Best wishes to Charlie Martin. I predict it will work.
For what it’s worth, my dad died at fifty-five, a third of a century ago, in large part due to criminal dietary advice (OK, maybe that’s a little too strong — they probably knew no better) and my mother at sixty-eight to a massive heart attack in the night, in her sleep. At least for her, it was fast. And in both cases they were overweight smokers, a product of their generation.