Why can't he live a normal life like us and go to work? Why does he have to drink and take drugs? So I waited, under as much pain as I was, holding myself up trying not to faint,
just to avoid More Embarrassment.
There, all by myself, still barely holding up and cruising the waiting area in super slow motion, bent like the The Hunchback of Notre Dame, people staring at me as if I was a pestilence, a leper. At that time, shame hit me on every square inch of my body. I started to think about the level of discrimination some people may have to encounter and put up with, only because they don't fit the perfect profile, only because they went off track, for any, unknown to us nor comprehensive, reason, for reasons anyone of us conforming citizens may well slip into and fade away ourselves. In an era we claim to be so highly educated, living within a society that is (self)proclaimed believed to be racist and discrimination free and showcased as the most successful multinational Nation? Shame on all the deniers and false proclaimers, shame on the ones hiding behind the double-sided curtain, full of cheap glitter at its front end, rottening away at the back end.
Then, finally, after almost 3 hours waiting in that Emergency Hall Of Hell, one hospital staff dared to approach me. Did I look that dangerous? Really? Could it be that they all waited for me to break out in rage? Was it perhaps they waited for me to confirm of being that stereotype they projected into me, waiting for me to go rogue and attack other people in the hall so they could finally call security to remove me before they have to attend to me? Because, and even under the most self-excusable excuses, they most possibly wouldn't have been able to further uphold and justify my guinness emergency waiting record? I must have been such a disappointment to them, not to conform but patiently endure my pain, eating me away while slithering around the hall.
After some time chatting with that hospital staff, I remember telling about a possible food poisoning bcause that evening before I ate some takeaway food which I remember didn't lend me the freshest impression of it, that hsopitals staff finally realised I didn't fit any of the denominated social outlaws and I aso didn't fake my pain just to get their attention. So I finally receive some pain killers. Yay! I felt like jumping up and asking the visiting ward nurses for a dance which, of course, I couldn't manage to do so. Bummer. Pain killers. Aren't they meant to kill pain? Perhaps I'm wrong about that but what I m certain is, whatever those pills were, they didn't even cause a scratch on my pain.
Still with no relieve of my pain in sight but with hospital staff now paying more attention, I then recieve a morphium injections. Morphium, isn't that some serious shit? Anyway, while it may have caused a slight tickle, it certainly wans't worth a laugh. Not even a short smile. With the staff being as puzzled as me, they make a decision to give me another shot, this time setting the dosage level at the highest allowable level.
Guess what? This finally caused some positive damage on the pain. Finally the pain lessened a little. Least to a level at which the pain was barable and I also allowed me to finally take a deep breath. I finally felt like my life is worth living, again, although the pain was still quite strong and persevering. Perhaps now you can reproduce, to some extend, the pain I swallowed? And that comes from a guy like me, a guy who can take some serious ahit load of pain without even mentioning it.
After having taken some blood tests, the hospital marathon then begins. Countless other tests and X-rays, scans, etc. will have followed and then late July 2018 I was called into the office of the hospital's leading liver transplant surgeon - to receive my
A Life Slap Into My Face
- Diagnosis = Rare kind of cancer, aslo known as a The Silent Killer named: Extrahepatic Cholangiocarcinoma otherwise more commonly pronounced: Distal Extrahepatic Bile Duct Cancer.
- Severity = Suggest immediate surgical extraction of infected left part of liver
- Under the knife already by the end of August 2018
I didn't have enough time to prepare
As you can see from the dates, time for me was scarce. Always a happy, active as larry and utmost positive throughout my life, here I was, arrived at the end station when I thoght I haven't even started the journey. Out of the blue, the entire building of a 378 stories high sky scraper collapsed upon me, squashing me to - next to nothig. My plans disappeared, vanished. gone forever. I didn't know what to do first to prepare for the worst. Did I tell anyone? No. Only the last few days before sliding under the knife, I opened up to two of my best friends. The last I could have needed is anyone's sorrow, pity or worry. I had enough to care about myself not to go insane.
I must admit, it took me a few days to come to grips with myself. But,
Once I accepted my destiny, I saw the world in different colours!
Everyting around me looked and felt different
I knew, I had a mission to fulfill!
My 180° change in life
I already knew what will come after surgery, should I wake up. I don't intend to dramatise but cornered like this, you need to take every possible scenario into account and plan for, no matter how little time you got. You have to clear your head and take action on every aspect.
Never Stop Learning
There was no way I would undergo any post surgery medical reatment, Nothing, Zero, Silch. So off I went, back to the books, again. I stuck my head into everyting. I researched day and night scrutinising every source of information I could dig out, contacted people beind those sources, etc., etc. Every little something that would tell me somthing added fuel to the hunger for finding answers. I created a huge bonfire, swallowing up every bit information I could piece together. It' alreay enough to fill a couple of years, if not more, solid university study. But don't worry, I won't stop here, I haven't even begun yet 😄
Having said that, there was but nothing on the medical side that could provide me with some medical solutions to healing my illness. Science just wasn't, and still is not up for it. Science, (Western) medicine have nothing to tell about what causes my illness, nothing that could tell me what possibly could help treating, perhaps even curing it. Silch, Zero, Nothing.
That dude is on fire During my tiredless info-scan, looking out for some light, some slightest hint even, I first came across one guy who inspired me. A guy who cured himself from another rare immune disease and that, solely by changing his life style and starting to drink juices. JUICES?, What? Geesuss, is this guy serious?
Alright, no more time for that. Enough. It's time for me to say .
It was time now for me to pack my bag and march off to the hospital (yes I walked the kilometers, enjoying the light of life) and report myself to the butcher room, I gathered already that much information that I couldn't wait to come back home again. Laying on the operation table I had fun, joking with the anaesthetist and begging him to shout me some free doses as sleeping pills. The head nurse I asked if she could check the surgeons knives to make sure they are sharp enough so they can perform a nice, clean cut. Finally i urged them to hurry up since I needed to be home for supper.
Well c'mon, you gotta have some fun the last minutes you breath some fresh air and before you have to suck in some drug that sends you asleep.
Expecting the worst to happen and the best right after, I was proven wrong of the sequence. Holy Molly. What happened to my forecasting skills?
After some 7 hours under the kinfe I finally woke up, Yay, I made it, several pounds lighter and a minimum of ten years younger looking. Wow, can I go back another few yours, Please? Joking. That day after surgery, hanging around in an empty room with only two super bored and ultra moody nurses filling some empty corners? Boy, what another mental torture and that right after surgery!
Couldn't they put me in a room with some people, at least? There's no need to pair me up with zombies, I was zombie enough myself. Uh, hospitals. Did I mention food? Better don't ask. But having said that, you really wonder. Knowing that these hospital menues are being put together by hospital grade, certified and decorated nutritionists ...What? Excuse me? Is that so? Uh, never mind, you won' have much time to rub your Les Misérables off on me.
Next day, first day after surgery, after endless begging and successful pretending that I feel no pain, even demonstrating it by walking further then I was allowed to and the nurse had to run after me to get me back, I won. I was transferred to the ward. Uhm, wait. Am I right here? Is this the ward or an extension of the mental torture room I just came from? The nurses on the ward seem to be crumpier than than zombie up, down, next, ...gosh I don't know. Anyhow, surely somehow lclose to you. Hurray, I must have hit the hospital jackpot.
Moment of truth. Doctors visit. So what's the verdict? Where have I landed? Any hope? As I said before, wrong sequence. Anyway, spit out the good News so I have at least something to fall back to when I hear the bad News.
Good News:No cancer (apparently). Hurray Bad News:You suffer a Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis
Eh, excuse, a what? Prime Mary disclosing call on a guy this? What the heck? Are you talking English to me or what? As it turns out I must have totally mis-heard this one. Anyway, calling it by its short version PSC still doesn't make any sense. So what is it? Apparently it's a long term progressive liver disiease scaring the liver and attacking the bile duct. It's another of these diseases science does no little about. That much little, in fact, that no medical help is available. In short, all you can do is wait until the Progressing disease progressed far enough to cause your liver collapse. Well, in this case, Hurray, Jackpot again. With one jackpot chasing the other, perhaps I should go and buy a lottery ticket?
In that case I can't really tell what I would have liked to hear, rather. Least cancer would't take that long?
Alright then. Where does this leave me now? Perhaps it'd be better if I'd, adjust my search queries a little? What do You think? Anyway, now determined to leave hsopital ASAP, more than ever, I made friends with the physical terapist and thanks to her determination to get rid of me ASAP, on day three after my cut, I was walking up and down staircases already. The food, BTW, got worse by the day. I was starving on one side and on the other, almost throwing up. The only exitment I had was my Pysio, a couple really nice night nurses and even the most crumpy day nurse I turned around and cutting some jokes with me (not bad, huh, given my short stay) and yes, of course, the miserable conditions of the many other patients I met on that ward, the ward of Being placed into a row, you know what I mean.
Finally, day six, morning hours. Desperately waiting for the release papers, the nurse arrives to hand me the envelope and kiss my butt goodbye. After all this mind gobbling hodgepodge, I was finally human once again and continue with my search on how to heal myself
Months of endless research continued and as a matter of fact, I still continue researching. Though, it may sound a little strange to many people who know me. A little much strange, I could say. All my life I was a meat and cheese fanatic, one could say. Take my meat and dairy away and I would chase you for as long as it would take for me to get it back. Tell me that eating meat isn't really that good for you, or milk, sugar, ...you name it. You'd have stood best chaces for me to declare you stupid, cracy, insane, jeallous perhaps because you can' eat that much as I did.
And here I was, dropping meat, dairy, sugar, gluten, cooked, and a few other - loved to death food - literally over night! OMG, did I mention food as one of my life long passion? I even learnt from and worked with someof the world's best Chefs, ran my own catering business and had Italian Cuisine written all over me. And now that? No mmore Heavenly delisious Pasta? No mor Pizza? No more Bread, No steaks, No sausages, No Cheese, No Yoghurt? What? Are you serious? Goodness heaven, get your brain back, Norbert!
Yep, that I did, indeed. I got my brain back. For years, no, for decades, no, for over half a century I'd listen to industries, to ’What we are being told and sold’. Through my Onw experience but, at the age of 60, I learnt something new. Some of you may not want to hear that. But that's fine, you didn't stand at the exit, neither. For you, life still looks perfect as it feels and with all the lords help, may I wish for you it stays that way because I beg yo, you don't want to live through it.
At the age of 60, Italian Cuisine Chef rediscovers Food, the Real Food
Sounds cracy, doesn't it? For You, yes, not for me but. For me it makes complete sense and guess what? I can even feel it, on every inch of my body. I could tell a book here but then I wouldn't have material left for my book, So you need to wait a little, sorry. What I can tell you, though, I literally rediscovered food and life. I took a sharp U-turn and went back to our food grass-roots. If you' have any idea what we are being sold as food, and that includes even Organic (boy will I make myself some enemies here), you would stop shuffling that crap into your mouth, yesterday.
Though, I am still a baby on that. My research on all that is only 1 and a 1/2 years old now, although I live, eat, drink, sleep and dream research. It#&39;s such an eye - wide - opener, I wish I would have allowed myself to drop my ignorant food arrogance years earlier. But, it is never too late, right?.
Take it from someone who never was a friend of fruit or vegetables. Juice? Oh gosh, don't you have something to drink for me? But then again, got some Apple or Ornage Juice? Yay, give it to me. Yeah well, as I said, ignorant arrogance. That#&39; all history now and so is apple and orange juice. Now but it#&39; the most disgusting green vegetable juices and other vegetables. I can't get enough of that now. Sorry, big successful juice companies, whoever you may be, you gotta drink your sugar water killers yourself, now (oops, just added another few enemies).
What I'd come across, so far, on my endless research journey, is priceless.
...because you don't want to miss out on that. Anyway, for me it's priceless because I still live. Worth enough? With all that hidden, sometimes I'd almost prefer to say Forbidden knowledge, if you got that in, you just don#&39;t want to go back to your daily ritual customes. Life is so beautiful, let me tell you, but for the most of us we live in other's, which we adapt as our own then, shaddows. That is sad, really. With all that new knowledge at hand now I can truely say, I'm happy science and modern Western medicine know little about my disease. That gives me all the freedom, and inspiration, to keep focus on alternative, ancient traditions, methods which our early ancestors have used to heal themselves for thousands of years, somtimes, in most bizarre and hopeless seeming cases.
One Self-Healing method, however, I am a strong advocate of: "Juicing"
And Juicing, if done correctly, I will defend at anytime, let alone given the fact that I experience the power of juicing on myself. But my research has brought me to meat many other, all sharing the same experience, the self-healing power of juicing. Say whatever you want and surely the Pharma industry will do anything to kill me off, with help of their patsy, the truth suppressing government. They may want to stop me talking about but they never will be able to stop me from healing myself, naturally.
I am so greatful to the many people I met, who, through their input and expretise on that subject matter, all contributed towards my efforts in healing myself.
A Big Thank You
to all the people who helped me in my ongoing research who both inspired me and trained me as a crytical crytics,
- John Kohler
- Markus Rothkranz
- Medical Medium
- Joshua Rosenthal
- Joe Cross
- T. Colin Campbell
- Dr. Ellsworth Wareham
- Tylor Tolman
- Dr. Gundry
- Dr. Mercola
- Brian Clement, Ph.D., L.N.
- Dr. Joel Fuhrman
- JA Health Advocate
...and all the rest, the one I may have forgotten to add to the above list.