TESTIMONY. CANCER IS REVERSIBLE
3.07am. 26th October 2012 ;eve of Eid-ul-Adha.
Having boiled the tenggiris for tomorrow's menu , discovered this article on one of the Blue-zones. Here, the people live up to a hundred years old and more and in good health.
Having boiled the tenggiris for tomorrow's menu , discovered this article on one of the Blue-zones. Here, the people live up to a hundred years old and more and in good health.
The Island Where People Forget to Die
Andrea Frazzetta/LUZphoto for The New York Times
One day in 1976, Moraitis felt short of breath. Climbing stairs was a
chore; he had to quit working midday. After X-rays, his doctor concluded
that Moraitis had lung cancer. As he recalls, nine other doctors
confirmed the diagnosis. They gave him nine months to live. He was in
his mid-60s.
Moraitis considered staying in America and seeking aggressive cancer
treatment at a local hospital. That way, he could also be close to his
adult children. But he decided instead to return to Ikaria, where he
could be buried with his ancestors in a cemetery shaded by oak trees
that overlooked the Aegean Sea. He figured a funeral in the United
States would cost thousands, a traditional Ikarian one only $200,
leaving more of his retirement savings for his wife, Elpiniki. Moraitis
and Elpiniki moved in with his elderly parents, into a tiny, whitewashed
house on two acres of stepped vineyards near Evdilos, on the north side
of Ikaria. At first, he spent his days in bed, as his mother and wife
tended to him. He reconnected with his faith. On Sunday mornings, he
hobbled up the hill to a tiny Greek Orthodox chapel where his
grandfather once served as a priest. When his childhood friends
discovered that he had moved back, they started showing up every
afternoon. They’d talk for hours, an activity that invariably involved a
bottle or two of locally produced wine. I might as well die happy, he
thought.
In the ensuing months, something strange happened. He says he started to
feel stronger. One day, feeling ambitious, he planted some vegetables
in the garden. He didn’t expect to live to harvest them, but he enjoyed
being in the sunshine, breathing the ocean air. Elpiniki could enjoy the
fresh vegetables after he was gone.
Six months came and went. Moraitis didn’t die. Instead, he reaped his
garden and, feeling emboldened, cleaned up the family vineyard as well.
Easing himself into the island routine, he woke up when he felt like it,
worked in the vineyards until midafternoon, made himself lunch and then
took a long nap. In the evenings, he often walked to the local tavern,
where he played dominoes past midnight. The years passed. His health
continued to improve. He added a couple of rooms to his parents’ home so
his children could visit. He built up the vineyard until it produced
400 gallons of wine a year. Today, three and a half decades later, he’s
97 years old — according to an official document he disputes; he says
he’s 102 — and cancer-free. He never went through chemotherapy, took
drugs or sought therapy of any sort. All he did was move home to Ikaria.
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