Naturop Lifestyle

10/05/2025

I'm not a Beggar, I'm a Medical Student: 2️⃣

For hours I waited. Sitting under a tree, singing “Sitting at the feet of Jesus…” In Swahili it sounded even more comforting “Miguuuni pake Yesu, hapo napata nguvu.” I had missed my exams. My husband had no idea where I was!

I couldn’t call him. My phone only worked within WiFi range, and we didn’t yet have IDs to get a proper plan. In short, I was alone. Or so I thought.

When the gate finally opened, they waved me in and pointed to the back of a rather packaged construction double cabin. I climbed in quietly, tucking myself between tools and equipment. And then… my imagination betrayed me. I didn't know these two gentlemen. 💥💥Every serial killer movie I’d ever watched flashed in my mind. A rope—plastic, just like the kind we used back home for stubborn bulls. A spade. A short knife. A basin. Perfect crime kit, I thought. But I had no choice!

“Stop. Breathe. Isaiah 40,” I whispered to myself. ‘With my righteous right hand, I shall uphold you; do not be dismayed.’ Then I hummed, “Be not dismayed, whate’er betide, God will take care of you.”

The two Spanish men handed me a cold Gatorade. Their boss, a tall white man, gave me a water bottle and snacks and told them to update him on how it went. I had officially become the problem of an entire construction company—in America. He knew they had me. But so did God.

When we reached the car, my spirit lifted. Finally! I thought. They poured in the gas, tried the engine. Nothing. Again. Nothing. My heart sank. I walked back to the van, quietly defeated.

“Let’s go back to Tempe, get more gas,” one of them said. “Maybe the tank needs to be full.” We went back—another 15 minutes, another $18 gone, all I had left. Filled again. Tried again. Still dead. Darkness had fallen. It was past 7 p.m.

Yet the owner of the construction company was still on-site, waiting to hear if I’d been helped. When told the car still wouldn’t start, he joined the rescue mission himself—another truck, jumper cables, headlights flashing through the desert night. It was nolonger a Gas problem... It might be a battery problem 🤔

My problem, Corporate . The car... Farfro from ON...

08/21/2025

She Carried Books in One Hand, a Baby in the Other—And Still Dreamed

Some mornings, I wake up buried in notes on hormones, lab results, and how to build a business that heals women.
Other mornings, I wake up with a question I can’t shake:

“What comes after the 5 year medical degree?” After carrying books in one hand, a baby in one hand, a business in the back, the while pursuing a dream to become the doctor the underserved so much need?

Because I’m not just here to finish school.
I’m here to rewrite the story—for every African woman who’s ever been told to shrink.

I'm SuzzieB. I'm a Medical Student in the United States of America🇺🇸. I'm Kenyan born🇰🇪.
I’ve been a mother, singly taking care of kids because daddy is also in the grill. A student. A founder. A survivor. A leader.
But the name that keeps me grounded?

Visionary.

I didn’t grow up seeing wellness as wealth.
I saw women surviving.
I saw pain normalized.
I saw brilliance dimmed because no one had the language—or the space—to hold their truth.

And I said: never again.

So I started building.
No funding. No blueprint. No quiet room.
Just faith, Wi-Fi, and a baby who wouldn’t sleep through the night.

I failed some days.
Cried on others.
And passed exams they thought I couldn’t.

If I could whisper one thing to my younger self—the girl who thought being African, being a mother, being soft meant she had to work twice as hard to belong, I’d say:

Your struggle isn’t your shame.
It’s your training ground.
And sis, you’re passing every test.

I don’t want women to just heal.
I want them to rise.
To laugh again.
To lead out loud.
To know that their pain has a name—and their joy has a blueprint.

So if you're reading this with swollen eyes and tired bones;
Let me be your reminder:

You don’t need perfect conditions.
You just need one stubborn seed of belief.

Water it.
Study through the chaos.
Dream past survival.

Because one day, that little seed…
will bloom into shade, strength, and legacy;
for women you may never meet,
but who will rise because you didn’t quit.

Save this for your next hard day.
Tag the woman who always shows up—even when it’s heavy.
👣 Follow for fun😛

08/12/2025

Oh come Praise the Lord with me🙏🙏 Medical School Milestones🇺🇸🇺🇸
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

"Two hours of sleep. A screaming baby. Last min 'No babysitter', kids' school opening day. And I still scored 95% in Capstone."

Listen… if you’re a mom who’s ever thought, “I can’t do this right now,” this is for you.

Praise God.
I didn’t just pass Capstone.
I excelled.
78/82.
95%.

People fail Capstone.
And I get it. It’s brutal.
Even I doubted.

How was I gonna pass?
With my life? My chaos?
I wasn’t even asking for an A.
Just, “Lord… please just let me pass.”

I wasn’t confident either.
Baby decided that entire weekend—no sleep before 11 pm.
Wake-up call? 5:45 am.
That was my “study time window.”
Two hours of broken sleep… wedged between rocking a baby, memorizing flashcards, and whispering to God,
“Please… just let me pass.”

Capstone morning?
First day of school for the older kids.
Uniforms to iron. Breakfast to make. Lunchboxes to pack.
I’m halfway to the door when my babysitter cancels.
Five. Minutes. Before.

God sends my neighbor.
God keeps my hands steady when my phone buzzes mid-exam:
“Baby’s screaming.”
God dialed my focus so sharp it could cut glass.

Four weeks of relentless prep
Every basic biomedical science from two whole years of med school conceptualizeed into my brain.
And still… I was ready to settle for just passing, an A looked like an overreach to a girl from the village.

But God?
He doesn’t do “just enough.”
He multiplies.
He carries.
He hands you victory with your knees still shaking.

So to the mama reading this
Yes, your life is messy.
Yes, your plate is overflowing.
And yes, your dreams still matter.
You can do hard things.
And when you can’t—God can🧡

07/27/2025

So picture this—Sabbath , after church. I’m drained. Emotionally, mentally, academically. I’ve been studying like my future license depends on it (because it does), and life’s been so chaotic I actually canceled my kid’s birthday party. Mom guilt? Off the charts.

As I’m gathering my things to head home, one of my girlfriends casually says, “You’re not going home.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
She smiles, tosses me a bag and says, “You’re going on a date. With your man. We’ve got the kids. Don’t argue.”

That’s how I got hijacked into joy.

07/08/2025

06/10/2025

One Year Closer to Purpose - A Birthday

A birthday, for many, is cake and candles.
But for me? It’s something deeper.
It’s reflection.
On health.
On marriage.
On money lost and dreams buried.
On dreams reborn.

I remember my birthday three years ago.
I was pressing my abdomen in—to hide the bulging stomach from insulin resistance.
Trying to look “normal,” while fighting a war under my skin.

That same week, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life:
To leave my family behind in pursuit of a doctorate in the U.S.
To walk away from familiarity…
To chase a dream that cost more than just money—it cost me certainty, sleep, warm kisses of my toddler babies, and sometimes even hope.

I’d just lost my supplement store following Covid-19 and my prior travels overseas.
The doors closed not because I didn’t care—but because I didn’t have the letters behind my name yet.
No “Dr.” meant no credibility.
No path forward meant I had to dig one with bare hands.

And then came the emotional weight of trying for a baby.
Hormonal imbalance so bad I was told my “eggs had grown cold”—at 30😭😭.
No one talks about that.
No one prepares you for that kind of grief.

Add to that the $52,000 per year tuition bill staring us in the face.
We needed over $100,000 just to take a step of faith🙏🙏.
And I asked myself, What if I don’t try?
But even scarier: What if I don’t become who I was born to be?

So no—my birthday isn’t about turning a year older.
It’s about turning a page.
From buried dreams to bold purpose.
From hormonal mayhem to healing stories.
From metabolic shame to restored confidence.

I’m one year closer…
To serving menopausal women drowning in hot flashes and hidden pain.
To guiding young women whose waists have swallowed their confidence.
To showing up for men too ashamed to whisper the words “low testosterone” or “ED.”

I wasn’t just born.
I was born to serve.
And while I’m still on the way, I’m not where I used to be.
Partly served. Much more to offer.
A birthday isn’t the end of a year. It’s a testament to the battles won behind the scenes.

So today, I raise a quiet, grateful prayer:
Lord, bless this journey. Use me. Heal through me.
And yes…Happy, Birthday to me🌹

03/27/2025

5months pregnant ... All the health choices matter in pregnancy, for Mom, Babie😘 & baby😇
Tip- optimized (good bacteria) with a daily shot of

01/30/2025

Incase you didn't know why we need Robert F Kennedy Jr. incharge of health! It impacts us all in a way or two or three or "all". I begun with "Natural Health" my all-time fav😍

12/27/2024

Gentleman!!
Experienced erectile dysfunction atleast once in recent times? According to studies, that could be an indicator of an imminent heart attack in 5years.

Remedy: Increase Nitric Oxide intake by increasing nitrates sourced from Green Leafy Plants, yes, Plant-based diet.

Suzan N. Bitengo

12/27/2024

This practice will blow your mind away!

4-7-8 Breathing exercise. Know what it is? When you will, you won't need to drink down a bottle of wine or some sleep-aid tabs!

Suzan N. Bitengo

12/25/2024

Facts or Reality?