Type 2 Ain't My Type!: The True Story of My Divorce From Diabetes Using Food Fasting and Movement - Softcover

Inhaltsangabe

You got the call. A diagnosis, a prescription, and a pamphlet. Nobody gave you a plan.

Maybe your best day is a blood sugar under 200. Maybe you have been told this only gets worse. Maybe you lie awake doing the math on your feet, your eyes, your kidneys.

I know the feeling. I have been there.

I was diagnosed in 2017. I did what they told me. I took the medication, ignored the rest, and for five years I got worse. Metformin, then Glipizide, then insulin. Three drugs, and my numbers kept climbing. The math ain't mathin'.

In the summer of 2022, I woke up in a hospital bed with my blood sugar at 450. A nurse pushed insulin into my arm, then set down a tray with graham crackers and a can of soda. That was the moment it clicked. They were going to keep me on the leash for the rest of my life.

So everyone told me to manage it. I decided to divorce it.

I came off all three medications. All of them. At once. Cold. No taper, no doctor, no plan. Hear me on this: it was reckless and dangerous, and I am not telling you to do it. Coming off insulin and two more drugs like that can put you in a coma. It can kill you. Smart? Not even a little. But I was out of patience and out of hope, and desperation makes you do dumb, brave things.

A few weeks later my lab came back. 11.7. Life-threatening. A nurse called to tell me, dead serious, that I could not stop taking my medication. Too late. I already had. And I was not, repeat, NOT about to lose a toe over this. So I kept going.

I did not hire a nutritionist. I was broke. Like my body. I did not join a clinical trial. I watched YouTube, laced up my sneakers, and walked 18,000 steps to a Walmart in the Florida heat, fasting 20 hours along the way. By that afternoon my blood sugar had dropped over a hundred points. First day. That was my light at the end of the tunnel.

January 2024: 6.3. April 2025: 6.0. Today: 5.5. In remission, on zero diabetes medication, about three and a half years after that 11.7.

And I did not catch this early. I am nine years into this disease, and I spent the first five doing nothing but getting worse. My labs still turned around. If a voice says you waited too long, hear me: it is not too late for you.

I am not a doctor. I am not a guru. I am just a guy who got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Type 2 Ain't My Type is the raw, honest, sometimes funny true story of how I used food, fasting, and movement to look this disease in the face and say: you ain't my type. It is not another book that explains what is wrong and leaves you there. It is the plan. What I actually ate, when I ate it, and how I moved.

• The full A1C arc. Every real number.
• Exactly what I ate to start. The actual food, not "eat healthy."
• How to start fasting with Type 2 without passing out.
• Why movement was the piece other books skip.
• 15 toolkits that turn the story into a day-by-day plan.

• You got a pamphlet and a prescription and were told to "manage" it.
• You are tired of books that explain the why but never the how.
• You have been told you will be on medication for life.
• You want proof from a real person. I kept the lab reports.

This is the book I wish someone had handed me the day I was diagnosed.

Consistent persistence overcomes resistance. Every. Single. Time.

Read the story. Use the toolkits. Start today.

I am not a doctor and this is not medical advice. It is one man's documented story. Talk to your own doctor before you change your food, movement, or medication.

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