80% of heart attacks could be avoided by following these 5 simple steps

authoron

There are several factors associated with a person’s risk of a heart attack. This list includes lifestyle habits and family history.

A large study conducted in Sweden and published in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology in 2014 found that five specific lifestyle factors, such as a healthy diet, regular exercise and quitting smoking, can reduce the risk of a heart attack by a combined 80 percent.

Researchers at Stockholm’s Karolinska Institute wanted to discover what percentage of certain healthy habits, both individually and as a group, helped these people reduce their risk of heart attack.

How was the study conducted?
For the study, men aged 45 to 79 were enrolled in a study conducted in 1997. All were asked about daily activities, such as diet and information about their weight, family history of cardiovascular disease, and education.

Over an 11-year period, 20,721 men with no history of heart disease, diabetes or cancer were closely monitored.

The team found that five lifestyle habits contributed to heart attack prevention. Men who followed all five habits had the lowest risk, or an 80 percent reduction.

5 simple ways to reduce your risk of heart disease by 80 percent?

According to the study, here are five habits that helped participants reduce their risk of heart attack:

36 percent lower risk after quitting smoking
Smoking is a life-threatening habit and should be avoided.

In this study, men who had never smoked or at least quit smoking about two decades before the study began had a 36 percent lower risk of heart attack.

20 percent lower risk with a healthy diet
A healthy and mostly plant-based diet can reduce the risk of heart attack and other diseases such as cancer and diabetes.

Related Posts

Uncategorized

I Thought My Husband’s Tattoo Was Just a Random Woman Until I Met Her in Real Life From the first day I met my husband, I noticed he had a tattoo of a woman’s face on his shoulder. Not a name. Not a symbol. Not some vague artistic design that could mean anything. A full portrait. A young woman with soft eyes, dark hair, and this almost sad expression, like someone had captured her in the middle of a secret. At first, I didn’t ask. We had just started dating, and I was too embarrassed to bring it up. I didn’t want to sound jealous or insecure over a tattoo that had obviously been there long before me. But every time he wore a sleeveless shirt, or we went swimming, or he rolled over in bed, there she was. This woman I didn’t know, staring back at me from my boyfriend’s skin. Eventually, when we got more serious, I finally worked up the courage to ask. “”Who is she?”” He barely looked at the tattoo before shrugging. “”Nobody. Don’t worry about it.”” That answer should have bothered me more than it did, but I was young, in love, and desperate not to seem like the kind of girlfriend who made drama out of nothing. So I let it go. Then we got engaged. One night, while we were lying in bed, I traced my finger around the edge of the tattoo and said, half-joking, “”Okay, we’re getting married. You can finally tell me the truth. Who is this random woman on your shoulder?”” He laughed, but it sounded forced. Then he said, “”There’s no big story. My friend was learning how to do realistic tattoos years ago. He downloaded some random picture from the internet and needed someone to practice on. I let him use me.”” I remember staring at him, trying to decide if that was the stupidest explanation I’d ever heard or just the kind of stupid thing a young guy actually would do. In the end, I believed him. Or at least, I told myself I did. After we got married, though, the tattoo started to bother me more and more. I hated seeing another woman’s face on my husband’s body. I hated that he had no real explanation for it. I hated that every time I brought it up, he acted like I was being unreasonable. Eventually, I told him I wanted him to cover it. Not remove it. Not make some huge sacrifice. Just cover it with something else. Anything else. At first, he argued. Then he said he understood. Then he promised he would make an appointment. But somehow, there was always a reason he couldn’t. His tattoo artist was out of town. We didn’t have the money right then. He wasn’t feeling well. Work was too busy. He wanted to “”think about what design would look best.”” Months passed. Then years. The topic slowly died, not because I stopped caring, but because I got tired of feeling like I was begging my own husband to erase another woman from his skin. Eventually, I just got used to her. Until last week. I was out running errands in our hometown and stopped by the local bakery for coffee. It was crowded, and I almost turned around and left, but then the woman standing in line ahead of me turned her head slightly. And I froze. My whole body went cold. It was her. The woman from my husband’s shoulder. She was older now, maybe by ten or fifteen years compared to the tattoo, but there was no doubt in my mind. I had stared at that face for my entire marriage. I knew the shape of her eyes. The curve of her mouth. The small beauty mark near her jaw. It was her. My hands started shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone. For a few minutes, I just stood there, watching her order coffee like she wasn’t the face that had haunted my marriage for years. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I walked up to her. “”Excuse me,”” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “”This is going to sound really strange, but do you know a man named—”” And then I said my husband’s name. The woman’s face changed instantly. All the color drained from it. Her eyes widened, not in confusion, but in fear. She took one step back. ⬇️