This Must Be What The Stones Were Talking About

It amuses me how frequently you want something that you can’t have or you want to use something that isn’t working.  Think about it...  You rarely crave Cinnabon at the mall until you’re on a diet.  You always get the itch to make cookies when you're out of eggs.  Crunchy chips and gooey caramel sound the best when you've got a toothache.  You need to run a zillion urgent errands precisely when your car breaks down.  You never thinking about going to the bathroom until you’re constipated.  (Too far?  Eh, I’m a boy mom…no topic is off limits.)  You see my point.

Today, I’m obsessing with food and drink.  I’m having fasting labs drawn tomorrow morning and they told me that I have to fast for twelve hours.  TWELVE!  I have these same tests run every year and they always tell me “nothing after midnight.  That’s easy…totally doable.  I’m equally fine with abstaining for the first three hours of my day tomorrow; I’m not a breakfast eater and the coffee can wait if it must.  The hard part is going to be the last two or three hours of today!  No late night coffee or tea before bed, no cocktail!  NO COCKTAIL, PEOPLE!  It’s like they have a complete and utter disregard for my nighttime routine.  

I’ll be fine until 9pm; Matthew has a concert so I won’t have anything available to me until he’s done.  But after that?  That time when I’m winding down before bed?  (No cocktail?!?)  Oye.  There’s only one solution: bed.

So tonight I’ll turn in at 9:30pm, hopefully get some extra sleep (doubtful, but that’s another story), and survive this trying ordeal.  

If I want to relate this to being thankful, I would say that I am thankful for my doctor. She is amazing and I am always grateful for her care.  The labs are an extension of her attention to detail and wanting to keep an eye on things.  I really do appreciate her and her help with my myriad of issues.

But come on.  Twelve hours?!?

Making Lemonade

One of my family’s favorite and most often quoted movie lines is from The Other Guys.  After a delightful exchange involving lions, tuna, establishing a beachhead, and breathing devices for aquatic creatures, Will Ferrell says to Mark Wahlberg, “Did that go the way you thought it was gonna go?  Nope.”    Since we quote it to each other often, it’s ironic that we find ourselves in that very situation right now. 

We had a plan.  It started out as a tiny idea, but after much discussion, prayer, and advice-seeking, it seemed like not only a good plan, but the best plan.  Things seemed to fall into place and were moving forward swimmingly for about five months.  Then, the wheels fell off.  Well, perhaps they didn’t fall off completely, but we’re definitely taking a detour  that we didn’t anticipate. 

My reason for writing today is twofold.  First, I wanted to find a way to let everyone know what is going on at the same time.  Rather than retell the story many times over the next weeks as an unexpected face shows up in my photos and whatnot, I am hoping to get it handled up front.  Secondly, I’m hoping that this will be therapeutic for me; these last weeks have been exceedingly rough and perhaps writing will help. 

The very short version is this:   John, our eldest son who is in his first year of college, is coming home.

 Approximately eight weeks ago, he got very sick.  At the time we all thought it was the flu, but as days turned into weeks and it didn’t pass, it became apparent that he was dealing with something bigger.   There have been numerous visits to the school’s Health Center, many tests performed, way too many pounds lost, days of agonizing pain, and a trip to the hospital.  While he is still waiting for some test results, we did discover that there is a problem with the lymph nodes in his abdomen.  If this is the only problem, it is supposed to clear up on its own in a matter of weeks; given that we’re at two months now and it hasn’t gone yet, further testing, evaluation, and eventually a restful time of healing are necessary. 

Therefore, after considering all of the information that we have, the decision has been made that it is time for him to come home, receive the treatment that he needs, and recover.  To that end, he has withdrawn from this current quarter and will be taking the spring quarter off; technically a medical leave of absence.   We are hoping that this will give us time to get to the bottom of things and get him healthy.  He is on track to, Lord-willing, resume his college career with the fall quarter in September.  So please pray for him as you think about it; this is a very annoying illness in that it can literally change minute to minute.  He is up, about, and seemingly normal one minute, and then he can be in excruciating pain the next.  It’s frustrating. 

So that’s where we’re at.  As for the title of the post?  I’m trying very hard to make lemonade out of the lemons that life has handed us.  As you can imagine, this has been a difficult time for us and I’ve had moments where I didn’t think I could handle the stress of it all.  I’m sure that some of you can relate…it’s horrible to know that your child is ill and be powerless to help.  However, I’m trying to be mindful about counting my blessings throughout all of this.  So here we go…lemonade, folks:

1.  My walk with my Creator has grown.  There’s an old Steven Curtis Chapman song called, “Carry You to Jesus” and that’s where I’ve found myself.  While I couldn’t do anything tangible for John, I have spent hours and hours continually bringing him before my Lord.  There have been moments of pain and despair, but there have also been moments of such incredible peace that they could have only come from Him. 

2.  My marriage has been strengthened.  Andy and I have had to lean on each other in ways that have never been necessary before and we’re better for it.  Having recently celebrated our nineteenth anniversary, we are now working on our twentieth year of marriage and I can’t conceive of a better partner.  He is truly amazing, every single day.

3.  My immediate support system is amazing.  My family, my friends who I consider to be family, and my church family have been a constant source of strength and help.  To those who have been a sounding board for me in the past weeks, I love each and every one of you and I am so grateful for you.

As for our plan?  It’s definitely not working out how we’d have liked and we have to deal with this curve ball.  If you think of us, you could pray for us as things move forward.  There are more doctors to see and possibly more tests to run.  We are asking for a clear picture so that we can know exactly what we are dealing with and how best to help John.

Honestly, today is bittersweet.  I certainly don’t love the new direction we’re heading.  However, there is cause to rejoice:  I am on my way to San Luis Obispo to pick up my boy.  I will look at him, hug him, feed him and do everything I can to help him get well.  And I will trust that the God who knew about this long before any of us even took a breath will keep us in His care and guide us.

“But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works.”  Psalm 73:28 NASB

A Season of Change

My parents came over for dinner tonight; we had lasagna, garlic bread, left-over Ding Dong Cake, Tillamook ice cream and Mega Stuf Oreos.  (Why is there only one "f" in Stuf?  It doesn't make sense.)  The candles made the house smell cozy and the Broncos are winning.  It's been a good evening.

Unfortunately, a bit of sadness and reality crept in and my heart started hurting just a little bit as I recalled a conversation that I had with my dad about a week ago...

Some of you may remember that two years ago I blogged about my mom's recent diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer's.   It came out of the blue, it hurt a lot, and it forever changed our lives.  Overall, she's done pretty well since then.  The medication that she's been taking seems to be helping some, but no one can deny the slow progression of the disease.  Due to the onset of some new neurological symptoms, they are toying with the idea of reclassifying her with a different degenerative disease, but at this point it's all word games.  We know where it is inevitably leading. 

With that in mind, my dad told me last week that my mom will no longer be cooking Thanksgiving dinner.  We will still be celebrating at their house, none of us are ready to give that up yet, but I will be doing the cooking.  My dad will help; he likes to and we'll have fun puttering in the kitchen together.  But she's progressed to the point where it would be very difficult for her to take on a big meal like that anymore. 

Before I continue, I would beg those of you who know her and who still see her to not look up on her with pity or to say anything about it.  The last thing she needs is for someone to come up to her at church and say, "I'm so sorry to hear that you're unable to tackle Thanksgiving dinner anymore. How sad that must be for you."  While it may be well intentioned, that wouldn't help her.  As hard as it is for us to accept these changes, it must be infinitely more frustrating and painful for her!  All she needs right now, and my dad as well, is encouragement and love, not pity or sorrow.  And prayer.  They could both always use prayer.

But for me, as I watched her hands shake this evening, it hit home to me that there's been a shift now and there's no going back.  And I don't like it.  I don't want my parents to decline.  I don't want my role to shift to more of a caretaker.  Not because I don't want to help them, heaven's no!  Of course I'll do whatever it takes, whenever it is called for and I'll never mind any of it.  But I really want them to be healthy and happy and for things to be like they used to be.   It hurts me to see the changes and be powerless to stop them.  And sometimes the weight of all that is to come, and the knowledge that without any siblings, it will all fall on my shoulders, well, it seems too heavy sometimes. 

We'll make it, I'm sure; one day, one year at a time.  But I'm afraid that there will be many tears along the way.  I've never been one to like change; I like this one even less.

Shredded

Yesterday I got a hair-brained idea. 

As I was putzing around on the computer before we went to church, I saw an ad for Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred.  Honestly, I'd never heard of it before.  Clearly I've been under a fitness rock for some time.  Sigh.

Around this time last year, having reached my highest weight to date, I decided that beginning January 2nd, I would be making some changes.  I dove right in and I really did make some good progress.  By the end of April, I'd lost fifteen pounds.  While that was awesome, I still had a good thirty to forty pounds to go and I got overwhelmed and off track. I completely fell off the wagon.  So now, a year later when I could have been near my goal weight by now, I find myself having gained back all that I lost and needing to once again make changes.

I've been meaning to get back to the gym, but I don't know that I'm going to be able to have time for it until after Christmas.  Yes, I could get up at 5am and do it; no, I'm not THAT committed.  So, when I saw the 30 Day Shred, I wondered if that might be just the thing to get me started.  Against my better judgement, I gave it a try this morning.

Whoa.

It's only been about four hours and I'm already sore.  I can tell that by the end of the night, it might be a project just making it up and down the stairs.  I have no idea how I'm going to be able to do it again tomorrow.  I will try though.  I'm praying, you can join me, that my back will hold out; I have some disk (disc?) damage.  I should also remember to do jumping jacks correctly so that I don't hurt my foot again. Don't ask.

Will it be enough to help me lose weight in the next 30 days?  Don't know.  Hopefully, it'll keep me from gaining too much over the holidays and aid me in regaining some good habits.

We'll see!

Rewriting Christmas Songs

Sing along with me, will you? 
I've penned a new verse to It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year:


It's the most asthmatic time of the year.
With the damp air a-blowing, I'll keep neb-u-lizing - for my lungs I fear!
It's the most asthmatic time...of the year!


It seems cruel that my absolute favorite time of the year, November through February, is also the time that I most struggle to breathe.  The moist, cold air kills me.  This year it's starting early; there's a heaviness in my lungs that won't subside.  My barky cough is returning and I've already spent multiple days tied to my inhaler. 

Oh well.  It's a reasonably small price to pay for the glorious, heavenly cold weather. 
I really, really do love it. Cold, wind, rain...I come alive.
Bring it on, weatherman! 

Got To Let It Go

(Did anyone catch the old-school Amy Grant reference in my title? That's about all the creativity I can muster on a Monday morning.)

This coming Saturday is a day that I've been both greatly looking forward to AND dreading. It's annual family photo day. I'm looking forward to it (rain, stay away!) because it always turns into a super fun evening with our photographer and her family, and she always does an amazing job! I dread it because, as you can see from the photo in a previous post, I'm not anywhere near my ideal weight. I've even toyed with the idea of only having pictures of the kids done this year.

Each year I tell myself that I'm going to lose weight and each year I don't. I could tell you that it's because I'm busy with all of my volunteer organizations or that my back hurts so exercising is hard...really I could list any number of excuses. However, that's all that they would be, excuses. I need to find a way to exercise more and eat less. Calories in must be less than calories expended. It's math that even I'm capable of doing.

Please don't misunderstand my intent in blogging this; this isn't a sneaky way of soliciting a bunch of people to say, "Oh, you look fine!" My reason for posting this is so that I have some accountability. It's fully within my power to start making some positive changes, and I think that by posting here, I just might be able to succeed. Maybe.

I spent some time last night thinking about exactly what I plan on doing. It's not realistic for me to declare myself to be on a diet and promise to start consuming only 1,200 calories a day. I need to set realistic goals. Therefore, I have decided that beginning today, for one week I won't be having any dessert-ish items. Now, you might think, "No dessert for a week? That's it?" However, that's kind of a big deal for me. We have TONS of crap in the house. As I sit here typing, I'm actually looking at a partial roll of Oreos that I brought upstairs a few nights ago. There are many candy pumpkins in the candy jar, there are more Oreos in the cabinet and there is a donut left from Peterson's sitting on the counter. I'm not kidding, there's stuff everywhere.

So, for one week, I'm not going to have any of it. Creating new habits will take a while, but I have to start somewhere. I'm not giving up all sugar; I need my vanilla lattes in the morning. But cookies/candies/cakes...I'm giving them up for a week.

Eek. We'll see how this goes. I might be really cranky in a day or so!

Clearing Things Up

As some of you are aware, I am not what you'd call a "Pillar of Health". At any given time, my medicine cabinet rivals even the best of pharmacies. I am happy to say, however, that there are only three medications that I currently have to take on a daily basis.

The other day, I was reading the insert information on said medications after I picked them up at the pharmacy. It occurred to me that for two of them, I take them for secondary reasons, not the primary, most common reasons listed. I wonder what my pharmacist, who has known me for years, thinks of me.

Based on my three daily medications, I would like to clarify....

What I am: A happily married woman who does not want more children, who has trouble sleeping, and has frequent cold sore outbreaks.

What I am not: A woman of questionable character, who is depressed and has a STD.

Just What The Doctor Ordered

Today was that day; the day that we all look forward to each year. Today was my annual physical. Mind you, while it's never what I'd call a pleasant experience, I have one of the best doctors in the world so it's never really that bad. One of our scheduled discussion items was my blood work.

Let me back up...

Last year, I had some labs that came back less than ideal. A few of the numbers were downright spooky. Basically, my arteries were thinking of closing up and quitting and I was approaching numbers that were bringing me nearer to Sugarbetes. (That's diabetes for those who didn't watch SNL on Saturday night....)

After receiving said lab results, I was told to "eat better and exercise and we'll recheck in 6 months". Honestly, I didn't do anything; I made no changes whatsoever. I don't really have a good reason, either. I just chose not to make any changes.

Six months ago, I went in for another set of labs and to no one's surprise, they came back worse. My doc was not happy with me at all. She told me that if I didn't make some drastic changes, I was going to have to start medication for these issues and cut out all fat and sugar. (Seriously, who can do that?) I quietly listened to the lecture, promised to do better (or at least to do something), and agreed that I'd have my labs drawn at the end of August so that they would be ready for today's appointment.

Did I make what I'd call drastic changes? No. But I made some little ones. I ate better over the summer and started exercising occasionally. I started taking baby steps.

Several weeks ago though, I hit a road bump. I thought about giving up; I was very frustrated. Thankfully, a wise friend chewed me out and got me back on track. So I kept with it, I did what I could and I had my blood drawn about ten days ago.

You know what I found out today? My labs are GREAT! She said I'm the "poster child for what eating in moderation and exercising can do". She hugged me! Woo hoo!

I'm very thankful, this has been a very stressful time for me. I'm eating better, I want to continue that. I'm exercising daily and loving it (more on that progress to come in another blog). All in all, it was a great physical.

You wanna know how I celebrated my newly diagnosed health? I went to the mall and ate a Cinnabon for lunch, of course!

Yep. That's me. The Poster Child.