But I Drink Kale.

My 68-year-old father was recently put on a low-sodium diet by his cardiologist. The very next day, my cardiologist put me on a low-sodium diet. I'm not 68. I still pass for 28.

At first it was funny. Me? Me—the girl who eats mostly fruits, veggies, and no red meat. Me—the girl who only eats fried food once a month and only if it's off of somebody else's plate. Me—the girl with a sweet tooth but who can turn a half-inch square of chocolate into five bites. Me? But...I drink kale.

And then it wasn't funny. Me—the girl who loves cheese. Me—the girl who thinks a margarita without a salted rim is pointless. Me—the girl who adds salt to most things her boyfriend cooks. And, me—the girl who acts like she doesn't have a heart defect.

At first I freaked out. What could I eat? Even milk has sodium in it!

But, it's been over two weeks and we're doing great. We've stocked up on more fruits and veggies, having them washed and ready to eat to stave off the hanger. I found a permanent space on my counter for my scale and use an app to track my sodium. I weigh out pieces of cheese. I would have never thought to do that before, but one ounce of cheese actually goes pretty far. But before, I just grabbed a chunk and some crackers, not even considering the sodium or calories. It's about being mindful, not about cutting out deliciousness.

Through this experience, I've learned three things that are necessary to dealing with this new challenge.

1. I have a ton of support. Luckily I fell in love with a man who loves to cook and was making low-sodium meals far before this mandate (which I, of course, immediately salted). But, even without him, I would turn to support groups or online forums to help. Even finding low-sodium blogs immediately lifted my spirits.
2. We get a little adventurous. It's easy to get in a rut, to limit yourself into boredom. But, we're cooking up recipes everyday that require salt. We just cut it down to about a tenth and see what happens. Or nix it all together. If it comes out terrible, I just melt an ounce of mozzarella on top.
3. And finally, I keep my eye on the silver lining. Sure, the good thing about this is that my liver and heart will be happy. But… I can't see my liver or heart, so it's hard to stay focused on that. What I can see? A shrinking belly. *high five for unintended weight loss* Also—I can still eat chocolate. I mean, why else do I get out of bed every morning?

One day, years from now, I'll be eating a delicious homemade pizza with fresh tomatoes, tons of garlic, low-sodium goat cheese and a dash of parmesan and think, why did I ever worry?