HCG Prep

This will be my sixth round; I'd say that qualifies me as an expert. Along the way, I've learned a few things (firstly, not to do four rounds in a year). I'll start in about two weeks. This time I am again doing a long cycle (cringe, groan, wail). But I'm only doing one a year now, and I'm NOT having surgery in 2013 (Hear me, universe?) to mess it up.

So for now, I'm doing a few things to make it easier over the long winter.

• I'm drinking a lot of water.
• I'm taking vitamins.
• I'm using a lot of lotion now. One of the awful side effects is your hands get so dry, they can split and bleed. Especially in the winter. No fat in the diet, and there's fat in lotion so you can't use it. I'm trying to get my skin plumped up now.
• I'm getting back on the wagon and getting off the scarbs now. The first time, the very first time, I tried the diet I had to abort the mission and try again in a month. The carb crash was too severe. The full week up to my diet I'll go all but scarb free (but normal portions).
• I'm getting my paperwork together and making my shopping list. Costco is VERY helpful if one is going to do HCG. Bless them, they have individually frozen chicken breast and white fish portions in just the right ounces. They also have bulk asparagus and BIG boxes of apples. Saves money and hassle.
• I'm stocking up on holiday flavored teas (Celestial Seasonings). I know, it's pathetic and sad, but having specially flavored tea HELPS, especially as I drink about 10 cups a day of tea when I'm on the program.

So, when the time comes, I should be as ready as I can be.  There you have it!  Sandra's guide to HCG prep.  Suitable for framing.

The show must go on, I guess

I had to sing today.  Ok, I had to attempt and/or pretend to sing today.  My mermaid friend asked me to fill in leading hymns as she's off in Atlantis for awhile.  Touchy timing for me since I just got The News but a few days ago.

Really, I've never leaned into the mic to lead hymns anyway.  Still, it's a raw nerve for me.  I've had more than enough experience in leading music, however, and I'm sure nobody knew I couldn't sing worth a damn.  I get to a certain note and Game Over.

I am going to cowboy up and call that voice teacher I know.  Part of me is afraid that she'll say, "Eh, no.  Sorry.  You're done."  But there's only one way to find out, right?

Less

As the year winds down and the new one is rounding third and headed for home, like many people, I find myself thinking over my life: what’s working, what’s not, what happened over the last year, what may happen next year.

I’m a resolution maker. I do it every year, except I call it an Action Plan. While they’re pretty cool, and I often achieve at least some of what I hope, there’s always things I can’t achieve; things that are out of my control.

With that in mind, this year, I’m taking a different tack. What I find myself wanting, more than anything else, is less. Less fat, less debt, less junk, less conflict (both within and without). Just…less.

That’s what I’m going to focus on this year, not a specific course of hoops I must jump through; just a general direction where I’d like to wind up.

And the beauty part of it is? The less I have, the more I’ll gain. With less distraction and hassle, I’ll have more time and space for the things I truly care about.

So for this year, I intend to live the motto: less is more. I wish you less in the year to come.

My medical day

Well, in a nutshell: it wasn't fun.  As I discovered, MRIs are better in Arizona. It'd been awhile since I had one in a "regular" hospital, and I didn't like it.  There's a certain smell.  It's part rubbing alcohol, part something else, wish I knew.  But whenever I smell it, I have a visceral reaction born of too many hospital stays and bad experiences.  There was a lot of that smell yesterday.

And, they were late.  Very late.  My family dropped me off, with the plan of meeting me at my next appointment (with the ENT) upstairs.  The radiology folks were nice, but they didn't let me have my book while waiting (once I finally got back there and in the ill fitting scrubs) and they made me sit up a lot.  And do keep in mind, I woke up with a cold virus on Christmas, so I'm already not at my best.

Anyway, they got to me when they could.  I was fretting at this point because they were SO late I was in danger of being late for my next appointment upstairs (I had scheduled it with a LOT of time between).  And then, they injected me with the sludge (they call it contrast) for the second half of the MRI.  Ugh.

Eventually I was done.  They did call up and tell my ENT I'd be late.  I found my family upstairs and we waited awhile to get with my ENT.  I got back there and met with the very fun and cunning voice therapist who got up to speed on my last year.

And then the hell started.

Having a scope pushed through my nose and down my throat (those who know me likely know of my gagging prowess).  My sinuses are a bit swollen, and they're small to begin with (my jolly ENT commented on how that's gotta hurt--aye, a lot).  And I gagged.  I gagged a lot.  I tried to fight back the panic reaction of having a tube down my throat, but it wasn't easy.  Tears streamed down my face.  I did my best; we got through it.  They are very nice and I like them a lot.

But the news is not good.  It's not good in the way it kept me up last night: they say the damage to my left vocal cord is permanent.  I got to see it on "tv" and watch how it just doesn't do its job all the way.  I said, hopefully, "It's like a muscle, right?  I can build it up?"  They said, sadly, "No, it's a nerve."  They showed me how when I sing lower notes, it works fine, but it's the higher notes, the cords just don't do it all the way.  It's not a pretty sight.  I told them I wanted to work with a singing coach I knew and they said that'd be good. 

He also said he could do surgery.  They'd cut throough my neck (my thyroid cartilage) and put a little block there and it might, MIGHT fix it.  Maybe.  Eh...pass.  I just can't see it.

I left feeling dejected, sore, sick from the cold and the sludge.  I tried to tell myself--and anyone listening--how the doctors don't know everything, that they could be wrong, and maybe I'll be able to sing "the same" again.  I sort of believed it, too.

Until the middle of the night, when I couldn't sleep, and stared out the window mourning the very real possibility I have to give up on something else I really care about.

Happy Holidays!

I hope you're enjoying them, wherever you are and whatever you do.  This Christmas, I woke up with a cold!  Clearly, that's not what one hopes to find in their stocking.  Even so, our holidays have been very nice.

Today we head to Seattle (colds and all) for me to have two medical appointments, one with the throat guy to see if my vocal cord is still partially paralyzed, or not (yeah, they said I could come with the cold!) and another MRI on my back.  Whee!

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the Superdoc.  She conclusively ruled out Cushing's as a root cause of my weird health issues.  She said I do have higher than normal cortisol, but so does everybody in chronic pain.  I asked her why I had so many symptoms on the Cushing's checklist and she said they're not exclusive to Cushing's. 

What I learned from Superdoc:

• I don't have Cushing's.
• They don't know what I do have.
• Some people, like me, they can neither figure out nor treat
• That fact sucks for both me, and them.  ;)

She said, ultimately, it's better to stay heavy than to lose a lot and gain it back (plus more).  She had a suggestion of a medication I could try, but it would have temporary results (if any), for both the pain and the weight.  Not super interested in that, as it has both side effects and is temporary. 

Her final and best advice: eat as healthy as I can, exercise as best I can with the spinal and pain issues, and hope for the best.

I've been asked, "Well, what are you doing to do now?"  I had to sit with it for awhile.  It was kind of disappointing (not that I wanted Cushing's, but I wanted a diagnosis and a plan).  I'm back where I started, weird health problems, too much weight, and a lot of pain; all dressed up and nowhere to go.

But, I do have a plan, of sorts.  I'm going to do one long session of the hcg (yes, again).  I'm hoping with NOT having surgery, I won't trip off another rapid weight gain cycle.  Yeah, the long sessions are hard, but I may be able to lose 30# (again, same pounds).  So, one deep dive, then I want to lie on the beach for awhile.  No surgery.  No invasive tests or treatments.  Just focus on good health and let surgery free time (I've had 10 surgeries in 11 years) do its work, both physically and emotionally.

That's my plan.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we go to the big city for my Cushing's evaluation.  Frankly, I'm expecting another dead end, despite what seems to be obvious to me when I fill out the symptom checklist from the doctor.  It's something, that's for sure, but what?  I don't test typical anything on tests, ever. 

On the plus side of the dreaded doctor visit, we're meeting friends for a visit and seeing the King Tut exhibit.  It's a lot to ask of my body, but totally worth it.  I'll be a quivering mass of pain Thursday, but a happy one.

Could have done without that

Our truck, which Mark drives, and we've only had a couple of years (and we took good care of) had a sudden, catastrophic illness and has been sent home to die (no warning blown headgasket).  The multiple levels of badness, I can't even express to you.  The big ones are money and time.  Mostly money.

We don't have it in our budget to replace a vehicle.  Especially one we only bought a couple of years ago.  Yeah, it's not a new vehicle, but still: this sucks.

And we live rurally.  We need two vehicles.  Mark's and Anna's schedules often are at odds.  And he works nights.  Like I can leave my sleeping little girl and go pick him up at midnight?  Nothing about that works for us, including my spine.

A friend's mom has loaned us her car, but we need to get that back to her stat.  We really use a truck, with dogs, firewood, dump trips, lawn mowing, the furniture business, etc.

We're going to get another opinion, but even so.  This problem is made up of the two things we lack: money, and time.  And speaking of time, the timing of this unforeseen issue SUCKS.

So, I was up at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday worrying about it.  I'm trying not to.  But it's not helping.

T Minus One Month

Well, it's about a month 'til I start my next round of hcg dieting.  Fun!  Last year, I did a short session (3 weeks, plus stabilization of 3 weeks).  So, yeah, six weeks.  This time, I'm doing the full monty: 7+ weeks plus 3 weeks stabilization).  Yep, 10-11 weeks.  Not as fun, but bigger results.

The holidays are not being kind to my waistline.  Ah, well.  In for a penny....

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we're heading to the big city (or near it) to get my HCG potion.  That means it's really going to happen again, huh?  This will be the sixth round.  Sadly, I'm at the weight I was after the first round was over.  How lame is that?

I gained it back (again and again) mostly because of surgeries, once because my doctors gave me bad advice: four cycles in a year is WAY too much, especially with my history of thus far inexplicable rapid weight gain cycles (those are so not fun).

I am feverishly hoping this time, having no surgeries scheduled and it being just one cycle in a year, that my body will accept the lower weight and just chill.  It better, as I'm going to do a long cycle and those SUCK.  If you're interested in the HCG diet, don't believe the hype that says you won't feel hungry, you'll feel good, and you'll lose 1-2 pounds per day.  None of that is true.

But for me, it's been the only way to get any off at all, though, as Isildur said in Lord of the Rings, "I buy it with great pain."  Even so, thinking that in a couple of months, I'll be down quite a bit again makes me smile.  Thinking of my cracked and bleeding hands (no lotion of any type allowed on the diet--in the winter) does not.

The holidays

A little late, but Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.  I hope you had a pleasant day, however it shaped up.  :)

Pretty mellow day here.  We cooked, and cooked, and had my dad and his two sweet pups over mid-afternoon.  We had a fire.  Anna and my dad played chess.  We took a walk after dinner.  It was nice.

Hope you have a great holiday season!

It sounds whiny...

...but I don't mean it that way.  It's just that it's occured to me that I really can't remember, in any kind of tangible way, what it feels like to be "just" tired.  Yeah, I'm tired.  Most of the time, actually.  But because of my weird health issues, I'm in pain all the time.  All.  The.  Time.  It's hard to imagine, isn't it?

It is.  Even for me.

Let's see....

Two days of scrab free.  I'm going to go weigh now and see if yesterday netted any further progress.  Wait for it....be right back....

Stupid time for the battery to die on my scale!

So, never mind.  As you were....

Post steak day aftermath

Feeling better today, though hungry.  Had a whopper of a headache last night; sugar detox, I expect.  So far today I'm scarb free.  I'm hoping perhaps for more weight loss tomorrow.

Lame steak day

I've had awesome results in the past; not this time.  :(  Why?  Donno.  But it was a whole lot of discomfort for very little result.

Not enjoying the steak day

As weird as that sounds... It's misleading, really.  If one got to eat steak all day, not so bad.  But starving all day, eating a steak and apple, then being hungry a couple of hours later and then the rest of the day...  Anyway, I made it 'til dinner; it was a near thing.  I didn't get shaky, but felt weak as a kitten on Valium.

Now I have a headache; probably sugar detox.

Tomorrow I hope to find it was worth it, and be back in the Decade Above X.

Now I've got to haul my headache into the kitchen and clean up.  Thankfully, I have a little more energy now that I ate; not much, though.  Still feeling pretty wiped out.

Tomorrow a friend is having me over for tea.  I'm looking forward to it!

Steak Day

Well, I forgot how much these suck!  I'm not sure I'll make it.  Before, generally when I did them, I'd have had no scarb (simple carb/aka sugar) for a long time, so my blood sugar would usually make it at least until 4:00.  Today, not so sure.  So if I end up with violently shaking hands before late afternoon, I may have to abort the mission.  For now, I'm on an herbal tea IV.

Probably not the best day for me to have given four tubes of blood at the hospital, yes?  But I'm trying to divide and conquer.  This was the most, er, convenient day to do one; and with my weight continuing to creep up, I'm trying to do something to stop it, or at least slow it.  I finished the last of the cortisol tests (save one more midnight saliva test coming up tonight--which only takes a few minutes) this morning.  That required running in to the hospital.

So after tomorrow morning, when I can mail all my remainig stuff in, I can chill out a bit--at least until my pending doctor visits (one in November, two in December).  Answers?  Yes, please. 

Steak Day

It's been a long time, but I'm going to do one.  Ok, I'm planning to do one on Wednesday.  The weight keeps creeping up there (I thought I had stabilized.).  So I hope it stops it, and yes, takes a bit off.  I hate them.  Steak/apple days are only ok during the 15 minutes it takes you to eat your dinner.  The rest of the day stinks.

I take some comfort as my pants get steadily tighter that in January, I'll be stopping and reversing.  It's lame it requires such extreme and uncomfortable action on my part, but at least, for awhile, my weight goes down, not up.

It's also a good opportunity to detox and reset eating habits.  It's a very long 10 weeks, though (especially the seven on the no-food diet).  I even consider that a blessing.  Unlike most Americans, I can say, I really DO know what it's like to be starving for weeks and months on end.  But I do know my situation (when there) is temporary, and my choice, however unpleasant it is.

Getting to the end...

...of my tests.  One more series and then I ride out three more doc visits (barring any unforeseen illness) over the course of the next six or seven weeks left of the year.  One with the HCG doc near Tacoma (she moved).  One with the pituitary/endocrine doc in Seattle.  One with the throat guy. 

My singing voice hasn't come back since I recovered from that insane bout of laryngitis.  They'll do the awful testing (nothing says fun like a tube down your nose and throat).  I'm hoping to hear the residual vocal cord paralysis is gone and I just need some exercises.  I LOVE to sing.  It's been difficult to not be able to do it properly.  Having a loss of vocal command and pitch control, let alone stamina, makes me very sad.  It was one thing I could do no matter what the rest of my body did.  Yep, makes me sad.

Looks like the HCG will launch in January.  Last time I did a short (3 week) cycle, which went perfectly.  This time, I'm going for the long one again (7 weeks).  It's tough, but it's what's worked.  I hope with no pending surgeries we can keep the progress going and not gain it back again.

I'm still 40# less than when I started this craziness nearly 3 years ago.  While that's fine and nice, at one point, I had lost 100#.  Yes, indeed.  That was better.

Tests and hcg prep

I'm working on the sets of tests to be done before my appointment with the big brain doc in Seattle.  Rather a pain, but worth if it we get any useful information.  It's a no-brainer I'm tired of doctors telling me that my symptoms and problems are weird and well, sorry, we just don't know.  I suppose I'm not really holding my breath that this time will be any different; I can wish, though. 

It's hard to face it that I won't make it (get healthy--or healthier) in time to have another child.  I'm 43.  Even if I were healthy, that'd be pushing it.  All sorts of complications and problems occur at this age.  And the last time I was pregnant, at 39, it was a cluster f---, ending in disaster.  Heck, being pregnant at 31 was a health tsunami for me.  To say my pregnancy and delivery with Anna was fraught with problems is like saying the Pacific Ocean is a little pond.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I was able to have Anna.  For a long time, we thought we'd never have a child of our own.  And she's great!  There are lots of people who never get that blessing.  And I know that.  It's still hard, especially when confronted with women who shoot babies out like pez dispensers.

I still want to get healthy, though (duh).  I hope that can happen.  But, really, what are the odds?  I'd keep my money in my pocket if I were you.  I'm still going to try, though (duh).  So, I'm going to see my old hcg diet doc in a couple of weeks and pay up for my potion.  Planning an early January launch date.  Stay tuned to this channel for further updates.

Last time it went well.  I lost a bit more than average and stabilization and maintenance went perfectly well.  In fact, I was easing down a little more on my own and then surgery happened.  As per usual, it threw my system into chaos and I went into another rapid weight gain cycle with all the accompanying Cushingoid symptoms.  I'm hoping as there's no surgery on deck, this time I'll get more of the (same) weight off, and that it will stay off. 

Ideally, the doc will figure out the root cause of my problems and we can fix it.  Were it fixed, my weight issues would melt away on their own, so to speak.  But again, the odds?  Never tell me the odds.

Rather a long and odd week

Still sick, but I suppose I'm somewhat better.  My symptoms got weird, so I was badgered into going to the doctor again.  Of course all my regular folk were not available, so I had to take luck of the draw.  What a lame waste of time that was!  So, yeah.  I'll come back in if I get worse.  Thanks for that.

This week has just seemed endless.  It's been a series of strange and difficult occurrences, mixed in with the occasional bit of joy.  Anna got her feelings hurt.  I got my feelings hurt.  Mark got his feelings hurt.  I guess it's a week where our family has felt a bit like pinatas.  We've all struggled with various and sundry sicknesses.  For the first time in I can't remember how long, we didn't get all our school work done this week. 

That was a tough pill for me to swallow.  I pride myself on really being on the ball with school.  But between sickness, a pseudo-holiday, and just life stuff, we didn't get it all done.  For me, like I said, that's a wow scenario.  But, I realized (and was affirmed by my husband), regular school teachers have that happen pretty much every week, so I should let up on myself.  Yeah, sure.  I can do that.

Maybe.

I donno.  Giving up, or letting myself off the hook just doesn't come easily to me.  Maybe it's because of my health, I feel like if I give any ground, I'll fail.  I am learning to loosen up a little bit.  A little.  So, anyway.  I'm rambling.  Thankfully, we have a rare weekend where we can relax at home.  Yeah, there's stuff to do, but I can take it at a leisurely pace.  Unless I get sicker.  Then I have to go back to the doctor.  I'll get right on that.

Mystery

The doc's office called and said I don't have a kidney thing.  BUT, how does that explain my symptoms and the pain, er, in my kidneys?  Of course that doctor is gone for the weekend.  I'm thinking of going to see my other doctor.

But that totally conflicts with the plans I had for when Anna's in sewing class this afternoon: eating a cupcake and watching Star Trek.

Why do these things happen on a Friday?  Really!

Not feeling awesome

Still suffering from a weird bladder/kidney thing.  At the risk of offering TMI, it's strange.  It didn't fall under the usual symptoms one gets.  I just had a lot of stomach type pain and extra fatigue for a couple of weeks.  The antibiotics are starting to work, but they're heavy duty, so they make me feel kinda sick as well!  So add that to some other stuff going on, and I do feel rather :(. 

Yes, I know.  You'd be fair to think I should just shut it, that I'm not in the flood zone (stupidly named Hurricane!), and I do realize that.  So I'm not wallowing, and I appreciate my life.  Even so, feeling a bit sad and sick.

But I'll rally!

Up after 1:00 a.m.

Ugh.  I'm not thinking the half hour of sleep I had is going to cut it.

Not sure what feels worse tonight, my aching heart or the kidney problem my doctor diagnosed at my appointment earlier today (ok, yesterday).

Haven't we been here before?

Well, for the moment, my weight seems to have stabilized. Too bad it’s stabilized 20 pounds higher than my pre-surgery weight. LAME. That’s the # of pounds I lost (again) on my last hcg cycle. I was so hoping to make new, old progress rather than walk the same precise path three years in a row.  But it is what it is and I’m not willing to give up (yet).

“Good heavens! Are you still trying to win?”
-Princess Bride

Having a good day

Don't pass out from shock or anything, ok?  I thought I'd take a moment to write when things don't acutely suck.  :)

Yes, things have been pretty prickly of late.  But for some reason, things are pretty good today.  Physically, I'm over the bug I had, and just feel a lot better today.  My dad came over for lunch and brought his new dog.  She's a cutie.  I miss Sheba, but that is what it is.  The new dog is very sweet and funny and Bessie was thrilled to have a new friend to sniff.

This afternoon I took Anna to her writing class.  Then I needed to take care of getting my cortisol testing set up at the hospital.  That didn't take the whole class time, so I had a little time to kill.  I decided to do something I used to always do, but haven't in a long time: run errands. 

I had a nap before coming to town (a rare treat for me), so I had a little boost of energy.  It actually went better than I thought it would!  It was NICE to feel "normal" and do a few little things, like stop at the Co-op and the uber cool cheese store.  I even got to smile at my husband, whom I shocked by stopping by Safeway as my last quick errand.

Tonight is peaceful.  Anna and I played Go Cat (Go Fish cards with cats on them), had dinner, and have been both working quietly by the fire on our respective computers.  Her book is ready for final edits.  That's where Mom comes in.*  We'll be going through it together, line by line, page by page.  It'll be a lot of work that will take time I don't have to spare, but what an amazing opportunity!  How many moms get to help copy edit their 11-year-old's first complete novel?  I'd be a fool to not make the time.

The whole thing's been a labor of love.  She finished the first draft almost a year ago.  She's been working on it with her awesome writing teacher, Patrick.  The whole thing just makes me smile.  Lots of things are making me smile at the moment, so I want to savor it.

*I'm an editor by trade, so it's not weird.

Weird night

I was sick last night.  Still a little sick today, but not as bad.  I went to bed early, feeling extremely nauseated and dizzy.  I slept well for awhile, but then woke up for two hours, and finished the night with some very disturbing dreams, one in particular.

This dream was long and creepy, involving my late mother and grandmother.  It seemed really real, too.  Even in my dream, they were dead, but they appeared to me; I guess as ghosts?  I donno.  But at the end of it, my grandmother told me I'd be dying from cancer, and not too far in the future.

I know it wasn't my grandmother, it was just a nausea-fueled dream.  But even so, thanks a lot, Nanna!

Faced the music

I finally did it--got on the scale.  It's been looking at me for a long while now, and I've been afraid of it.  So today, after my family left for church, I did it.  I chose then because if it was super bad, I wanted to be able to have the fit of my choosing alone.

So, here's the news: in two months, I've gained 20#.  Yep.  Is that really "possible"?  For normal folks, no.  For me, yes.  It's all I lost on my last hcg program.

I feel a bit relieved now to have done it.  I have some thing more concrete to tell the doc at my pending Cushing's evaluation.

Ok, so we go forward from here.

I've got it!

I had an epiphany, a way to clarify and simplify whatever symptoms I feel worth mentioning on the blog.

BS= back symptoms
CS=Cushing's symptoms

Like it? I do.

So anyway, having CS today.  Ugh.  Even so, feeling fat and sassy about my oh-so-clever key.  And on that note, I'm going to get ready to go to pt (still physical therapy).  :)

Puppies and Cushing's

My dad has an appointment in a few days to go look at puppies.  That's his therapy: bring a new one home to love; well, that, and the little guys keep you so busy!  When my longtime, most beloved of felines died, my dad insisted on getting me a new cat.  I didn't want a new cat (I wanted THAT cat), but I agreed, and hey presto, it did help.

So, I'm pretty excited to be having a new puppy in the family.  I wonder what my young dog, Bessie, will think of that?  Maggie, my old dog--well, I know what she'll think of it!

What's not fun is my Cushingoid symptoms have come back.  Those include rapid weight gain (it's just not technically possible to gain weight as fast as I do when this happens), shaky hands, anxiety, heart palpitations, and a bunch of like things.  It sucks, it's lame, and just doesn't feel fair.  You know?

Anyway, the test kits are being prepared and I start them next week.  Then in mid-December, I have another appointment with the big brain doctor in Seattle--not to worry, she was the nice one, not Dr. Evil.  Last time the tests didn't show enough.  Let's hope they show something helpful this time.

Dratted cold bug!

Feel yucky.  I can still function, but...ugh.  This week Mark is off from Safeway (but not from school) and Anna and I are off from school (but not life and other extra-curricular activities like violin, dance, and writing).

About every six or so weeks during our school year, I make sure we take a week off.  Homeschool, at least the way we do it, is intense.  And also being in charge of our family's paperwork and generally runner of all things, I need the time here and there to catch up on lame, difficult, but necessary things like writing appeal letters to insurance companies and the like (lame!).

Sucky timing to be sick, naturally.  I thought I might keel over doing the dishes and getting dinner done (making salad and putting a navy bean soup in the crockpot--yum), but I didn't.  Even though I despise paperwork, it's a relief to be on the couch to work.  Later is Anna's violin lesson, and later still, ballet.  Oy.

Onward!

Doin' ok

Don't want to leave you hanging.  We're alright.  It's just life, you know.  It's HARD sometimes.  I'm still sick, but not deathly ill.  I'd give his cold a 3 on a 10 point scale; I've had worse.  We spent some time with my dad yesterday.  He'll be ok, too.  He's a major league dog lover, but he's been through this, too. 

Today is nice.  This is a very rare day Mark isn't scheduled at either job, so due to life fatigue and sickness, we're just staying home.  It's very nice.  We're pretty low key, and loving it.  We're reading, doing a little cooking, reading, stuff like that.  Nothing too taxing.

We had a nice evening Friday with friends we've known for, oh, nearly 20 years.  That was healing, too.

So, I think the cold is making me boring and pedantic, so I'll stop.  Up from the ashes (or, at least the couch), I have enough energy to bust out a cranberry pumpkin bread before retiring to my chaise for more reading and a board game with my family.

Peace.

Bruised

Well, that sucked.  Where to begin?  It's hard to, but being both a writer and an extrovert (and the fact I've only shared this space with friends), it's best if I get it out here, where people care.  Ok, this is fair warning: if you're sensitive about dogs, and/or blood, do not read this post.

Things have been especially tough the last couple of months with surgery, Mark's new job (and never ending unreasonable demands by Safeway), and us starting school.  We've had virtually no down time, no couple time.  And thus our anniversary came and went in September.

Having long been cured of idealism, it mattered little to us that we'd really not get the chance to do something special until October.  We like October anyway.  And, school is off today (Oct. 12).  So the grand plan was formed, we'd take Anna to a friend's for a sleepover after Mark got done at noon on the 11th, and we'd have a sleepover of our own, at the Manresa Castle.

Mark originally wanted to go to the ocean or like last year, Seattle.  With my surgery and a gut feeling against, I didn't want to leave town.  I figured it'd be less expensive, and my back would be way better off if we could stay in town.  And, with having to take her to writing class anyway from 3:30-5:00, we'd not get anywhere out of town until stupidly late.  Plus, the Manresa has a great weeknight special, and I was just excited to be here, in the world's greatest tourist town, where we never get to play tourist.  I was tanned, rested, and ready.

But this week hasn't gone well.  A slight schedule change with Mark's job hasn't been smooth, Anna got a cold, and I have had alternating feelings of impending doom (not usual for me) and the feeling that the Manresa wouldn't happen (sort of usual, being a pessimist, I suppose*).

I woke up yesterday feeling weird, rather sick, definitely out of sorts.  Then Mark said he had a headache (a rarity).  So I was waffling on whether or not to go.  Sure, Anna could have her sleepover, which she was really looking forward to, but we might just stay home.  It wasn't all bad, we could still do the things we planned: mainly eat, watch a movie, and chill out.  We still, if we felt ok, could do today's part of it, walking around town and having lunch, to be followed later by a fun dinner and movie at the friends' house Anna's staying.

I waffled, got advice from a friend, felt a little better, then decided in favor of going.  At 1:00, just prior to packing, the phone rang.  It was my dad, asking if I'd checked my email (no).  I said I would and could call him right back.  The news was bad.

His dog, an incredibly sweet Brittany spaniel named Sheba, had been suffering from nasal cancer.  She'd have occasional nose bleeds that would stop pretty soon.  We all thought she had more time, because just this week she was doing great.  That all changed.  Starting the night before, she rapidly declined, and yesterday, it was just awful.

He had called to make The Appointment, and could he come and pick me up to go with him.  We had previously discussed, believing it wouldn't be an imminent need, that the vet would come to his house, and we'd all be there.  But, the shape she as in, waiting would be cruel.  And as it turned out because of our anniversary plans, Mark had the day off (My dad did and does not know what we had planned.).  So I told him Mark was available, and instead of Dad picking up Anna and me, we all went down there to his house to ostensibly get both he and Sheba, and take them back to town for the vet appt.

My dad felt he could not go, and it was decided that the three of us would go and be with Sheba until the end, and take her back to my dad's to bury her.  He had prepared a lovely spot in the trees.  So we took Sheba.  She was in horrible shape, gagging on her own blood the entire trip.  We talked soothingly to her, telling her the vet would help her soon.

We got there, and they were incredibly kind and sensitive.  We were with her for the 15 minutes after she had the tranquilizer until she fell asleep.  It was hard to tell if she was asleep, because she was in such terrible shape, she could neither breathe, nor relax.  But we were with her, telling her she was a good girl, and everything would be ok.  We all cried.  Even the people at the vet's office cried with us.

Then the vet said it was time, and we stepped out.  A few minutes later, he came out to the car and said she was gone, that it was quick and peaceful, they were cleaning her up, and would bring her out.  A little while later, they brought her out to the car, wrapped in her little blanket.  We took her back to my dad's and buried her.  We stayed with my dad and his other dog for awhile, then headed toward home.

Anna told us she wanted to go to our friends' house, that she wanted to do something fun to get her mind off of it.  We tried to talk her into staying home with us, but she really didn't want to.  Sometimes we worry over her lack of emotionalism.  But is that her problem, or ours?  Eventually we got her to our friends', stopped by Safeway and got dinner and a movie.  I was so tired, I couldn't make it through the movie.  So, I went to bed at 9:00, exhausted and sad.

I woke up at 5:30 in grief and pain.  I so wanted to stay asleep; I just didn't want to face the world.  I tried to get back to sleep, but couldn't.  I kept seeing Sheba, and blood.  After I tried stirring, I sensed more discomfort (file under: when it rains it pours), "female" cramps (tmi?) and the definite signs that I have caught Anna's cold.  So this supposed to be sexy, relaxing anniversary celebration is so absurd, it's not even worth working up a snit over.  It's just life.  I miss Sheba, and I don't want to go through that again.  Ever.  But I know there's no help for it.  When you love, really love, your animals, that's what it comes to. 

We're going to attempt lunch in town anyway, plus I want to pick up some sudafed at the drug store (of course, we're out).  We have to clean out our car first.  Poor Sheba was a terrible mess.  I'm glad she's not suffering anymore.  Just the rest of us are.

*"I always hope for the best.  Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst." --Garak

Today

Blue.

Feeling a bit snarky

Sometimes I get really irked when people talk about how great their weight loss is going.  Hey, I'm happy for them; it's cool.  But what makes me mad is HOW they're doing it: by exercise and limiting calories.

IT'S SUPPOSED TO WORK THAT WAY!  But for me...not.

Two months

It's been two months since my surgery.  As my friend The Sea Monster chastised me for going so long between blog posts (Dude, I had nothing even remotely interesting to say--still true, by the way--you have been warned.), I thought the two month mark would be as good a time as any.

How am I?  Ow.  It still hurts, a lot.  It really is too soon to know whether it worked or not (I define it a success if I can sit upright again, like a reasonably normal person.).  The nerve issue is still at play.  That will take a long time to heal.  Nerves are the slowest thing in the body to heal and mine took a walloping. Should the time come when my leg and foot have normal sensation and function and my back still hurts this bad, I will be quite sad indeed.  For now, there's still hope in my mind. 

For now, I do the best I can.  I am diligent about my physical therapy.  I'm going once a week, and I do my exercises every day.  I also ice a lot and take anti-inflammatories and pain meds as needed.  I am too busy.  But there's no help for it.  With Mark's schedule, he's not available to drive Anna to dance or writing very often (Soon to be reinstated--violin lessons.  Her teacher has had some time off but will be returning shortly.).  He does whenever he can, but his store schedule is variable.

Speaking of that: SHRIEK!  He's been consistently asking for fewer shifts at the store, and they've been consistently ignoring him.  Last week we were thrilled when he worked four shifts instead of five (and his three nights off were strung together, so he'd get home from school--and stay!), but this week, back to five.  And now his counterpart is leaving the store and they are never in a hurry to hire and train, so it looks to be bleak indeed, as far as the schedule goes.

I mentioned to my friend Lloyd, right now, with Mark working 10-1 at the school every day, plus the store most nights, we have lost all our scheduling flexibility, with none of the benefits of the school job, which will come when he's full time (and down to ONE job).

I wish I could say we have loads of cash with him doing both, but you know, it never works out that way.  Medical bills alone, not to mention LIFE keeps getting in the way (What broke?!  We need what?  Both cars need gas this week?  Anna, those shoes aren't that tight, are they?).  Yeah, life.

School's going ok for us.  We're rolling, at least.  I wish I had more prep time, but what teacher doesn't?  It's hard that home is both home and my work space; it's a balancing act, for sure, as is being the mom and the teacher.  Think that's hard?  It is.

I wish eating were going better.  I need to get on the scale, but I fear it.  I'm not blind, though.  I can see it in my (lame, round) Scandinavian face, and I feel it in my pants.  It's disheartening, to be sure.  Will this battle never end?  I am having a hard time getting back to eating scarb free.  I hate to admit it, but I am.  And really, any advice or encouragement you have for me, I'm all ears.

Hello, Russia!

I don't know why you're reading, but I'm glad you are!  One of my ancestors was Russian. 

I'm waving in your direction right now.  Thanks for reading!

A little progress

Ok, so I've made it two nights without snacking now.  I hope momentum is on my side!  Very soon I've got to man up and get on the scale, then take more decisive action to get back to where I was.  Except for when I'm on an HCG cycle, weight loss pretty much doesn't happen for me.  But I've got to try.  I don't want to have to re-lose the same weight AGAIN two years in a row.  My goal is to get back to where I was before the surgery so the next HCG cycle (February?) will be more effective.

Wish me luck!

Autumn

It's 6:45 a.m. and a beautiful morning.  What's not beautiful is I've been awake since 3:45.  Why?  Wish I knew.  This tends to happen to me every early autumn; I wake up far too early.  Thankfully, it goes away.  But it makes things difficult for awhile.  I'm not a good napper, so I end up needing to get into bed ridiculously early to compensate.  No fun.

This pending week Anna's external classes start (ballet, contemporary dance, and writing group).  This means my time of not having to drive is over.  Mark's schedule is just not compatible most of the time.  I drove myself and Anna to physical therapy yesterday.  It went better than I thought, but I did get some physical therapy massage while there; that won't happen at Anna's activities!

This last week we sort of started school.  I ended up calling it "Review and Preview Week," and we didn't get much done.  This is a strange phenomenon for me.  It's not that I didn't do the prep (I did, before my surgery).  I just haven't felt ready to start, which to me feels so lame.  Yeah, I know we have time.  Homeschooling is so much more concentrated then conventional school, and Anna and I do it well.

But I don't want to feel flat.  A lot of the time I just feel discouraged, sore, and exhausted.  I mope around and eat too much.  When I'm doing fun things (like last week our friend Jack and his kids came over for a visit and it was great) I'm ok, but most of the time, I'm Eeyore.  I feel like I've lost my Sandraness, and it's not in a hurry to come back.

Trying to reenter my continuum

Today we went to my dad's house for lunch.  It was a great day, very relaxing.  Mark had to work at 3, so Anna and I stayed a couple of more hours and Dad took us home.  I'M EXHAUSTED!  The most work I did was put a few dishes in the dishwasher.  What gives?!  It's frustrating to me, though not unexpected, I suppose.

I want to do more things again.  Tuesday school starts and there are other things going as well.  I know I need to build back up, but still, is there no credit for time served?  No early release for good behavior?

What the doctor said

I went in today for a painful problem I've been having and an incision check.  The incision looks great.  The other problem is one I've had for a long time.  It's the bottom of rib cage, right side.  It hurts.  It hurts a lot.  Why didn't I deal with it sooner?  Because I've had other problems and I hoped it'd go away.  It gets tiring being me (medical freak).  They could save a lot of time at the doctors' offices by just starting the notes out with "Atypical." 

So anyway, it's hurt a lot, off and on, for a long time.  But, after my surgery, it went away.  But, so did my rosacea.  I, in an uncharacteristic show of optimism, believed it cured, thinking it was miraculously tied to my back.  It wasn't.  Both came back.

The physical therapist said she thought it was postural and gave me some stretches.  But I wanted another opinion.  It turns out it's...something.  Darn, I forgot the whole name.  The upshot is it's inflamed cartilage.  He said the problem is you can't immobilize a rib cage.  He agrees posture is likely a contributory factor, being so scrunched up so long, and now my body is recovering and changing from the surgery.

There's not a lot one can do; some ice, pepper cream (?), time.  He said normally it goes away on its own fairly rapidly, but, "Because it's you, it'll take longer."  Heh.  Indeed.

Appreciating each day for itself

Long ago I discovered, except for rare exceptions, each day has something wonderful in it.  Sometimes you *really* have to look, but it's there.  After my earlier post, I have had an interesting couple of hours.  For one thing, I made my first complete meal since the surgery!  I made salad (and washed the veggies) and navy bean soup.  I'm pleased!  I adore cooking, and I'm so excited I was able to do it.  That's progress!  Yeah, I was then too tired to shower and dress, but I'm going to do that next.  :)

Another thing is, I watched half a movie while Mark and Anna were at church and the store (will finish it tonight).  I didn't know what it was about, but got on the list at the library, and my name came up.  It's called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.  Or is it the opposite?  Anyway, it has Sandra Bullock and Tom Hanks in it.  Don't know why it's called that yet, and I hope it has a happier ending than the first hour.

Regardless of the odd movie title, it is a good reminder for me of how everybody's life is difficult and one should cherish each day with those you love, because well, you never know.  So, even though I cried through the first hour of the movie, I'm cheered.  I love my family and friends so much, and I'm blessed to have many special people in my life.

A scarb free day!

Finally!  It was probably a month since the last one--maybe more.  With the travel and surgery, and after surgery, and then it's just been hard.  But, yesterday it finally happened.  I did feel a bit of the "carb crash," especially in the evening.  But I made it.  That's always what it takes for me, getting that first day in, then it gets easier to control the amount of scarbs (simple carbs) I ingest.

I've still not gotten on the scale.  All my clothes fit, but some are more snug than I'd like.  And weight gain shows in my face immediately (stupid Scandinavian round face!).  I figure I'm discouraged enough without a full frontal scale assault.  I guess I'll just work on the eating (it's getting a little easier as I'm able to gradually participate more in the food preparation) and get to the scale later.

Been feeling blue off and on (especially at night when Mark's at the store).  I try not to take it all so seriously, knowing this is both part of the physical part of  recovery, and as my husband pointed out, of course I'd feel blue, it sucks that this is my 12th big surgery (most of which have happened in the past 10 years).  Yes, I AM tired of this!  Everybody telling me I'm doing awesome doesn't really make me feel awesome (though I appreciate the effort).

Let's see.  I've had major surgery (we won't even count the many icky, awful procedures like epidural spinal shots and esophageal scopes--yeah, those are nine kinds of fun and no lie): 1970 (born blind and cross-eyed), 1985 (more eye), 1992 (That one took me out and made it so I couldn't graduate college on schedule; I had to drop out six weeks before graduation; and on what would have been my graduation day, I was recovering from my first back surgery.).  THEN: 2001 (emergency c/s under general anesthetic--missed my only child's birth), 2002 (gall bladder), 2003 (back), 2003 again (knee--that was a banner year), 2007 (hiatal hernia), 2008 (thoracic outlet syndrome); yeah, I had 2009 "off" from surgery, but I miscarried my twin babies and my mother died four months later--one doesn't just shake that off; 2010, 2011, 2012 (back x 3).  And there's the other non-surgical stuff, the chronic fatigue, the weird endocrine/weight stuff that's a neverending battle with no end in sight.  So yeah, the novelty has worn off.  Have I not given enough?  Is there an end to this?

Ok, enough self pity.  I agree.  It's not that I'm unhappy.  I'm not.  I have a great life.  I love my family and friends, my home, my town, my pets, and lots of things.  Life really is a great and beautiful thing.  I'm just feeling a bit wounded at the moment. 

Time for a cup of tea and a vigorous round of blessing counting.  Cheers!

Three weeks: ow

Today marks three weeks since my surgery.  It feels like time is speeding up now, hurtling toward school starting in just under two weeks.

I woke up today in more pain than usual, and in different places; it's very odd, and unwelcome.  I had a great physical therapy appointment yesterday, and the nerve issues felt improved.  But today?  I don't get it.  It's rather discouraging.

So many people are telling me how great I'm doing and how great I look.  The latter feels like a patent lie to me as I have gained weight since the surgery and my face is red and blotchy.  I told my dad yesterday, while I know it's only been three weeks, it feels longer.  I want credit for time served!  This is my 12th major surgery, and if you count minor surgeries and "procedures"...well, I don't even want to count that high.  That would take a vague feeling of discouragement and martyrdom and turn it into something worse.

I've got to get my act together with my diet and no joke.  That concerns me a lot.  I frankly have no motivation right now.  Everything is so difficult already and when I'm scarb (simple carb) free, it takes a heck of a lot of work.  And right now, I just don't have the energy or physical ability to do it.

So, ok, I guess I'm a whiner today.  Sorry.  Sometimes I feel down.  I notice after every surgery more swings than is normal for me in general.  The whole system gets shaken up like a snow globe.  I'm trying to be a patient patient, I really am.  But it's difficult sometimes.  Hearing from friends cheers me up.  So does reading and unfortunately, so does eating chocolate

Time

It's starting to speed up now.  It floored me to realize we left for Kentucky four weeks ago--FOUR!  And we've now been home two weeks.  It's been a long, strange month, that's for sure.  Three states, one surgery, five flights.  Weird math.

We start school in two weeks.  I hope my body and brain are up to the job.  I am sure I'll be doing better in two weeks, at least let's hope so!  We're pretty much ready to go.  That is one way my anal-retentive, fussy nature pays off.  I tortured myself before leaving to try and get as much done as humanly possible, because this surgery not being my first rodeo, I knew I'd not be able to do all that much upon returning.  Now it's just bits and pieces.  We got caught short when our language arts book we'd planned on using got scrapped.  But I've found what I believe to be an acceptable substitute.  Ordering it today.

Last night I went to Safeway for the first time in a month.  I rode along to pick up our daughter from a fun event she participated in.  I wanted to see a little bit of it, so I bit back my fear and went along.  Then we stopped at the store to pick something up and I went in, again testing my limits of what I "can" do at this point.  The store is big, so it's a long walk for a back patient post-op girl with leg nerve issues.  But it was ok!  I'm a little more sore this morning, but not much.  It was worth it to dip my toe in the river of my life to test the currents.

Today they're going to a baseball game in Seattle.  It was my idea, and I picked the dates and ordered the tickets long ago.  I have plenty to keep me occupied, but I do miss them.  I wanted them to have a fun day off.  At this point, I'm capable of making simple food, so I won't starve.  :)  I hope they have fun!  Speaking of fun, I'd better go do my back exercises and ice my back.  And I've told you this before, but it bears repeating: it does hurt to be this sexy and cool, but I try to bear it with dignity. 

Spinning wheels

I know in my head it's just been two weeks.  But it feels so much longer!  I'm getting tired of shuffling around, having trouble sleeping because of pain, and not being able to get anything done.  I'm even tired of people telling me how awesome I'm doing.  Ok, sure.  I'll cop to it: I'm cranky tonight.  Nights are the roughest.

I have a lot I both need and want to do.  Even the non-physical stuff (paperwork I can do on the computer, for instance) is difficult.  My brain just isn't back up to snuff yet.  I hope this wasn't just one too many surgeries and I've killed an appreciable amount of brain cells.

School starts in two weeks.  I hope I'll be up to the job!  Three weeks until I'll need to drive Anna around.  Ditto on hoping I'll be up to the job.

Summer's a sucky time to have surgery (Is there a good time?).  People are so busy, visitors are hard to come by.  And me, an extrovert and all.  Our friend did come over for (and with) lunch today.  That was fun.

I donno.  I need to remember it's normal to feel kind of depressed or out of sorts after surgery.  I'm just tired of the same old song.

Two weeks, bruises, and gratitude

Two weeks today since my surgery.  I'm glad it's not that day; that day sucked.  I'm still quite sore and fatigued, but there are definite signs of improvement.  The nerve tingling on my left side is improving.  The nights are rough, though.  I'm not sure why, but I'm super uncomfortable in the evenings and lately sleep has been extremely difficult, especially getting to sleep.  It often feels like I'm trying to sleep on a bed full of bowling balls, or jacks.  Or maybe croquet balls--and mallets.

The bruises on my hand and leg are almost gone, and I'm glad.  The one on my left hand is HUGE.  I'm fairly sure the nurse who did that served time.  For some reason, I tend to be depressed looking at post-surgery bruising.  I don't know if it just brings my misery and trauma to the surface (so to speak) or what.  But it just makes me feel bad.  I can't get the tape residue off from the tubes, and it's driving me bonkers!  Neither acetone nor rubbing alcohol worked; I'm thinking an arc torch might.

Today a church friend hooked us up with food.  She made two gigantic dishes (plus salad and a carrot cake), easily enough to feed us all for four meals.  Phew!  Food has been a bit of a challenge at times.  I'm the primary chef in our house.  Mark's a great cook, but he's been so busy (and he works nights), so once and awhile, we've been caught short.  Anna's willing to learn, and we have worked it out.  Once, my friend from Kentucky (Sea Monster) called a local pizza place and they delivered out here!  That was pretty sweet.  :)  Obviously, the worst of that scenario was right after we got home when Mark had to return to work immediately upon our arrival home.  I'm a lot more able to do little things in the kitchen now.  My dad comes over sometimes on a night Mark works, makes us dinner, then he and Anna play chess and take the dogs to the beach.  I like those evenings!

Things are definitely moving forward.  I wish I felt better, stronger.  But considering what my body went through (and has since I was 22), I'm doing pretty awesome.  I need to focus on that.  My friend Valentine, who has a background in medicine, told me yesterday, given all the times my "spine has been carved on, it's a wonder I can even walk."  Damn right.  But I can!  And right now, I feel optimistic about the future.  I'm just ready to attack it!  I'm a summer girl and I haven't had one (again).  But all indications point to surgery free summers in the future and a definite improvement in my health. 

Yeah, my spine isn't the only problem.  I have that weird metabolic/endocrine thing that causes various problems, including weight.  I have chronic fatigue issues.  I have other structual problems that make life tough (like my thoracic outlet syndrome).  But I've got other things to, more important things: a family, friends, and an iron will.  And right now, I'd say the smart money is on me.  :)

Goals

We got home  a week ago today from Arizona.  Considering I had the surgery (with requisite accompanying disasters) but 10 days ago, I'd say I'm doing pretty damn well.  But even so, I hurt.  I'm exhausted.  And it's hard not to be able to do my thing.  The last week was tough at times.  I had a migraine that really knocked me for a loop (took me awhile to figure out what was going on and I was freaked out).  Once that passed, life was better.  But I'm so happy it's behind me.  The future looks rosy to me now.  Once I get back on my feet I can walk forward.  For now, I crawl forward.

I set goals for myself, with the express realization that it's ok to not accomplish them if I'm honestly not up to it.  This is the time I have to rest.  In a few more weeks, I won't have the luxury to just not do something, however small, once school starts up.  I'm learning to be easier on myself.  My battle with my body over the past two decades has made me too much a hard ass.  I expect a lot.  I tend to push beyond reason, no matter what the physical cost to me.  And that's not always a good thing.

So, like I said, I'm setting little goals.  My first week home it was to get the checkbook updated and get the movies out of our little travel case and back into their boxes: done, but it took a week.  And that's ok.  It's still done!  This week I want to make a list of thank you notes to send out and order Anna's science books for fall.  I might set little goals for the day, like take a shower and get dressed.  That sounds like nothing, but it's exhausting, let me tell you!  But if I don't get out of my jammies for the day, that's ok, too.  It's ok not to be a hard ass sometimes--that's a goal in and of itself.

Blessings on your day.

Home

What an interesting couple of weeks.  Kentucky was awesome, Arizona.... Well, let's just say it's good to be home after that.

I haven't weighed (as this is primarily a weight control blog, after all); I'm scared to.  I traveled for two weeks and five days ago I was in surgery, two days ago I was on an airplane.  Scarb free hasn't been anywhere near realistic to attempt yet, but I have made subtle improvements to the overall program since we got home.

The surgery outcome will be determined.  The short term sucks, another spinal tear, a very long surgery, and I have some (temporary) nerve damage making it very hard to walk.  I start physical therapy today.  Let's see what they say.

Louisville!

This may or may not be short, as I'm waiting for my friend as she's checking in at work.  Makes me feel like a grown-up (almost): being set up at a desk in an office.  It's been awhile since I've been so...attired. 

Well!  Yes, we are here!  The trip down went well.  The first flight was especially comfortable; the second flight had smaller, more squished together seats and more people.  And they left a bit late, which by the second flight, my back was really starting to squall.  The ad hoc ice bags on the plane do help, but only so far.  Reclining is still sitting, and the recline available on a coach class seat is minimal. 

But that being said, I'm here!  My friend (Sea Monster) was there waiting for us and off we went!  Let's see...it's Tuesday and we got here Sunday.  Things are going great!  Anna is having a fantastic time at camp with SM's kids.  Her family has gone the extra mile to make us comfortable and welcome.

My only gripe is the sun.  We spent several hours at the pool yesterday, starting in mid-afternoon, mind you.  I covered myself in very heavy duty sunblock, I spent my non-water time (of which it was most) in the SHADE, I wore a hat, I wore a sundress over my swimsuit, and yet, I am burned.  That is both lame and unfair.  So this afternoon's loosely planned pool trip has been suspended.  I'm hoping by tomorrow's more formally planned pool trip my burn will be gone, or I'll be cowering under cover and watching everybody else swim.  Darned Northern European heritage!  So between the heat and the burn, I feel like a red and white beach ball--and not in a good way.  Heat and humidity makes me swell up; it's not pretty. I haven't had to have a welder get my wedding ring off yet, so I guess I'm doing ok.

Thursday we're going to Ohio to meet some of my family who've just moved.  It's way cool!  We'll meet them for an outside dinner; the place my friend found has patio dining which accommodates my chair (and back).  I feel like a dork, but I try and shake it off and not let it ruin my, or anybody else's, good time. 

Today we went to a very nice restaurant and were going to patio dine, but the hostess asked, "Do you REALLY want to eat outside?"  I told her the abridged version and she said there were corner, round tables where I could be both inside and inconspicuous.  So we jumped all over that.  Of course. some guy said, "Are you planning on popping a tent during lunch?" (looking at the chair in its case my friend was carrying).  I did not, in fact, call him an asshole, but just shined him on.  He meant no harm, but stupidity knows no borders.

Well, I may have bored you into a stupor now, so I guess I'll end this.  If you're reading for food news, I have been eating scarb, and except for the very good pizza, my portions have been moderate.  When I get back to The Great Pacific Northwest, we go back to scarb free.  But for right now, I'm here...now!

Leaving in two days

Definitely suffering anxiety now; it's hard to sleep (and my face has that lovely shade of cortisol red all the time now).  My monthly tsunami has started.  This is a mixed blessing.  It's good for my trip (my friend the Sea Monster probably won't want to kill me now), but bad for the next couple of days (pain and anxiety very high).  Sigh.

Too much to do; too much pain to do it.  In the evenings I feel very lonely and fretful when Anna goes to bed.  Mark's at the store (his lovely boss gave him one day off the entire week--and that's the day we're going to the airport).  Wishing for company in the evening, or at least phone calls.

Tonight the neighbor lady is coming over for tea.  That'll be nice; I really like her and it'll be good to have somebody to talk to.  And tea is a short term committment so I can keep at my list.  Tomorrow, we pack!

--X-- Yay!

Well, I finally weighed.  Before VBS, we'd been busy with this and that, and my weight was up a few pounds over X.  I was scarb free a couple of days (can't remember exactly how long now; it's a blur), but forgot to do a weight check before VBS.  Then, VBS, and I was a cookie eating machine, I'm afraid.  So the past three days I did scarb free.

I was quite nervous when I got on the scale, not knowing what to expect.  Could be anything, hey?  But...X!  Woot!  Go metabolism, go!  That makes me feel some better about my pending two week trip.  No doubt scarbs will be ingested, but at least I have hope that after I get home and get back on the mostly scarb free diet, the weight will go away again.  At least I hope it will. 

A bad time for Angel of Death week

I leave in a few days and am feeling overwhelmed by the amount of things on my to do list.  I left it all on the field the last week and have pretty much nothing now.  And, last week, I ate like a stoat.  I'm back on the wagon, but it's hard!  I sure enjoyed eating cookies every day! 

More in a bit.  Just wanted you to know I'm still alive.  Mostly. 

What a week!

It's been a whirlwind, that's for sure.  Ok, not week.  Weeks.  Months.  Years.  But ever since recital season started...oy!  So much to do anyway, but with the added surgical deadline, it's been crazy.  I do think I sometimes push too hard on the projects I want to get done (often at Mark's expense).  I tend to underestimate the time needed to complete something, and exaggerate the importance of said thing.

But that being said, Mark finished the adirondak chairs he's wanted to make since Bush 41 was in office(which are stunning, by the way), and Anna's room has been painted (including the closet) and her furniture moved/shifted (including her baby-now doll) cradle upstairs, which makes me sad.  (Also making me sad...and afraid...is the amount of sorting and cleaning up that still needs to be done; I can't believe Hoffa wasn't located in her closet.)

Her bedroom has been in a steady transition for years now.  It went from baby room, to toddler room, to preschool room, to little kid room, to kid room, now it's tween room.  The pink walls--out.  They're now a stunning blue lavendar.  The doll cradle--out.  The puffy fabric balloons on the wall--out.  I guess it could be worse.  She could be asking to put up Justin Beiber posters or something.  I should count my blessings.

Speaking of blessings, yesterday a great friend of ours came over for a few hours.   We picked Lloyd up at the ferry, walked around a little and got some of PT's finest food (pizza and cupcakes) and enjoyed a picnic at the park.  The weather was pristine, the park was full and happy, and so was I!  Great for three busy people to be able to just take a break and enjoy one of God's greatest blessings, friendship.

Comments, if you please!

Nobody has made a comment on the blog since my friend E--last December.  Come on, people!  Work with me, here!  ;)

Happy Independence Day!

A grateful day

Phew!  Back from dropping Anna off at day camp.  My back is crunchy.  But for the first time in...? (way too long), I have some concentrated quiet time at home.  Yeah, I've got things to do, thankfully some of them are computercentric so I can rest my back while I do them. 

But I had a nice moment when I was walking back to my car from leaving Anna at the barn (She's in a farm camp!  The first half of the day is fiber arts, the second half taking care of the farm animals!).  Anyway, as I strolled back, looking around the campus (It's at a farm school; very cool), I felt grateful for my life.  There's so much good in it.  Yeah, the constant physical pain sucks and no mistake.  But even so, it's beautiful.

I'm blessed with awesome people in my life, and I'm blessed with work.  I love to work!  Yes, it hurts.  And no, I can't do all I want to.  But there's always something I can do, and I'm grateful for that.  For me, a sense of personal pride and accomplishment comes from caring for people and my home.  I leave it all on the field every day.  And that makes me happy (in the long term!).

Don't know about my weight today.  It's been very difficult to find scarb free days with all the summer stuff (like baseball games and the like).  But yesterday and today are.  We'll check in with the scale tomorrow.  My other cortisol type symptoms are at play.  My face is red; I have headaches; my pain level is high.  I'm just hoping and praying there's no associated rapid weight gain cycle.  I worry about the surgery.  At least I have a great week planned with my friend in Kentucky immediately before.  She takes good care of me.  :)

More proof of Sandra's Theorem

Sandra's Theorem: People understand wheelchairs.  Reclining chairs, not so much.

So, for the first time in many years, we went to a Mariners game as a family.  When Anna was maybe 4, we all went. The Guest Services department found us an area that was wheelchair accessible, way up in the rafters.  It's basically how I see movies in a theater (yearly), a big wide spot where chairs go.  Sure, there's 100 level for that, too, but it's about $70 per ticket!  So, we went for the cheap option.

This time, it did not go so smoothly at first.  The ticket takers freaked out on me.  They pulled me aside (apparently, it took 3 of them).  They searched the bag (the chair's portable bag).  They took our tickets and called up to Guest Services.  They said they'd "never heard of this before!!!!!"

After a very long while with people streaming by and me wanting to both cry and go home simultaneously, they came back and said I could go.  Yeah, it was a buzz kill.  But I dug deep and forced myself to put on a happy face.  I did not want to ruin it for my family, especially Anna, who's very sensitive to my feelings when people aren't kind to my, as they said in Rudloph the Red Nosed Reindeer, nonconformity.

So eventually we made it up to our seats.  WOW!  They were BAD!  It was nearly impossible to see what was going on.  They were little ant baseball players.  And it was cccccooollllld.  I'm a lifer of this area, and I can't recall a colder July 1.  But, we had fun.  Left early, though, because Mark asked for the day off, but instead was told to get there as soon as humanly possible.  Sigh.  How long, O Lord....

Three weeks

Three weeks until I leave.  This...is not good.  I have an impossible amount of stuff to do.  The problem is, even when I'm doing the scheduled "fun" stuff, I feel constant pressure and stress.  While we've tried to schedule stuff with our daughter in mind, so her summer is reasonably fun, our stress doesn't help her--or any of us.

What to do about it?

Weight ok

The week of my daughter's dance recital wasn't good as far as low scarbing goes.  One day led to the next and so forth.  While I didn't eat much, it's me we're talking about, and I gained four pounds.  Just that fast.

The good news is the past few days I've been very disciplined and entirely avoided scarbs, and it's almost all gone.  .8 up from X.00.  I'll bet it'd be all gone tomorrow if I wasn't going on an adventure with Anna 'til tomorrow evening.  Oh well, at least it's still coming off.

This surprises me, as my stress level has been high, and it's showing.  My face is cortisol red, my back hurts all the more, and my fatigue level is way too high.  Help, like time, you just can't buy, and I don't have much of either!

My mom used to come up 1-2x per week.  That was awesome.  I get way jealous when people talk about their sisters coming over and either helping with the house, or spending time with their nieces/nephews so the mom can work on the house!  Once and awhile Anna will have a sleepover and I always relish the time to be able to work on the house/chillax, while knowing Anna's happy and in a safe place being well cared for.

The headlong dive off the (surgical) cliff is coming fast and furious.  I need to focus more on the week beforehand I get to spend with Sea Monster and family.  That part makes me smile; it's the rest of the summer that makes me cringe.

No jobs for my husband, either.  I can't believe it looks as if we'll have to have another sucky year of him both working at the sucky store and sucky subbing.  So, no teaching job, and no surgery free summer--again.  This was supposed to be when we reached the finish line!  Ok, last summer we thought that, too.  It gets harder to swallow each time we get a bone crushing dissapointment.  Hard to accept another full year (at least) until we reach our goal--surgery and Safeway free summers!  We're teachers, darn it--we're supposed to have easy and fun summers!  It's wrong on so many levels.

Will it ever happen for us?

Three years

Three years ago today my mom died.  It's hard to believe it's been that long.  I'm very busy today; my daughter has two friends over.  They're outside now and in the quiet I'm feeling sad about my mom.  Busy is better.

Charlene Alice Joslyn

Well, the day started better

Woke up feeling more cheerful, but then it turned out Anna's sore throat and fatigue weren't allergy related.  She has a fever and feels pretty awful.  So we had to cancel our special plans.  Sigh... Now I'm developing a whopper of a headache and my throat's seen better days.

Mark took off to go take care of the errands anyway (We needed some Costco stuff; sadly, there's no Costco in my town), so he'll be gone a few hours.

I was going to weigh this morning before embarking on yet another scarb fest, but I forgot.  Yesterday was hard to go scarb free after the scarby FD/dance weekend, but I managed.  I try sincerely to go scarb free on the days where I *can.*  Not always fun, though.

Well, I'm going to go check on the little one and insist she drink her water (again, not fun).

X!

Well!  What do you think of that?  Today my weight wax X.00.  (Just one more .01 would have been Below, but even so...super!).  Of course I immediately wailed, knowing this weekend is a "weekend off." 

But I'm not changing my plans.  It's stupid and fruitless to live my life for what the scale reads.  Could have just as easily been up through no fault of mine.  And I know it's acceptable, for a special planned event, to ease up on my dietary restrictions.  It's not like I'm going to go berserk (At least, I hope not!).  And, there's recent precidence that I will go back down fairly quickly.

It's ok.  Breathe deeply....

My scale has issues

It's digital, so it sometimes flashes on other weights before committing to a number.  Then if I scoot it a few inches, sometimes it likewise dithers.  Generally, though, it finally picks a number and goes with it.  Like today.  It's the same as yesterday, which is AWESOME 'cause I had that brownie. 

And, even better, it also flashed on the Decade Below X!  Woot!  Sure, it didn't seal the deal, but it was THERE.  I saw it!  Sigh, this weekend will take care of that, though.  It's 13 hours at the State Park where my daughter has her dance recital weekend, and it's Father's Day to boot.  I'll be reasonable, sure, but I'll still not have the carb embargo working.  But, I've been surprised before; maybe it won't be catastrophic.

Hungry

Not a fan of hungry in general, but I'm not gonna eat.  I'm gonna go to bed, in fact. 

I made brownies today, a big batch to cover a thank you gift and Anna's final writing class of the year.  And, I ate one.  Dude, don't judge--homemade dark chocolate mint brownies with chocolate chunks?

You'd have eaten one, too.

Weight back down

Still no Decade Below X, but I'm able to maintain the Pound Above status.  I can live with it.  Back still going rogue, but a reckoning is coming; I see the physical therapist at 1:00.

Well, that was...interesting

So yesterday evening was Anna's violin recital.  Leading up to it was not fun, as for some reason, my body has decided to freak out and add more difficult painful things to my usual painful things; in this case, my legs are uneven, causing my right foot to roll out when I walk (which does *not* feel good, FYI), and one of the joints in my back is also out of whack.  None of my tricks are working to improve the problems.

This fries my clams because, THIS IS THE BUSIEST WEEK OF THE YEAR, and in the words of 20th century prophet, Tommy Boy, "Not now, dammit!"  I've tried so very hard to prepare, pace myself, take care of my body, but...this.  So it was with concern I approached the recital where I would both be very uncomfortable trying to sit/lean, and especially, playing the piano, sitting upright.

The concert was weird.  So few people--half the people there were the kid musicians.  There were about 30 people in this huge Victorian church.  Sigh.  Then, one of four of the "advanced" kids who were to play in the opening group number (It's a solo recital with two group pieces) was late.  So we waited, and started 10 minutes late.  She called, and they were coming (and arrived half an hour late--dude, the parents are a doctor and a teacher, should not they, of all people, be on time to an event?).  Then, Anna was scheduled at the end.  LAME.  I was nervous enough, and got progressively more uncomfortable as the time slowly ticked away.

The whole vibe of the concert was off.  Eventually, we got to our number.  Feeling ok.  Then, I get up on stage, and immediately am discomfited as the HUGE piano is on a TINY pedestal thing.  I've never seen the like.  The main accompanist said, "Oh, move whatever you need to," which was good because for some odd reason, she had a bunch of hymnals stacked on the piano bench.  So, I hand them down.

Then the "dead air seconds" started ticking in my head (I used to be a dj; dead air seconds feel like minutes when they're happening).  This throws me off.  Then, HOW do I get ON the bench?  There was no room to walk and the bench was literally inches from the precipice.  So I try to move the bench, and it starts to dive off.  I grab it with one hand (the music was in my other hand) and gasp, "Help!" quietly to the other pianist who was right there.  She helps.  TICK, TICK, TICK.  Then, I'm blinded.  She has the sun in the form of a lamp on.  I can't see.  She asks, "Do you want this moved or off?"  I say, "Please; I can't see!"  She fumbles with it, get it to turn of.  TICK, TICK, TICK... Several hours have passed by now.  Anna's looking at me pleadingly from several feet away.  So now with the sun off, I have floaters in my eyes.  Awesome.  TICK, TICK, TICK.  I'm now a gray haired great-grandmother.

I finally smile weakly and say, "Ok, I'm good," while trying to look confident, and we start.  It's going fine.  I think, "Ok, good. It's fine."  We have played this so many times.  Then...it happens.  First of all, you should know something odd, which you will find fantastic if you're a musician... I've been a  musician for 35 years.  I've accompanied people for oh, 27 of those?  And I've NEVER had a major screw up in a performance.  And I mean never.  It's been a source of amusement and marvel for my musician husband and I.  It's unheard of.  I figured, in this ONE area of life, I was charmed.

Ok, so the ONE person, more than any other, I'd NOT want to disappoint and/or embarrass (my daughter) is the person I finally do an Icarus for.  I LOST MY PLACE.  And it's not that I half-assed it or anything like that.  I just forgot a repeat.  And this song SUCKS for accompanying.  With my back, I only play once a year now (for Anna's spring recital).  It is not a piece I can fudge.  It's a myriad of accidentals (notes not in the key we're in), weird chords, etc.  And it's five minutes long.  Felt like five years long.

Blessedly, Anna has been trained by us (and her teacher) to keep going, no matter what.  So she did.  After I realized (TICK, TICK, TICK) I'd not be able to find where I was looking at my lines, I looked at hers until I found where she was.  And so I did.  But it took about 20 years off my life.  My husband said it really wasn't long, but it felt like it to Anna and me.  I finished strong.  I don't think Anna and I did the usual bow.  Somehow, I ended back at my seat, wanting nothing more than to leave and imbibe alcohol.

But, I knew it wasn't really about me; it was about her and her night.  So I tried to laugh it off (after I apologized to her).  Of course she was the angel she is and wasn't mad at me.  My husband said he was relieved it finally happened (my blowing it).  He said it's nice to see that I am human, after all, that it's hard to live up to me sometimes.

But, I felt like crap.  The night was a disappointment.  While three lovely friends were there (a family from church), a few special people who promised Anna they'd be there were not (and didn't tell us).  She kept looking at the door all night.  She was at the end of the program, so she kept hoping they'd arrive late.  But, not.  So it was not a red letter night for the Tallaricos.

Now, back to why you're probably here--my diet (heh).  I had planned to have scarb at the reception, and at our traditional family trip to ice cream at the vaunted Elevated Ice Cream in town.  But, as you know, I made a change some time ago where I don't eat when I'm upset.  So I told Mark I wasn't going to have any scarb (simple carb).  He said I should, as it was planned (and they had a nice table laid out), but I just didn't feel right about it. So I grabbed a bunch of grapes, and later at the ice cream store, had a cup of mint tea.  And that was ok.  I knew eating cookies and ice cream wouldn't be fun under the circumstances (beyond the basic lust).  So I went scarb free, though I *was* hungry.

So I thought maybe I'd be rewarded and get into the Decade Below X today.  But what was my reward?  Nearly a pound gain.  What a day.  Today I'm in more pain, but am able to take it easy.  Tomorrow I see my physical therapist, who will be able to get my spine back in the right place before this weekend pulls it out again.  I feel a little beat up by life, but it's ok.  There's always something to be grateful for.  And I am.

Nice addendum!

Weighed extra early today, and got my previous result (.2 above low low).  Another hour passed, and it was time for my family to get up and at'tem.  I realized I hadn't injected anything, so weighed at my usual time.  .2 BELOW my low low.  Oh so close to the Decade Below X....

Now if my spine would stop its reign of terror, we'd be somewhere.

Back down, just in time to go back up!

Tonight is a scarb night.  Lame!  But, at least I can get back down to my low low, and did (ok, within .2--good enough!).

My back is not doing well with this week, already.  What bothers me the most is the worst is yet to come with the demands I have to put on my spine.  And I don't want to pay the chiropractor when whatever appointment I might have will be immediately undone by a lot of standing, etc.  :(

And so it begins

...the busiest week of the year for us, and that includes Christmas week, fella.  My back is suffering from fear and denial.  It's the last week of school juxtaposed with the dreaded Recital Week.  A full week of rehearsals and recitals; the dance recitals take up an entire weekend.  We're there all day Saturday and all day Sunday.  That's the end of the week.  The time leading up to it includes the rehearsals and the violin recital (ow, my back).

I'm accompanying Anna's recital piece.  Because my back has made sitting prohibitive for me for the last, oh, nearly 10 years (a moment of silence for our fallen), I've lost most of my piano skills.  So learning one piece per year is both painful and frustrating.  My family got me a keyboard for Christmas, so I can practice standing up at the counter (I of course have to sit at an actual piano at the recital venue).  But standing up in one place hurts as well.  But I do it because she's my child. 

My weight isn't quite back down, which is both lame and sad.  It's close.  It's 1.4# above the low low, but I'm thinking that was a chimera.  It's almost back to the cool, maintained low.  I'm sure it will be there or very close tomorrow with another day of monastic discipline and water consumption.  I'm still 3# below my LIW.  This week will undoubtedly contain scarb.  I guess the key is balance and keeping myself from freaking out when the scale does its evil dance.

My summer is essentially over in five and a half weeks.  We have to do everything we're going to do as a family (camping, VBS, doing a few other fun things) before we leave for Kentucky (Sea Monster) and Arizona (surgery).  I'm still grieving it, to be honest.  August will suck.  There's much I will miss, as as summers are beautiful but short here in the Great Pacific Northwest, it'll be a lonely month on the couch and at the physical therapists as my local friends enjoy the weather.  Eye on the prize, Sandra.  If it works, the payoff will be worth all this.  But today, and in August, it's not.

Growling stomach

After last night's over-indulgence at dinner (man, it was good, though!), today I went VERY low cal, @1000.  Ugh.  Hated it! 

I'm hoping I won't get on the scale tomorrow and have the results send me into cardiac arrest.

Loose clothes and big dinner

Sums up the day nicely.  I tried on some clothes and found them loose.  Sweet!  Then, I ate too much dinner (but at least my Easter candy is finally gone).  Planning a VERY low cal day tomorrow.

I was talking about the dinner I was making (homemade burritos) and Mark asked if there'd be salad.  I said something about how I have two salads every single day, had already had a lunch salad, and couldn't I have a night off?  He replied, "You're getting thinner; I'm getting fatter.  You do the math!"

So we had salad.  :)

I'm a slave to lime

...and it's not pretty.  My dad came over for dinner and brought lime pie.  I was planning on being scarb free until tomorrow night (when we have a planned homemade burrito and Three Amigos night).  But, seriously: LIME.  I had a tiny piece.  Even so.

Well, I just did something stupid and glanced at some of the correspondence I received when my mom died.  It's three years ago this month.  My sisters were...not helpful (If you don't know the story, consider yourself lucky).

It's been three years, but I still really miss her.  But duh, of course I do.  She was my mom.  She wasn't easy, but she was my mom.

Still

Still fighting the urge to stress eat.  This time of year is always so difficult with both finishing up our school year and all the rehearsals/recitals.

It's like being pecked to death by ducks.

Movie reviews

Weight down, but not to the LOW low it was a few days ago.  Lame.  Maybe it was just a mirage. 

Last night I was feeling stressed out and REALLY wanted to eat my last bit of Easter candy.  But I made a firm commitment to myself some time ago not to eat when I'm upset.  Anesthetizing myself with food has never been good for me (duh).  I don't want to get on that path again.  So, I did what I've been doing lately: watching movies and having tea!

What's weird is, I'm not much of a movie person, as far as renting and watching.  I love going (thanks, spine, for making that more or less prohibitive), but I tend to get antsy, unless I split them in two.  So anyway, in order to try and combat the stress of this time of year (recital season!), I've been allowing myself more downtime at the end of the day.  It's been a mixed bag.

I've been grabbing movies off the shelf at the Bookmobile.  Here's what I've seen lately:

Remember Me: Fair.  It was interesting and it did give me something to think about.
Black Swan: HATED it. Can't unsee it.  I found it a horribly disturbing, sick, convoluted mess of a movie.
Gladiator: Good!  Very good!  I can't believe we never saw it.  Watched it with my Italian husband.
The Ghost Writer: Pretty darn good.  Exciting!  Ewan McGregor and Pierce Brosnan; what's not to like there?  Recommend.

Correction

I'm up TWO pounds from my recent low, as a result of two pieces of (*&^^ pizza.  Franky, sometimes it sucks to be me.

Annoying

Two days after pizza and my weight is STILL up 1.5#.  That's just not right.

I didn't weigh today

I always take a big leap up when I have scarb.  So, why torture myself?  I'll weigh tomorrow, where it will likely STILL be up.  But, today I'm doing what I need to for my dysfunctional body: no scarb, lots of water.  In a couple of days, if my recent pattern holds true, it'll go away again.

Dude, I'm so hoping to be in the Decade Below X again.  Sweet!

I did it

I ate the pizza (not *all* of it, mind you), and one of my chocolate Easter eggs (I was on stabilization at Easter and couldn't eat my Easter basket candy). 

It was good.

A weird problem

So, now I'm 5# BELOW my LIW!  Who knew?  I finally bit the bullet and just sent an email to my doctor to make sure it's ok.  My biggest concern is stabilization for my next month's trip.  I'll be gone two weeks together; one week I'll be visiting the Sea Monster in Kentucky, followed immediately by a week in Arizona to get my spine...fixed (Yeah, think positive!). 

Were I staying home, I'd not be so concerned, but travel historically has been fraught with weight gain for me, as has surgery.

I'm at X!  Ok, if you don't know what X is, I'll catch you up.  X is the best weight I've had as an adult.  Well, up until last year when I hit a new low (in a good way), but then had a horrific rebound weight gain (not in a good way).  I've been in Decade of X for few months now.  But, for some reason which eludes me, I've been sliding down.

Oh, my other problem is immediate.  My family and I planned to have pizza tonight (good quality stuff, not Totinos).  But now I'm getting cold feet.  My family votes for reason and pizza.  But I'm like a horse with blinders on--all I can see is that magic number that says Decade Below X.

What do you think?  Comment or E me if you've got an opinion for me.  To pizza, or not to pizza.  That is the question (But just so you know, I'm not an arse hat who'd make my family go without.  I can suffer in silence.  Mostly!  ;)

Epilogue:  My doctor just emailed me.  She said being I have a special situation (surgery) coming up, not to sweat it, just to keep doing what I'm doing.

Yay!

Took a few days, but I'm back down to my low (1# above X).  It's .4 above the lowest low, but it's in the same digit.  All told, I'm 4# below my LIW.  Woot!  It can just keep creeping down and down; that's ok with me (if it's ok with my body).

Monastic

After yesterday's carb-ingesting, today I went cold turkey again.  This was not easy, as we spent the evening at our local ice cream parlor at a friend's book release party.  Oy!  Let us hope the scale rewards me for my suffering.  :) 

My back is snarly.  This time of year is brutal in that regard.  It's recital season for my daughter.  So yesterday I was standing for a couple of hours; this evening I was standing for a couple of hours (with no respite).  So my back, as I said...snarly.  Ow. 

It hit me today: it's June.  Which means next month I go to Arizona for my 39065th surgery (5th on my spine).  Will this be the one?  I hope so, because I'm tiring of running headlong over a cliff every summer.

On that cheery note (sorry), let me see if I can upload a cool pic I took of one of my daughter's dance classes at yesterday's rehearsal.  She's why I do everything.

Back down

This morning it was back down to the low, low weight (for me)--but one pound above X.  Then, today was a planned carb day (groan).  I thought momentarily about aborting the mission, but I decided the key here is stability and normalcy.  It was a planned, fun day.  I have no doubt the weight will be up tomorrow, but I'll be back on the no simple carb wagon tomorrow and it will go back down (Hear me body, you WILL go back down!).

I feel kind of lame updating this now.  My friend Mermaid had a tragedy in her family (Her young cousin died in an accident); it just feels trite and stupid.  So, if you pray, please pray for the family.  If you don't, please send positive vibes or whatever you do.  I went through something like it some time ago.  My cousin, her husband, and their two young children died in a house fire.  It was 20 years ago, and I still remember the shock, horror, and nausea that trailed me after.  My heart still constricts when I think of them. 

A difficult time of year

This is a rough time.  It's recital season, and the end of the school year (though school never really ends if you're a homeschooler family).  I'm fatigued, both emotionally and physically, and there's just a whole lot to come in the next eight weeks (when I leave for Arizona via my friend Sea Monster in Kentucky).

I haven't gotten on the scale yet, though I hope my monastic 1500 calorie day yesterday made up for the dessert I had Monday.  We'll see.  My body doesn't play by standard rules.  To wit, I've seen glimpses of those dreadful symptoms I have when I go through rapid weight gain cycles.  I've tried to ignore them and get as much rest as possible, which, see above, is not easy right now.