Diagnosed with chronic asthma at five years of age, my childhood was characterised by long periods of bed-rest, drugs and hospitals. I married Bill, and together we had to weather the storm of my increasing ill health. By my early thirties, I suffered regular chest infections and serious asthma attacks, necessitating frequent hospitalisation to save my life. My mother died at the age of 39 from an asthma attack, and it seemed I was heading the same way.
Sally-Ann Creed
Hospitalisation was part of our lives always followed by bed rest with antibiotics and cortisone. I often prayed God would take me home, as fighting for the next breath, my body would ache unbearably. I couldn’t lie down, and would have to sit upright for days at a time just to breathe - sleep was impossible. Asthmatic lungs are often scarred, enlarged or damaged. Bronchospasm and the production of sticky mucous hampers breathing. Weak lungs collapse, and weak hearts give in.
By my late thirties with my poor diet, bad management of my disease, and too many drugs, other problems arose. I developed an ulcer requiring medication, and serious sinus infections increased. I developed sinus “polyps” which are typically outgrowths of tissue which are an indication and result of allergy. I had many painful polypectomies during the next ten years. The mounting medication took its toll - when I had my first panic attack I didn’t know what had hit me. My heart felt as though it was going to explode and I thought I was going to die. Panic disorder was finally diagnosed, and continued for 13 long years with a host of accompanying drugs.
I was now taking 17 prescription drugs! The ENT confirmed the polyps had migrated into the upper sinus cavity above the eyes and the best he could offer was another more delicate, operation. The bone separating the brain from the sinus cavity is as thin as a piece of paper and if punctured, brain damage is certain, and death possible. The operation required intricate fibre-optic work by a highly trained specialist ENT. Prior knowledge that someone had recently been damaged in this way, risks involved and being a ninny into the bargain – I decided to ask God to help me instead. The ENT’s final words were “Sally-Ann, you are between a rock and a hard place.” My condition would just worsen and I’d live on cortisone and pain killers forever.
I discovered an alternate medical doctor, Dr Robbie Simons, who gave me a nutrition-based programme which I stuck to rigidly, and as my health improved so my desire for knowledge grew. I passionately read anything and everything concerning health. A year later, Robbie announced that he was going back to Australia. He had been my mentor urging me to study further and expand my knowledge, so I enrolled in an Australian college where I attained a Post-Graduate Diploma in Clinical Nutrition, and today my greatest joy is helping others to recover. I believe God is our only Healer, and in a spectacular way He used food to heal me. The fact that He chose to heal me through nutrition is no less miraculous to me than an instantaneous miracle. I am profoundly grateful that He chose this method because it kept me from continuing to eat in a foolish fashion, and he used my illness so I can now help others. I have since gone on to study Functional Medicine and a host of other science-based nutritional modalities and have found my calling, for which I am profoundly grateful.
