Week 43

My Scales Are Broken!!!

Yep, I went downstairs this morning, remembering that is it Monday weigh in, and I couldn't get my scales to work. Every time I tried (more than a dozen), I got an error. I moved it between every attempt. Sometimes, the error happens if the scales are not on perfectly level floor. I don't know what to think about this!

So, here is my own assessment of how I'm doing:

-- The amount of food I'm eating is good.
-- The number of points in my food is running a bit high. I was over points a couple days this week. Not big splurges, just little things I should have cut back on--and didn't.
-- Variety of food -- I'm flunking this one. I'm having the same things over and over.
-- Breakfast -- I'm flunking this one, too. I used to love my fruit and yogurt breakfast. But now, I don't have a taste for it. I really need to find a new breakfast replacement. I'm not even hungry for fruit.

Overall, I'm still pleased with what I'm doing and the results I'm getting. This is a week for minor course adjustments. I need to read through some recipes and get excited about some new foods. Of course, the biggest obstacle to my variety issue is my legs. It's hard to stand and cook when then whole time I'm standing I have a huge charley-horse in both thighs that aches when I try to walk. Sigh. Things have got to start getting better soon. I just want to make sure I'm doing all I can in the meantime. So maybe I can't do so much full blown cooking. I can still bake chicken, and do up enough for several meals at one time. I can also make a big pot of sloppy joe mix and enjoy that the rest of the week. Today is the day to get motivated to make an improvement in this area.

This week is my birthday, and I'm so happy with everything in my life. It's a great time for me, all challenges considered. I'm thinking about really splurging on my birthday present to me, and getting a really good office chair. I alway get really decent office chairs, but now I'm thinking that with my leg and hip and shoulder issues, I can't afford NOT to make sure I have the best supporting equipment I can buy. I've looking at one chair to see how the prices are online, and I found that I can get a used one for a good price through ebay! I think that is the way to go! I may not buy it this week, but in the next couple of weeks I'm going to take the plunge and take care of myself at the same time.

That is a great birthday present for me idea, the best one I've had in a few years, in fact.

I'll try to weigh myself later, and if I'm successful, I'll update my weight chart. And I'll try to post here through the week, ok?

Take care of youselves!

Week 42
Grateful For Small Things

I know that I've said this before, but every time I visit the grocery, I feel so... ABUNDANT. There is nothing like the feeling of having good food choices around me. Nothing like knowing that I can cook, or I can microwave, or that there are low points treats just waiting for me to want them. I haven't wanted any today, but just KNOWING they are there makes me feel terrific. Why don't I go to the grocery more often? And why do I left myself run completely out before going again? I don't understand.

I'm not crazy about the few minutes where the counter is covered with bags and stacks of food as I sort out the things for the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. It's not a bad time, but I'm always rushing so things don't get too warm. Maybe I should take a few deep breaths and just enjoy that time a bit more. I also use that time to pull out the faded, wilted and otherwise trashed food items. It's when old leftovers get pitched, when dates get checked on bottles and cartons. And when I refill the ever ready Coke supply.

Basically, when I'm done, the kitchen is not only fully stocked, but in ship shape! No wonder I like the after part so much!

Anyone else have this experience?

P.S. When I hit 20% body weight loss, I'm going to take new towel pics!

Week 42

Hi gang!

It seems that I barely have time for my blog these days. I'm busy, yes, but normal things take longer because of my knee/leg troubles. I'm getting some help with this, and I'm doing better. And I'm hopeful that the whole problem will soon be behind me.

It's been giving me flashbacks to my illness last summer. I have been through a sort of refresher course of all of the big lessons I've learned in the last few years of my life. Just the lessons, not the struggles or pain that I went through to learn them. A sort of Cliff's Notes to the DM's life. Of course, I would rather just be able to stand up and walk! But since that isn't my reality today, I'm doing my best to be patient with my body. It took some time for these kinks and limitations to develop, and I'm willing to invest some time to help them ease right back out. One that I've really learned -- life is a process, so I'd better be enjoying the ride. Even the rougher parts.

But not all of my life is rough right now. I'm working on my book, a lifelong goal that I've started to make real. I'm looking for a new place to live. It's been a bit exhausting, but only because I haven't found a place I can fall in love with -- YET! Maybe today I will. My snuggle bug, Skooch, makes my days entertaining and eventful. I've got work and a little bit of money in the bank. While there are a couple of small details I would change if I could, overall, my life is pretty darn good. This is one of the good times.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you... I lost another pound this week. I will be so excited to get below the 220s in the near future. But right now, I weigh less than I did when I moved to Arizona eleven years ago! In one sense, that makes me eleven years younger, right? I feel younger, and I suppose that is all that matters.

Week 41

I've lost 3 pounds!

And it feels great!

My Illness -- Part 1

I promised to write the whole story of what happened to me, so here it is.

In early August, 2002, I had been working too many hours a week without a break since mid-January. I hadn't had a week off, and I had worked through most weekends. I was exhausted. So I wasn't surprised when I noticed that I wasn't feeling well. It seemed like the flu was coming on, just a general sense of tiredness, lack of motivation, and a sense that something was wrong. I noted it, but dismissed it. I had deadlines to meet, and I was promising myself a few days on the beach in California after my next deadline, probably in September.

Soon after this, I noticed that it hurt to sit down. I mean, my whole bum ached. I'd never felt anything like this before. It confused me. And it really started to bother me because, after all, I work sitting down!

On August 15th, I had to run some errands in the early morning. It hurt to sit and drive so much that I went straight to where I was going, and straight home. One stop was the post office, which always means a weight, but it hurt so much that I couldn't sit and weight, and by now, even standing up hurt. When I got home, I laid across my bed. It would be the last time I sat down for more than two weeks.

That was a Thursday. Friday during the middle of the night, I realized that something was really wrong with me. The ache in my bum, while better while I was laying on my stomach, hurt all of the time. Early Saturday morning, I called my yoga teacher for advise. She always is tuned into natural remedies, and I knew that I could find some practical help and comfort with her. She recommended a specific mineral for me to take, and I didn't have any at home. She said she would send someone over with a few for me in a couple of hours.

Mid-morning Saturday, my door bell rang and there was Myrna, a woman I didn't know, who studied with my yoga teacher. I immediately liked her. She handed me the pills and asked if she could come in. She later told me that I looked so horrible that she was afraid to leave me alone. Myrna ended up staying with me for a week. The first few days, she stayed through the night. But after a few days, I encouraged her to go home at night. She would return in the early morning, and bring me a plate with cut fresh fruit. Those moments, when she would arrive and I would have my breakfast, were the happiest moment of my day.

By Friday night of the next week, things were getting more serious. In one of my naps, I had a dream or a vision about my body. I saw a place inside me of where the intestines turn a corner. (I found out later that such a place really exists!) I saw a swelling of the intestine in that place, and a sort of backlog of the stuff you find in intestines. It was sore and tender in that place. When I woke up, I asked Myrna to go and buy an enima for me. I put myself into the bathtub, turned on one of my favorite yoga meditation tapes, and chanted along. The whole time, I was imagining this swollen place inside of gradually getting smaller, and everything that was backlogged flowing out easily. When Myrna arrived, I took the enima, and within minutes everything passed. I immediately felt much better, dramatically better. With Myrna's help, I returned to lay across the middle of my bed.

While I slept, I had another dream/vision about my body. One of the things that had been bothering me lately, since I had been laying down, was that my hip seemed to be popped out of place. In that dream, I could see myself laying on my stomach on the bed. My back was fushia and orange, swirling colors. Suddenly, a light blue drop of paint fell onto my lower back, and in that instant, in my sleep, the pain in my back went away!

I woke up Saturday morning feeling the best I had felt in many weeks. I actually sat on the landing downstairs for almost an hour talking with Myrna. It was the calm before the storm.

That night, Myrna told me that she had to leave because she had a chance to go and work for an elderly woman for a few weeks. So she left me, and I was terrified. I was grateful for her help, and understood why she had to leave, but very scared because I knew I couldn't take care of myself.

I called a friend who is unemployed, and asked her for a huge favor. I asked her if she could come and stay with me and help to take care of me. I told her that I thought I was getting better. Tyneckia came and stayed.

Throughout the weekend, I had tried to reach my doctor's office without luck. I was able to reach them Monday morning, and got an appointment for Tuesday afternoon. On Monday, the downward slide began. I was worse than ever, and a boil had started to appear on my bum cheek, right about where the bum and leg connect. By Tuesday afternoon, it was huge.

I couldn't sit down to get to the doctor. Tyneckia drove me in my truck, with me spread out on my stomach in the back seat. The walk to the doctor's office from the parking lot was murder. When his staff saw me, they rushed me into a patient room. He came in almost immediately. He looked at my boil, and said that it was more than he could deal with in his office and said that I had to be taken to the emergency room. I panicked! I wanted to refuse to go to the ER, but Tyneckia said that she was taking me whether I liked it or not. And I knew that I really needed help.

I had a surprisingly good experiene at the ER. At first, someone in the office area insisted that I sit in a wheelchair, and refused to believe me when I said that I couldn't sit on that hard chair. I found a spot on the floor and laid down on my stomach. They saw this, and pretty quickly moved me to a patient area. I waited quite a while for someone to take care of me, but finally a guy arrived. He lanced my boil and drained it, the whole time, I couldn't have any pain killers. I have to admit, I screamed bloody hell. When he finished, he told me to follow up with my doctor in two days.

I called my mom the next morning and told her my boil had been lanced, and that I had a follow up doctor appointment for Thursday afternoon. I found out later from my Dad when when my Mom hung up the phone, she had a weird look on her face. He asked her what was wrong, and she said it was the way I said "goodbye" to her. She picked up the phone and called to get a plane ticket to Arizona. She arrived Thursday morning, and took a cab from the airport to my place. She arrived about 20 minutes before we had to leave for my doctor appointment.

During this time, I got worse even quicker than before. By the time Tyneckia took me to the appointment, I could barely walk. When I got inside his office, he came over to me and told Tyneckia to take me straight back to the ER. Back in the truck, really scared now, I called my house and told my Mom that we were swinging by to pick her up on our way.

This time, they took me straight to a room and I was seen by a doctor. He and a nurse worked on draining my boil so more, and yes, I screamed bloody hell again. After a short while, the doctor told me that I was going for a CT scan. I'm as worried about the cost as I am the idea of needing such a test. In about a hour, I'm back in the ER and the doctor tells me that they are scheduling me for emergency surgery. They are calling in a surgery team and working to get a surgery suite ready. He explains that I have an internal infection, and that the infection is wrapped around my intestines and runs into my female organs. My Mom and Tyneckia are right there. No one talks. I'm immediately depressed. That lasts for a few minutes, and then, I start to think more clearly. He didn't say "tumor" or "cancer" or any one of a number of truly scary things. I can do this.

I don't remember much of what happened until I was being prepped for surgery. I met my doctor, a woman, and I immediately trusted her. I felt safe with her. I remember being on the operating table, right as I went under. And then I remember waking up in recovery. When they noticed I was awake, the doctor from the ER came over to me. He patted my hand, and told me that he hadn't told me this before because hadn't wanted to scare me. In the ER, they discovered that the infection was poisoning my blood, and I only had about 12 to live from the poisioning when they scheduled the surgery. I had almost run out of time.

The most amazing thing is that from the recovery room forward, I never really had any pain. I had been in such pain for weeks that after the surgery, what I felt was some discomfort, but not pain. I had been admitted to the hospital, and taken up to a room on a cardiac floor. It was the only room where I could get into a bathtub, which I had to do 4 times a day because of my incision and the drainage.

The next morning, my surgeon came to see me. The good news is that they saved my life. The bad news is that I will have to stay for 2 weeks and have at least one more surgery, perhaps two. She explains that I had a fistula, that it was unusual, and it was the worst one she had ever seen. There was no way they had gotten it all out, and the additional surgeries would be needed to continue to get the infection out of me. Most fistulas come from an infection inside the colon. Mine was outside my colon, but it was wrapped around it (causing the blockage I saw in my dream/vision). They assigned an infectious diseases doctor to me, who would prescribe an antibiotic for me based on the culture. In the meantime, I was taking a general antibiotic through an IV. Mom and I settled in for a long hospital stay.

Week 42

By Illness -- part 2!

The infectious diseases doctor looked like a frumpy Harrison Ford, and he had a personality to match it. Every day he came and saw me, and checked on my progress. The surgeon and her assistant stopped to see me every day, also. They were shocked that I wasn't running a fever. In fact, over the first five days, it became obvious that I wasn't going to need additional surgery. Every four hours while I was awake, the nurses would come in and give me an IV or dress my incision after a bath. My Mom helped me with those. I had some great conversations with these wonderful men and women.

My Mom, being a smoker, would slip out a few times a day to the employee's smoke hole. She would always come back with stories of the people she had met, and bring back a stack of business cards. She met all kinds of people, from nurses and nurses aides, to doctors and administrators.

During this time, my childhood friend, Bitto, who also lives in Phoenix, came to see me several times. We had some great talks, me and him and my Mom, about life, about my life, about his life, etc. This crisis took our normally good relationships and opened them up to be even better. One thing Bitto said is that he and his wife would like to me to move to live closer to them. I'm in the process of finding a place in their neighborhood right now. Funny thing, it's not the part of town I would choose for myself, but I don't mind moving there at all.

The whole time I'm in the hospital, I'm on a liquid diet. It's pretty horrible. One day, when they brought my lunch, I was so sick of soup that I cried the whole time I drank it, straight from the bowl because it was quicker to drink than to eat with a spoon. The next afternoon, the IV made me sick at my stomach, and my nurse brought me some saltine crackers! It was the first solid food in 3 weeks, and nothing ever tasted as good as those crackers!

Finally, they decide that I can go home. Because I need to be on IVs every 6 hours for the next two weeks, I need to have a pick line installed. I've already told you the story about the woman I met there. I need two different nursing services, one to monitor my IVs and one to monitor my incision. Everything gets scheduled, and Mom and I take a cab home. A few hours later, the first nursing service shows up. It turns out, they aren't going to visit me every six hours, they are going to teach me how to do the IVs myself and come back in a week. I sobbed, I was so tired and so scared. I made a detailed list of the steps to prepare the drugs, clear the line, replace the line, and set the pace for the drip. It's a lot, but I'm sure that after a few times I can do it. It turns out to be OK, even though I was really scared.

For the first few days, I sleep downstairs on the couch and Mom sleeps on the loveseat. She is exhausted, and it takes a few days to sanitize the room I had been in. The infectious diseases doctor told her how to do it, and how important it was not to get me reinfected. A lot of my bedding and some of my clothes are thrown away. I can't tell you how wonderful it was the first time I was able to crawl up into my own bed. Eventually, the IVs have all been given, and I have my first followup with the surgeon. My Mom wants me to come back to Ohio to live for a while so she can take care of me. We figure out how to handle my mail, and the other things that must be done. Bitto come and puts my truck in his garage. Another friend agrees to watch my place. The mail is stopped. I get on a plane and fly to my parents house.

I think this is the whole untold story. I started posting in September from Ohio, so you can piece together the story from this point. I developed a knee problem while learning to walk in Ohio, and it bothers me to this day. In fact, it's worse now than ever. I'm looking into physical therapy and other treatment options now. I've never had knee problems before.

What I Learned

It's hard to pull together how my life has changed since this event. Some of the changes I can't even put into words. Generally, though, I'm more focused on making sure I'm doing what I want with my life. I've also expanded the scope of my goal, of what makes a healthy lifestyle. It's much more than food issues and exercise.

Perhaps because of my lingering knee challenge, I'm reminded of my life lessons all of the time. It's important for me to stay in touch with the people I love. It's important to me that I get a good balance of work and rest and play. I'm struggling with that issue now.

I also have learned that I have to be a bit kinder to myself. I wrote about this earlier this week. It's not OK to decide to make a huge life change and then hate the places of my body that remind me of the past and what I want to change. I can't hate the fat and become healthier at the same time.

I realized through this event how much of my life and my actions are defined by fears. I didn't know that before.

I also realized that I've been too much of a lone ranger through my goal. Sure, no one but me can put food into my mouth. I have to make the choices. But there are people out there who have information and services that can really support me. I have to live my own life, but I can take advantage of the support available from other people.

People really surprised me during this time. People went out of their way to help me. I never expected that. I would never have asked for help if I hadn't been in such a bad place and needed help. I've learned to be more open to people through this.

And I've learned much more. You can see the threads of my new understandings throughout my writings here.

I hope this story has encouraged you. I went through a lot, but it was a series of miracles that I experienced. I tried to tell the story of the miracles here, in the midst of all of the gory details. I hope I told it true and right. The miracles are the real story, the miracles that happened inside of me and around me. Life is full of them, my life overflows with them. Look around... you life might be full of them, too.

Week 41
Keeping Busy and Healthy

I can't believe it is already Friday night! This week has flown past. I've been eating well. I started to hit a snag mid-week because I was running out of groceries. As often as I complain about that, you would think that I either hate to go shopping or hate spending the money. Neither one is true. Lately, its been because of my knee that I put off any sort of long walking excursion. So about Wednesday when I realized I had scraped the bottom of the cupboards, I went out for a short trip. I got a lot, mostly produce, and boy does it feel good to have options. Choices. Lots of good things around to eat. Please remind me how great this feels if I ever report that I'm putting off another trip!

I had a big event this week, also on Wednesday. I scheduled an appointment with a friend for a massage. With all of the limping around I've been doing, I thought some deep muscle work would be good for me. But more than that, I thought that my friend could help me to really connect to my knee, to help me to figure out what is going on there. I learned a whole lot about myself and my knee during this time, and almost all of it related to my healthy lifestyle changes.

Do you remember way back when I said that wanted to create a healthy lifestyle? And then, after my illness, how I said that I had realized that I was being a bit of a lone ranger where I didn't need to be? No one but me can decide what I'm going to put in my mouth, or if/when I'm going to exericise. Some parts of this I just have to do on my own. But there are plenty of people around who can offer me different kinds of support while I'm making these changes. I had promised myself that I would start scheduling wellness visits with my doctor this year, and with a counselor I know. I thought that having some support for my physical changes would be good, having someone who knows how bodies work and all about nutrition. The same with the counselor, but more for emotional and spiritual guidance. Well, I meant what I said back then, but somehow, the people I had picked to use just didn't seem right to me. So when I had this idea to get a massage, and it felt RIGHT, I followed through with it.

If you haven't had a massage where you found yourself crying or laughing or having some sort of emotional release, you probably won't understand my experience this week. I cried. I screamed, even. I coughed. I felt a lot of sadness pass through me. And through all of this, I came to understand that there are two parts of me right now. There is the old part of me, the way I used to be, which shows up as the extra weight around my body. And then there is the fairly new intention and mindset that I'm going to get healthy. In one way, that intention is totally at odds with the extra weight. I learned this week that I needed to be kinder to my old self, instead of being glad that it is passing away. I learned a lot from being heavy all of these years. The weight was a coping mechanism, and while it wasn't the best idea of my life, it was the best idea I had for a long time. I knew I didn't want to be heavy, but at the same time, I had other issues that I didn't know how to deal with, and being heavy helped me to cope with those. For example, I know that I'm pretty intense, and that people often have a hard time dealing with me with I'm straight on, which is most of the time. So I've learned to not appear threatening, and being heavy is one way I've done that. I could literally write a book tonight about what I've learned about how the weight supported other areas of my life. But the important lesson this week was this: To look on my past with real kindness and appreciation, and to bring the best of the past with me into the future by honoring it right now, in the present. There isn't any room for me to judge my former self, or to be harsh about my former decisions. After all, my body still carries around a lot of that weight, and hating that part of my life in some way means hating parts of my own body. That isn't good. That is the sadness I connected with.

I'm doing quite a bit of journaling these days with my knee. If you have never tried to journal with a part of your body, or an issue in your life, you might find this interesting. This is how I talk with parts of myself when I'm trying to pull things together.

More soon.

Week 41

I lost 1.5 pounds!

Ah, this feels like the good old days! A Monday morning weigh in, and a weight loss!!


On Friday, I did something impulsive -- I was in the neighborhood, so I stopped in to my favorite scrapbook store and picked up a few things. (I'm making a scrapbook of my life changes since I started my healhy lifestlye goal last year.) At the counter, there was the cutest little scrapbook, about 5 x 7, and it was the sample for a class they were holding on Saturday. Here is the impulsive part -- I signed up! So Saturday late morning, I was off to a class. It was a really great time. I got a chance to learn something new, and I made something very cute. Most scrapbook classes, you make stuff to go inside the scrapbook, but this class, we made the actual scrapbook! I was so inspired that I picked up the supplies to make two more, and I've already started my next one. It's a Sweet Sixteen birthday present for my niece who turns 16 in a month. I'm setting up the inside pages so it is a sort of scrapbook time capsule for her, a snapshot of her world, her family, and her life, along with her dreams for the future! I'm so excited to be doing this. And I know that she will love it. She really appreciates stuff like this.

It was good for me to add something so creative into the mix. I was really swamped with work over the weekend, so on the one hand, I could have argued that I didn't have the time to spare. But the way I was energized from the class, I couldn't afford NOT to do it. I know that when I work a lot of hours, my joy for living starts to fade, and the colors of life start to get muddy. After this class, I was almost dancing inside from excitement. I need to remember this, and remember to schedule some creative time into my schedule more often!

Week 41
Another Milestone

Hello everyone

Sorry I haven't been out on the Internet this week. I've been working like crazy for my client, working on my book, and looking at house with my Realtor. It's been crazy over here! But not with my food. My food has been very good, and something very interesting happened.

One night this week, I slid two slices of still frozen pizza into the oven, and enjoyed it for dinner. When I finished eating it, I realized that two slices was really a bit more food than I wanted at one meal. DID YOU HEAR THAT? Who would have ever thought that I would say such a thing to myself. So, I considered some options, including cutting the frozen pizza into 6 pieces in the future (instead of 3) and only having one slice. That didn't seem like quite enough food for a meal, so I decided to cut down the slice sizes by cutting the frozen pizza into quarters instead of thirds. This cuts the points per meal down to about 14 from 18.

On Saturday night, I had my first reduced slice pizza dinner, and I must say, it was just the right amout of food.

I can't quite put into words how proud I am of myself for making this realization and this adjustment. The thing I'm most excited about it the discovery that my current portion was too much food! This isn't my inner food critic telling me that I'm eating too much and pushing me into eating less. This is my body telling me that it was too full, and me listening, and then acting on it. This seems to me to be exactly what a healthy body does, and this is how a healthy mind responds to the information. I feel like I've reached an important milestone in my journey to a healthy lifestyle.

Pizza is probably my favorite meal, and until this happened, I would NEVER have thought it was possible for me to cut back without feeling deprived. The exact opposite has happened. I felt stuffed, so I chose to cut back because it was best for me. I'm so excited because this whole thing is so different from how I used to be with food. It's a real miracle in my life.

And, of course, I'm sharing it here with all of you!

P.S. Tate's comment from my last posting reminds me that I sitll haven't told all of you the whole story of my illness. It wasn't gall bladder, BTW. I promise to write the whole story in the next two weeks. I think it will be good for me to tell it, to relive it all again. I have been trying to only tell the story of the miracles, but some of the details aren't miracles, they are just facts that have to be included. So I'm still going to emphasize the miracles (and there were plenty of them), but figure out how to tell the whole story. I've got this pot on the back burner of my mind now.