My Story

As early as I can remember, I’ve always been the sick child in my family. My parents were often annoyed at how many doctor visits I had accumulated throughout the years, always in for one health problem or another. We only knew to trust the family MD to hold my symptoms to a minimum, which seemed to work for the first 16 or 17 years. Thankfully my semi-annual bronchial asthma attacks became more manageable through evolving pharmaceutical technology. The first attack, being one of my earliest childhood memories, landed me in the hospital where I literally felt like I was going to die. At about three years of age, I returned home with a few drugs and an increasingly weak stomach whose contents made it to the couch before I did. From this horrific hospital experience I learned that there was something wrong with me, which caused me to become debilitatingly ill about two times a year. I would miss school for two weeks at a time, while lying at home coughing up phlegm and vomiting after any attempt to eat.

And so I learned quickly that being sick was no fun. Aside from the crippling seasonal bronchitis, I seemed to be a target for recurring ear infections, common colds, intestinal cramping, chronic headaches, and an overreactive immune system which had me receiving frequent inoculations of synthetic cortisol from the general practitioner by the time I was 18. If my physical ailments weren’t enough, I also suffered from increased irritability and ‘Type A’ personality, with mild bouts of depression that seemed to come and go. I was a fairly easy person to get along with, but I definitely had my own internal struggles. As my close childhood friends can testify, I was more of a hermit and spent the majority of my time alone, listening to music or taking things apart in my room. I would be around people when I wanted, but usually found comfort in solitude, preoccupied with gadgets and ideas. Then the time came for me to serve a full-time mission for my church in Mexico; and that’s where all the real fun started.

When young men in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints turn 19, they are expected to leave home for two years in the service of their church and God. This is a great experience that teaches these high school graduates about the difficulties and satisfactions in life via hard work, obedience, and service to others. Unfortunately, nutrition is not placed in high priority and medical care is scary to say the least. I contracted parasites one week, amoebas another week, food poisoning on several occasions, and diarrhea during my free time. Not to leave any empty spaces, I also had gas throughout the two years-- kind of like the mortar to keep the bricks of bowel disturbances from going anywhere. One night I woke up with the most horrible pain I had ever experienced, leaving me crippled for the next few hours as I managed to shuffle my aching body far enough across the dusty floor past the cockroaches and onto the back porch, where I became well acquainted with the cracks in the adjacent wall, concentrating so carefully whilst expelling the previous 19 years’ worth of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The dessert, naturally, was saved for the toilet after my two hour vomit episode. With my upper GI tract in the grass and my lower GI tract in the commode, I was ready to start the day on the right foot. Except I began my bright morning with a sinus infection unlike any other sinus infection. I saw the local doctor in our small shoe-making village of Ticúl, Yucatán, who put me on a heavy dose of antibiotics. This sounded like a great idea... and why shouldn’t it have? It killed the infection and it was cheap, taking care of my two biggest concerns at the time. What I didn’t know then was that antibiotics screw up your immune system because they slaughter ALL the bacteria in your system, leaving the yeast and ultimately bad bacteria to overpopulate the colon if you don’t eat well. Which I didn’t. So the rest of my mission I spent dealing with monthly colds and infections, constipation, fatigue, and horrible gastric indigestion. And I just thought I was special.

Well, it turns out I am special. After drinking baking soda after every meal to keep my stomach acid from dissolving the bulk of my esophagus, I was fortunate enough to reverse the damage before it was too late upon my arrival home. I sprinted to the health food stores as soon as I stepped off the airplane back to Bentonville, Arkansas. I began a week-long search for answers to my digestive problems with certain known clues- such as bread giving me heartburn, and that vegetables were much better tolerated. Of course I was inclined to believe in vegetarianism, as my mother claims a high honor for not having consumed any meat products in several years, and the literature seemed rather convincing. Something deeper inside of me knew that this wasn’t all though, especially since the veggie books claimed that whole grain breads and pastas were also crucial to good health- something I instinctively knew better than to believe. Then finally I thumbed through a white hard-covered book with black and red lettering whose title read Eat Right for Your Type written by Dr Peter D’Adamo. “Interesting” I thought to myself. “Four blood types, four diets... sounds logical. I wonder what it says about Type O. I’m pretty sure I’m type O.” When I opened the book to the O section, I immediately sensed something profound. One of the first things I noticed was that wheat was an avoid for O’s, meaning that it acts like a poison in the body. “This doctor D’Arco or D’Amado or whoever”, I thought to myself, was the first person I’d ever heard to acknowledge that, perhaps not everyone, but that certain people shouldn’t eat bread. Bingo. So I did what any good Y generationist would do and bought a used copy on amazon.com for $6 plus shipping.

The reason I claim ‘special’ honor is due to my genetics. I learned through Dr D’Adamo’s writings and subsequent laboratory testing that I am a “non-secretor”, which just means that I don’t secrete my blood type into the rest of my body. (You can tell what most peoples’ blood types are by collecting a saliva or sweat sample because blood type is just a sugar that ‘secretes’ itself into these mucous glands.) I fall into a class of only about 10% of the US population who are deficient in the gene FUT-2 on chromosome 19 (fancy, huh?) which makes us “non-secretors”. This is significant because it helps to explain my many childhood woes and disease susceptibility. The thing is, non-secretors are the ones who end up at the doctor’s office and never seem to get better. Not having your blood type all over your body actually means you’re practically defenseless from the outside. It’s like a missing shield that makes it easier to get infections and recurring health problems- something I was very familiar with. That would also clarify my medical anomaly so distinct from the rest of my siblings, who are six boys. Why was I always sick, and everyone else got to be healthy? As very well may be the case, I am the only non-secretor in my family. I would have to test everyone to be certain, but for the time being I am fairly confident of my speculation. So what about my health problems... how did they improve? Well I’m glad you asked.

I immediately began following the Type O diet; and although I didn’t know if I was O positive or negative, it turns out that the Rh factor (+/-) is irrelevant from a nutritional standpoint. It turns out everyone in my family is O, so I was safe with my decision. I anxiously jumped into the diet, and almost instantly noticed a difference.

One of the very first things to take me by surprise was that meat didn’t give me instant heartburn like most other foods did. I ate almost a pound of ground beef just to see what would happen. Much to my surprise, I felt OK. No instant gastric flares, no esophageal incineration. My usual symptoms returned later, but held by a surprising delay. I realized that it would take time to repair the years of digestive damage, but at least for the first time I felt a nudge of hope.

What came as the biggest surprise was that my new diet was helping me to feel better in ways that I never would have expected. Within the first few days, I started to wake up without a pound of mucous in my head. My morning routine my entire life was composed of idle transition from asleep to awake, usually lasting an hour or so... almost like a daily hangover. After I started the diet, I could actually begin the day as soon as I got out of bed. I could think more clearly, I could breathe better, and my body didn’t ache all over. I felt like shouting out the window, “Hey! People! Did you know you can wake up without pain??” I thought I had stumbled upon some great Tibetan secret. I found a book of magic spells, and people would murder for this information. (As it turns out, I sadly came to realize, most people don’t really care that much. After all, it’s hard enough to simply limit how much you eat; and now you have to control what you eat? Ridiculous. Humans are invincible, and nobody tells me what to do. Honey, where’s the remote...)

The rest is history, really. After disposing of all my inhalers and sinus medication, I moved to Austin, TX where I worked for a sister company of AMD computers, manufacturing silicon wafers that would end up in your cell phone. I consider that year in Texas my recovery time. I was lucky to have a job that didn’t involve a lot of social interaction or demanding labor, which was exactly what I needed while my digestive problems met their doom. I could clock in, put on my fancy clean room suit, do the job, and clock out. Number of sick days taken that year: 0. It was a lifetime record.

So by the time I started school at BYU-Idaho I was ready to take on a new world of living; one that involved people. I surprised myself how social I became. I made friends almost daily, and found that life is so much more satisfying when you’re surrounded by peers instead of nurses and hypodermic needles.

Although I am no longer a member of the Mormon church, I do look back at my difficult experiences with a dose of gratitude. If I hadn’t suffered the adverse health conflicts I did, I don’t know that I would have been so motivated to try a new diet and seek for real answers.

Three years of the Blood Type Diet had put me in the best shape of my life. I could tell anyone from then on with exuberant confidence that I no longer suffered from indigestion, allergies, bronchial asthma, emotional problems, or anything that my past reminded me of. I lost a few pounds of fat and steadily gained muscle weight. Headaches that once were a daily companion became a rare phenomenon. And most importantly, I had gained a whole new depth of expression- Vitamin “E” as Dr D’Adamo says. I learned to feel happy just to be alive; to interact, to socialize, to empathize- things that are very hard to do when your body is only running on fumes.

I’d become so passionate about Dr D’Adamo’s work that I made a personal commitment to spend the rest of my life spreading the knowledge. I feel like I’ve taken my share and cheated the system sufficiently, and now it’s time to give back. I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to attend two Institute for Human Individuality (IƒHI) conferences and meet Dr D’Adamo in person. To thank him and shake his hand was only a dream until then. After studying the blood type research, spending hours on the D’Adamo on-line forums, and making the trips to hear ‘Dr D’ lecture in person, I felt like I had been to Mt. Sinai and back. Except my ascent to the peak only made me realize that there is still so much more to learn.

I have since certified as a Master of the Institute for Human Individuality (MIƒHI), which entitles one to teach publicly about the Blood Type Diet and its associated implications. I transferred from BYU to Boise State University, where I finished my Associate’s degree.

Shortly thereafter I realized my passion for filmmaking, and started my production company, Sunmor Productions, Inc. As of now, I am currently producing a feature documentary about the Blood Type Diet, which is due for completion in 2013.

Like the old saying - that you don’t appreciate something until it’s been taken away - If your health is gone, nothing else really matters. On the other hand, good health is your greatest asset. Food is your investment, and your return measures far beyond any fiscal value.

You can live, or you can really live. Thanks to the Blood Type Diet® I was able to make that decision.