A few years ago, I got sick. Not the kind of sick where you have the flu and spend a few days on the couch watching television. The kind where your body stops cooperating, doctors can't tell you why, and you begin questioning whether you're somehow making the whole thing up. The frustrating part is that I actually had a pretty good idea what was wrong.

I had my gallbladder removed years ago. The surgeon told me that someday I might develop bile issues because, without a gallbladder, the bile has nowhere to go except directly into the digestive system. For more than a decade, I had no problems at all.

Then one day I did.

I couldn't keep food down. My stomach constantly hurt. I was exhausted all the time. Foods that had never bothered me suddenly became a problem. I lost weight, which sounds great until you're losing muscle, too. Trust me, if you have even a tiny bit of vanity—and I have more than a tiny bit—watching your muscle disappear is a serious ego crusher.

I went from doctor to doctor.One told me it was unresolved childhood trauma. Nope, not that! I know my childhood trauma. You can't grow up with a sibling struggling with drug addiction and not know what trauma looks like. I've dealt with those issues. I've worked through those issues. That wasn't it.

Another doctor said IBS. I considered that at first. Except nothing they prescribed worked. And they prescribed a lot. And changing my diet, which was limited at best already, didn't help either.

I kept telling doctors I thought the issue was bile and an irritated gut. I said it repeatedly. Nobody seemed interested in hearing my theory. In fact, they said, "Bile isn't an issue." Even though they were GI NP's and knew I didn't have a gallbladder.

What?

After a while, I started questioning myself. Maybe I didn't know my own body. Maybe I was wrong.

Finally, I went to the GI surgeon. Multiple tests later, it turned out I was right. (And he was shocked his NP said it wasn't possible to have a bile issue without a gallbladder.)

The surgeon prescribed medication. The medication helped. He wanted me to take it every day for the rest of my life. But a big nope again. I took it once.

Here's the thing. By then, I'd already been diagnosed with high blood pressure and high cholesterol. Those diagnoses frustrated me because I'd lived a reasonably healthy life. I exercised. I ate fairly well. I wasn't sitting on the couch eating doughnuts all day. And suddenly I had medications for one thing, medications for another thing, and recommendations for additional medications.I looked at my future and thought, absolutely not. I refused to become my mother, taking one prescription that requires another prescription to handle the side effects of the first prescription.

So I started making changes. I returned to the gym. I prioritized protein. I lowered my fat intake because fat aggravated my stomach. I cut back on carbohydrates, even healthy ones, because many of them tore my gut apart. I became very careful about what I ate.

Slowly, I began feeling better.

Then I added BPC-157, a peptide that's believed to support healing and tissue repair, particularly in the gut and connective tissues. Research is still limited, but for me, it made an enormous difference. Within a relatively short period of time, my stomach issues disappeared.

My workouts improved. My energy came back. Today, I'm off my cholesterol and blood pressure medication. In fact, my blood pressure got so low while taking medication that I literally struggled to stay awake while writing. My average blood pressure now runs around 106/67.

The only prescription medication I currently take is HRT. And honestly, I won't live without that. Neither will my husband. Or the strangers I encounter in public. God only knows who I'd become without it.

I've never felt better.

I truly believe that healing the gut is one of the keys to overall health. Once my digestive system improved, everything else improved with it. I sleep well. I have energy. I can eat foods that once caused problems. I don't deal with constant bloating anymore.

Looking back, I think the bile had irritated my digestive system for so long that my gut simply couldn't heal.

These days, I work out six days a week. I protect my sleep as if it's the golden ticket, because honestly, it is.

I wear a WHOOP, which tracks things like sleep, recovery, strain, resting heart rate, and heart rate variability. Last week we traveled, which completely threw me off. My recovery numbers dropped, and my biological age increased.

Rude.

But overall, my numbers continue to improve.

I drink a protein coffee every morning that I make myself. I use our infrared sauna. I use red light therapy. I walk daily. I get sunlight every day. Years ago, I would have rolled my eyes at half of these things. Turns out I was wrong. I don't do high-intensity workouts because women my age don't need extra cortisol. I lift weights. I walk. I recover. I cycle a few different peptides. One for inflammation. One for repair. One for collagen support. I'm adding healthy carbohydrates back into my diet, although I've learned that I'm sensitive to them, so I'm careful.

As women approach sixty, I think we have to change how we care for ourselves. What worked at thirty often doesn't work at sixty. Recovery, sleep, protein, reducing stress. It all matters. At almost sixty years old, I'm at the lowest weight I've been in years while carrying the most muscle.

And it shows. I feel strong. I feel healthy. I feel capable.

I don't take any of it for granted because I know exactly what it feels like to lose your health.

Sixty really is the new forty.

And this November, when I hit that number, I plan to hit it like a tornado.