Rhody, spine, and detox

Well, I was going to write this days ago, but this is one of the busiest times of the year.  Rhody weekend was fun; tiring, but fun.  I ate a lot more than usual over the course of four days.  I was concerned, but I got back on the wagon Monday.  I weighed Wednesday, and was 1.5 pounds below my LIW.  Woot!  Go, body!

Now if only it would cooperate with the pain and fatigue I live with.  Today, I'm whooped.  We did school (finishing up is tiring), then had lunch, and took Maggie to the vet.  Our day isn't even half over.  :(  I'm just grabbing a few minutes on the couch to catch my breath before getting back to it.

We hope to do the drive in tonight.  Last time we went was likewise an exhausting day.  Grrr.  Gotta do something about that!

I haven't lost any more weight over the past three months....however....

The worst "compliment" I've heard in a long time was today at the Rhody Festival Pet Parade.

"I almost didn't recognize you because you look so good!"

Three months

Three months and counting since my HCG last injection on this cycle.  This morning's weight is #1.5 below my LIW.  Nice! 

My plan is still to do a short cycle in last September, leaving six months between cycles, and being done before the holidays.  Then repeat as necessary every six months.

This is, of course, contingent upon my body not freaking out and doing its rapid weight gain thing (ugh).  I am hoping since no surgery is planned, that won't happen.  I am gradually getting a little energy back and every time I realize I won't have to knock it back to zero with a yearly awful major surgery this summer, I smile.  It's still a challenge to live with chronic pain, mind you, but no surgery is only good for me at this point.

Ah, technology you old minx....

Ok, technology is eating my blog!

I searched and strove to try and fix whatever weird settings took away my ability to make line breaks, with no success.  Then I saw something about how one might need an updated browser.  So, I checked and I had the most up to date one on my computer...for Windows XP.

I adore XP!  But it's a losing battle, I'm afraid.  More and more things are incompatible with it, including Blogger.

So, our family computer was out, and I tried logging on on that.  WELL!  Many more bells and whistles on Blogger, including the ability to adjust the elusive line break setting, spell check, and compose in various formats.  Shiny!  It looks like Blogger used to look on my old and trusty machine, before it got all scrunchy when I'd log on to this site....

Ponderous

I have an idea. It’s just an idea, nothing more. But, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. I’m thinking of going entirely sugar free for a year, and writing a blog/book while I go. I’m not saying nothing containing sugar (like bread or recipes or cured meats), but nothing with sugar as its raison d’etre, as in desserts. Could be interesting. It’d sure make my HCG rounds easier. But, it’d sure make holidays and traveling hellish. Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Funny (but good)

The plan seems to be working. On the weekend (Fri-Sun), I take maybe one meal off per day. Mon-Thurs I'm a paragon of monastic virtue. No scarbs (groan). Last night I had my Friday night scarb meal (yum). This time, I counted calories and was close to my daily goal (a little over). Today, .2 lower than yesterday. Heh. That never happens, but it works for me! Right now I'm 2.5# below my LIW (last injection weight). Sweet! Today's a bonus scarb free day. Tomorrow's Mother's Day. I will neither be counting calories nor scarbs. Deal with it. ;)

Like a ball

Feeling a bit better than I was. Like a rubber ball, I bounce back up. Still super sore, though. And this lame page won't format correctly. I tried everything I know, so I'll probably not blog until I get it sorted out. A big blog of text is way too un-sexy.

Maggie and me

We got Maggie when Mark and I were in our late 20s. We're now in our mid 40s, and Maggie's 15. At that time, Mark worked for Nabisco and was gone 12 hours a day. I had no friends up here and my health was bad. Maggie was my constant companion and the best. dog. ever.

She was 3 when Anna was born and adjusted pretty well to being demoted from ad hoc baby to beloved dog. She used to sleep in Anna's room, coming back out here to watch the house after Anna was asleep (How did she know Anna was asleep?). Mark worked nights at that time (like now), and Maggie took care of us.

She's now, as I said, 15. For being 15, she's doing great. But she's 15 and is showing her age, sort of like Bilbo after he gave up the ring. Her hearing's not great, her sight isn't what it was, and she's stiff and sore. She has a disk problem (like me!). Sometimes, like now, it gets flared up. She doesn't want to give up doing what she loves (like me!), but the fact is, she can't jump into the van anymore without risking hurting her back.

The last week, she's been on the DL. Last Sunday, I stayed home from church 'cause she needed help getting up. She's been worse, but she still needed to take it easy. She's improving; that's the good news. But, she still is required to cut back her activities. I can put my hand on her back and feel heat where the disk is inflamed (again, like me!). That's getting better, but it's still hot.

That long preamble was brought to you by the fact Maggie and I are home while the rest of our family is off on an adventure walk. There's a huge trail up here called the Larry Scott Trail. Mark, Anna, my dad, and our young Lab, Bessie, are on it as we speak. Maggie and I are home, in pain. Today I'm in a lot of pain, both back and knee. I probably wouldn't have tried the 2 miles anyway. Ok, no, I'd not have tried the 2 miles anyway; but today, definitely not. And I feel bad, for both of us.

I'm tired of missing things, of being disabled, of feeling left out. I'm a good sport (or try to be) about encouraging my family to do the things I can't, but it sucks. I'm not like the other people my age. I'm a misfit. I feel superflous to pretty much everybody in my life. Sounds like a self esteem issue, but I don't think that's it. I know this isn't my fault. And I know I leave it all on the field every day. I know there's nothing else I can do that I'm not already doing. And my secret is I know the truth: if most other people tried on my body, they'd keel over saying, "OMG, how can you live like this?" But I get up every day and I pour myself out. And I feel good about that. But, I don't feel good about missing things, about being in pain all the time, about feeling ignored by my friends (not all of them, of course).

I take things hard. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and thus it's easily damaged. I don't trust most people. I don't let most people in. When I do, they have tremendous power to hurt me. It's my kryptonite, I guess. What's my point? I don't know. I guess I'm just blue because I'm old and busted, at home with my old and busted dog while the world spins, flies, and dances around us. Don't mind me, I'm only serious.