If you told me that someday I would miss a man that cackles like an old woman, manic to distraction, and still pulled stunts like peeing in his sister's shampoo bottle, well I would have told you that you were as crazy as that guy sounds. It's been six years since Dad was killed by a drunk driver, and I miss everything about him. Well, almost everything. That shampoo business was just wrong.
I wish I could say that I honored him well today, that I did and cooked all sorts of fun stuff. Instead I watched sad movies, ate little and napped long. But something that I'm truly thankful for, I had a nice dream about him. I think it's hard enough to have a dream about the person you want to see most, but to do it and have the person look how they are supposed to and act like they are supposed to is darn near impossible for me. Usually my naps include some stressful nightmare. This dream was lovely and fun. When I got up, Pandora played lots of Van Morrison.
A very long time ago, I went to an outdoor Van Morrison concert with him and my family. I was too young to know who I was listening to, and all of the music sounded the same to me. What stayed with me from that night was resting on our picnic blanket and watching the clouds drift. And how happy he was to see this guy sing.
I have a small dark bonus that surprised me. I can't remember the date I was diagnosed with PH. I know it was just the month before he died, but I have no idea when. So many other people that I have met have that date seared in their mind. I can barely remember the moment I was told. I gotta say, I'm kind of grateful for that. So much about this condition is paralyzingly scary, but having such an immense distraction happen at pretty much the same time really helped to cement that this is just a thing. Today I have PH. Who knows about tomorrow? It's not something that made his death meaningful or anywhere close to worth it, but it is the tiniest string of silver, and I need every trick to keep my mind on track.
I know I'll be thinking of him even more over the next few days, and I'll try to contain any manic overabundance of cooking, but I will be practicing my crazy hag cackle and my kitchen dancing skills. Just me and Van.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Not The Blue Ribbon I Was Wanting
Winter has awoken, and so has my internal champion weight prized pig. And she is huuungry. Christmas before last, our family lost someone who was deeply cared for. I marked the occasion by putting on 5lbs. I guess over the last two years I had been worried that my 5 would be lonely, so I gave them another 5. Now I'm in no pants land. The size I should be in is snug and the size larger falls down. My abdomen stays on the tender side because of water retention and my ever changing Flolan Rorschach spots. So it's either wear something that hurts or risk accidentally pantsing myself. I'm starting to see the sense in velour jog suits.
When I was at my if-I-turn-sideways-you-can't-see-me-weight, I was thrilled to put on some poundage. I needed the body fat to stay warm, not get painfully hungry, not fear wooden benches. I don't think you can know the importance of a padded bottom until you sit down hard at a picnic table. The extra weight seems to fit me well, I've gotten more complements than ever. But still....
Somehow this last 10 seems unfair. Like squatters have taken over my thighs. My goal is to evict 5lbs. Doing so will put me back into all of last year's fashions and pants size. So, in an effort to reclaim what is mine, I decided to write down the healthy meals that are easy for me to make and then cross referenced them with what I actually had in the pantry and then made out an excel file of the items (numbering 8) I needed and which stores I would need to go to (numbering 4) . Then I had to clean out the fridge of desserts and dinners past that were not actually going to get eaten, got rid of the stuff that no one should eat, poured over recipe books sure that someone else could come up with better meal plan that did not include protein powder mac&cheese. Grilled my husband on what he liked to eat, tried to come up with a game plan of restaurants that were safe for me to eat at (sushi, Thai, salad bar), realized that even what I actually eat there is never as angelic as I had originally hoped (fried tofu, green curry, opt for pizza instead of salad). Decided that I could no longer be trusted to eat out and must give it up. Mourned the loss of my lunch's out with mini ranger cookies. After 2 hours of making myself crazy, I decided that just paying attention to what I ate would be easier. Today was going to be the first day.
Pre-Breakfast
1 cup OJ mixed with fresh Pomegranate Cranberry Juice
100 Calories
Breakfast 7a.m
1 cup Buckwheat Flakes with 1/4 Banana and Flax Milk
200 Calories
Snack 10a.m.
1/2 small bag Potato Chips with 1 tbl Salmon Spread and Cherry Coke
310 Calories
Lunch 12:30p.m.
Cheeseburger and Fried Onion Petals with Iced Tea
Oh the humanity! Calories
Stop on the way home 1:15p.m.
Chocolate Croissant and Almond Pastry
Oh the pounds will show up tomorrow, bet they're on your bottom, tomorrow! Calories
Nap to avoid eating anything else 1:37p.m.
Considering a sleeping pill - does it have calories?
3:30p.m.
Woke up waay too soon.
3 bites of Almond Pastry, 1 of Chocolate Croissant
1 Zantac after I remembered that heartburn was the reason I woke up. Pastry did not help.
Doesn't count, still asleep. Calories
Dinner 6:30p.m.
Rotkohl, Steamed Asparagus, Honey's Turkey Meatloaf
No idea, but I didn't use oil, butter, bacon, salt or cheese, so I don't care. Calories
11:30p.m. Bedtime
5 large purple Grapes
? Calories
Okay...sooo. Yeah. How have I not put on 15 lbs? How did I fit all of that food into me? Is there any Cherry Coke left? At least I know that whatever I do tomorrow will automatically be better than what I did today. Especially if I put the cola in Karl's lunch bag.
When I was at my if-I-turn-sideways-you-can't-see-me-weight, I was thrilled to put on some poundage. I needed the body fat to stay warm, not get painfully hungry, not fear wooden benches. I don't think you can know the importance of a padded bottom until you sit down hard at a picnic table. The extra weight seems to fit me well, I've gotten more complements than ever. But still....
Somehow this last 10 seems unfair. Like squatters have taken over my thighs. My goal is to evict 5lbs. Doing so will put me back into all of last year's fashions and pants size. So, in an effort to reclaim what is mine, I decided to write down the healthy meals that are easy for me to make and then cross referenced them with what I actually had in the pantry and then made out an excel file of the items (numbering 8) I needed and which stores I would need to go to (numbering 4) . Then I had to clean out the fridge of desserts and dinners past that were not actually going to get eaten, got rid of the stuff that no one should eat, poured over recipe books sure that someone else could come up with better meal plan that did not include protein powder mac&cheese. Grilled my husband on what he liked to eat, tried to come up with a game plan of restaurants that were safe for me to eat at (sushi, Thai, salad bar), realized that even what I actually eat there is never as angelic as I had originally hoped (fried tofu, green curry, opt for pizza instead of salad). Decided that I could no longer be trusted to eat out and must give it up. Mourned the loss of my lunch's out with mini ranger cookies. After 2 hours of making myself crazy, I decided that just paying attention to what I ate would be easier. Today was going to be the first day.
Pre-Breakfast
1 cup OJ mixed with fresh Pomegranate Cranberry Juice
100 Calories
Breakfast 7a.m
1 cup Buckwheat Flakes with 1/4 Banana and Flax Milk
200 Calories
Snack 10a.m.
1/2 small bag Potato Chips with 1 tbl Salmon Spread and Cherry Coke
310 Calories
Lunch 12:30p.m.
Cheeseburger and Fried Onion Petals with Iced Tea
Oh the humanity! Calories
Stop on the way home 1:15p.m.
Chocolate Croissant and Almond Pastry
Oh the pounds will show up tomorrow, bet they're on your bottom, tomorrow! Calories
Nap to avoid eating anything else 1:37p.m.
Considering a sleeping pill - does it have calories?
3:30p.m.
Woke up waay too soon.
3 bites of Almond Pastry, 1 of Chocolate Croissant
1 Zantac after I remembered that heartburn was the reason I woke up. Pastry did not help.
Doesn't count, still asleep. Calories
Dinner 6:30p.m.
Rotkohl, Steamed Asparagus, Honey's Turkey Meatloaf
No idea, but I didn't use oil, butter, bacon, salt or cheese, so I don't care. Calories
11:30p.m. Bedtime
5 large purple Grapes
? Calories
Okay...sooo. Yeah. How have I not put on 15 lbs? How did I fit all of that food into me? Is there any Cherry Coke left? At least I know that whatever I do tomorrow will automatically be better than what I did today. Especially if I put the cola in Karl's lunch bag.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Runaway Shopping Cart
Day 1, Living Like We're On Food Stamps
Breakfast started late, so I made a quick pad thai, Karl had coffee and I had iced mint green tea.
Total cost: $1.75
Then we went to Costco. The experiment was declared dead all of four minutes later. One of our staples was on sale, so we loaded up. A third of the month's food budget was gone. We celebrated by going to Burgers and Brats - I had a veggie burger with onion rings, Karl had the Road Rage Burger with fries. We both had iced teas.
Total cost: $23.46
After my nap, I had a small ramekin of greek yogurt with a bit of blueberry jam and a glass of my iced mint green tea.
Total cost: 50cents.
Dinner was chipotle honey braised chicken with cheesy rice.
Total cost: $5.50.
What I decided to do instead was to create one chart for our monthly expenditures and another for what exactly I'm buying at the grocery store. The second chart also tracked what got used up, and what got tossed. These charts are kept on the front of the refrigerator.
This system has totally worked. 12 days into the month and I have already been shamed into eating out much much less. Our household had collectively eaten out more times than days had gone by for the month. Unfortunately, Jane and Coco cannot be included in the math. If they were, I so would have had Thai food today.
Breakfast started late, so I made a quick pad thai, Karl had coffee and I had iced mint green tea.
Total cost: $1.75
Then we went to Costco. The experiment was declared dead all of four minutes later. One of our staples was on sale, so we loaded up. A third of the month's food budget was gone. We celebrated by going to Burgers and Brats - I had a veggie burger with onion rings, Karl had the Road Rage Burger with fries. We both had iced teas.
Total cost: $23.46
After my nap, I had a small ramekin of greek yogurt with a bit of blueberry jam and a glass of my iced mint green tea.
Total cost: 50cents.
Dinner was chipotle honey braised chicken with cheesy rice.
Total cost: $5.50.
What I decided to do instead was to create one chart for our monthly expenditures and another for what exactly I'm buying at the grocery store. The second chart also tracked what got used up, and what got tossed. These charts are kept on the front of the refrigerator.
This system has totally worked. 12 days into the month and I have already been shamed into eating out much much less. Our household had collectively eaten out more times than days had gone by for the month. Unfortunately, Jane and Coco cannot be included in the math. If they were, I so would have had Thai food today.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Charmed Life
There have been plenty of times I have opened my adorable mouth and out popped something that I totally regretted. Like, "But you're my Watermelon Man" or "Yes, I would like another margarita" or "Sure, that Zipper ride does look like fun". Lessons learned: no one likes to have confirmation that their tummy resembles in both size and sound a watermelon, never have more than one drink in a night when you haven't had any in a month, and rides that spin in two different ways at one time will become what makes you shudder every time you pass by an amusement park.
My latest faux pas was "You'd have to do it for than a month before you would start to see what it's really like". Two months would have been more like it, but thankfully I did not say that. My innocent statement has signed us up for a month of eating like we're on food stamps. Almost. And really, not at all. But it will be different.
Karl had read on the internet that the Governor of Arizona was going to eat on $27 for one week to see what it was like to be on food stamps in his state. Arizona gives the least amount of food assistance than any other state. He lost four pounds. In the beginning our budget was $54, thinking that we would just double what that guy was doing. Then I looked up what Texas gives, $367 maximum for two people, to it's residence. I liked that number better.
Something else that is giving much relief is that I do not have to take into account what is already in the house. That's the main way that will be much different in our food stamp experience. I'm actually okay with this because I do have quite a bit hoarded away that should be used up. Sales of favorite items can lead to a cluttered closet. I think stocking up on food may be to me what shoes are to other women. Right now I have 8 jars of jam in the pantry, and 8 pairs of shoes in the bedroom closet; 3 pairs that I always wear, 5 that I hardly ever do but will never give up.
I love all of the jams.
Tomorrow will be our first day. What I like least about this experiment is that I am losing my lunches out. On most days I put together a small breakfast for us, lunch for Karl to take to work, a midday snack for me and, on most nights, a dinner. Our small dishwasher is always ready to run or unload and the counters always need wiping down. For my lunch I looove not eating my own cooking or having to clean up after myself. Huge luxury, one that I am not ready to give up. This is the second reason that I am happy to not have to count the food already in the house. It still allows for the possibility of a taco or a springroll, and possibilities make everything better.
When I started my meal planing, the first thing I decided was that I was not going to sacrifice some of my personal food policies. All meat and milk brought into the house will still be organic, grassfed or free range. I know, the end result is that the animal is still be used for food in some way, but I like to buy from people that I at least think are treating them more humanly before they end up on our table. I'm also going to keep buying certain organic foods. Potatoes that don't sprout kind of creep me out.
All of this has mostly just reminded me how lucky we are. We're not about to put a pool in the backyard, but my weekly grocery budget is more than $91 and we still get to eat out. Karl wants to see if it can be done, and with a little adjustment and much complaining on my part, it can. My greatest hope would be... that we get to buy a swimming pool.
My latest faux pas was "You'd have to do it for than a month before you would start to see what it's really like". Two months would have been more like it, but thankfully I did not say that. My innocent statement has signed us up for a month of eating like we're on food stamps. Almost. And really, not at all. But it will be different.
Karl had read on the internet that the Governor of Arizona was going to eat on $27 for one week to see what it was like to be on food stamps in his state. Arizona gives the least amount of food assistance than any other state. He lost four pounds. In the beginning our budget was $54, thinking that we would just double what that guy was doing. Then I looked up what Texas gives, $367 maximum for two people, to it's residence. I liked that number better.
Something else that is giving much relief is that I do not have to take into account what is already in the house. That's the main way that will be much different in our food stamp experience. I'm actually okay with this because I do have quite a bit hoarded away that should be used up. Sales of favorite items can lead to a cluttered closet. I think stocking up on food may be to me what shoes are to other women. Right now I have 8 jars of jam in the pantry, and 8 pairs of shoes in the bedroom closet; 3 pairs that I always wear, 5 that I hardly ever do but will never give up.
I love all of the jams.
Tomorrow will be our first day. What I like least about this experiment is that I am losing my lunches out. On most days I put together a small breakfast for us, lunch for Karl to take to work, a midday snack for me and, on most nights, a dinner. Our small dishwasher is always ready to run or unload and the counters always need wiping down. For my lunch I looove not eating my own cooking or having to clean up after myself. Huge luxury, one that I am not ready to give up. This is the second reason that I am happy to not have to count the food already in the house. It still allows for the possibility of a taco or a springroll, and possibilities make everything better.
When I started my meal planing, the first thing I decided was that I was not going to sacrifice some of my personal food policies. All meat and milk brought into the house will still be organic, grassfed or free range. I know, the end result is that the animal is still be used for food in some way, but I like to buy from people that I at least think are treating them more humanly before they end up on our table. I'm also going to keep buying certain organic foods. Potatoes that don't sprout kind of creep me out.
All of this has mostly just reminded me how lucky we are. We're not about to put a pool in the backyard, but my weekly grocery budget is more than $91 and we still get to eat out. Karl wants to see if it can be done, and with a little adjustment and much complaining on my part, it can. My greatest hope would be... that we get to buy a swimming pool.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Not That Kind Of Girl
You may think with having an incurable heart/lung condition that I would be the constantly praying type, but I'm not. I do think loads of happy thoughts for my challenged organs and I think tons and tons of happy thoughts for loved ones, but very rarely do I ever send out a real prayer. When I do it's usually because someone else has just told me that they have been praying for me or that they need prayers, so I oblige. I know, all of this isn't very Texan of me, but there it is. I also liken telling everyone your religious views to telling everyone what you like to do in the bedroom. All of it is very personal, and none of it is anyone else's business. That being said, there is a point to confessing my praying habits. Don't worry, I'll leave my bedroom out of it.
Something else that I hardly ever do is tell complete strangers about my condition. I also most definitely do not dominate conversations with information about me. I have no need to make hostages out of the people I meet. But all bets are off if I get started on what I made for lunch or dinner. I can talk about that till you fall asleep, and with so much detail that you probably will.
This year I have been helping with the local pulmonary hypertension 5k run and 1m walk. I would tell you the name of it, but it has changed so many times that I no longer know what it is. It may be Zebra PHriends 5k Run and 1m PHun Walk. Our mascot is a purple zebra in running shoes. So many of us are first diagnosed with adult onset asthma that we need doctors to go a bit against training and instead of handing us an inhaler and sending us on our way, we need them to do the unpopular thing and schedule a possibly unnecessary test (echo). In other words, those hoof beats might be a zebra, not a horse.
We've gotten so much help with fundraising I've been a bit overwhelmed. Neither Mom nor I have asked for funds before and the experience has been terrifying and amazing. The first person we asked for money is the man who owns our favorite local Italian restaurant. He gets asked so often (the first of many times that we would hear this) and he usually turns people away, but instead he was our first donator. We were so nervous excited that my mom accidentally knocked over and broke her water glass when we got back to our table. Still not sure if maybe we should have given that gift certificate back. They shrugged it off, but I still do not recommend smashing stuff as a celebratory act after someone gives you money.
And that's how the roller coaster ride started. In a flurry of e-mails, meetings, printings, towns officially recognizing a pulmonary hypertension month, and a dinner, everything was coming together. Everything but the media.
Most of my time is spent grocery shopping, resting, napping or cooking. My group of friends is much beloved, but very small and also very far away. When the subject of getting our name publicly out into the world came up, I automatically knew that I was not going to be the person to do it. But still, I recognized the importance (HUGE!) of it, and so I prayed. Someone with connections contacted me, but still not knowing what to do with the information, I passed it on to our group leader. Pretty much all I was certain I could do was hope that someone else in our group would get inspired. That, and pray.
I do hope I've properly painted the picture of two women (Mom and myself) who have no idea what they are doing and who constantly feel like maybe someone else should be in charge. Even after all of our accomplishments and successes.
This morning we met with Parks and Recreation in Coppell to start finalizing our plans for race day. Even though Mom confirmed our appointment yesterday, we were not on the books for today. We were the third ones there and if it hadn't been for the niceness of the guy who showed up after us, we would have been selected last for the day. An unexpected benefit of the lateness is that the woman on our committee who should most definitely be in charge of doing all of this organizing stuff was also able to attend.
My last right heart cath a few weeks ago was less than stellar. My orders have been to increase my flolan once a week for 6 weeks. Last year I increased 3 times total. Last night I finally had to add an extra vial to the mix. I pretty much feel retched. Leading up to the meeting and all through it my mantra was "don't hurl on the table, don't hurl on the table". Thankfully, I did not hurl on the table, but after a couple of hours my morning apple apricot sauce was gone and the particular pain and nausea that accompanies flolan is quite unique. I either needed food or a trashcan. I haven't been to Cafe Express in a year, but it suddenly sounded like the best place ever. Amazingly we were heading right for it. Massive water pills had kicked in so when we got to our destination I about jumped out of the car for the lady's room.
If the Parks Department had seen us on time, then I would not have been so hungry when we left, my water pills would not have gone active when I was on the road, if I had gone into the restaurant with my mom instead of bolting out of the car, then I never would have met Melissa d'Arabian from the Food Network in the lady's room of Cafe Express. I wouldn't have gone with my mom to Williams Sonoma for her book signing after our lunch. We wouldn't have taken one look at the huge line and decided to leave, we wouldn't have met the nicest cashier who I amazingly told that I would not be able to stay for the signing after all because of my heart/lung condition, and wouldn't have found out that her mom had a lung condition, I wouldn't have bought a new cookbook, or been taken to the front of the line where I had my picture taken with and had my book signed by Melissa d'Arabian, I would never have given her information on our race and pulmonary hypertension and let her know that I had been praying to meet someone that could help us get the word out about our cause, I wouldn't have been given the chance to let that nice sales lady know that I was going to pray for her, and Mom would never have wept a little in a Williams Sonoma because the whole experience was just too sweet.
I still can't believe that I met Melissa d'Arabian in a lady's room and I am extremely thankful that I did not hurl on her.
Something else that I hardly ever do is tell complete strangers about my condition. I also most definitely do not dominate conversations with information about me. I have no need to make hostages out of the people I meet. But all bets are off if I get started on what I made for lunch or dinner. I can talk about that till you fall asleep, and with so much detail that you probably will.
This year I have been helping with the local pulmonary hypertension 5k run and 1m walk. I would tell you the name of it, but it has changed so many times that I no longer know what it is. It may be Zebra PHriends 5k Run and 1m PHun Walk. Our mascot is a purple zebra in running shoes. So many of us are first diagnosed with adult onset asthma that we need doctors to go a bit against training and instead of handing us an inhaler and sending us on our way, we need them to do the unpopular thing and schedule a possibly unnecessary test (echo). In other words, those hoof beats might be a zebra, not a horse.
We've gotten so much help with fundraising I've been a bit overwhelmed. Neither Mom nor I have asked for funds before and the experience has been terrifying and amazing. The first person we asked for money is the man who owns our favorite local Italian restaurant. He gets asked so often (the first of many times that we would hear this) and he usually turns people away, but instead he was our first donator. We were so nervous excited that my mom accidentally knocked over and broke her water glass when we got back to our table. Still not sure if maybe we should have given that gift certificate back. They shrugged it off, but I still do not recommend smashing stuff as a celebratory act after someone gives you money.
And that's how the roller coaster ride started. In a flurry of e-mails, meetings, printings, towns officially recognizing a pulmonary hypertension month, and a dinner, everything was coming together. Everything but the media.
Most of my time is spent grocery shopping, resting, napping or cooking. My group of friends is much beloved, but very small and also very far away. When the subject of getting our name publicly out into the world came up, I automatically knew that I was not going to be the person to do it. But still, I recognized the importance (HUGE!) of it, and so I prayed. Someone with connections contacted me, but still not knowing what to do with the information, I passed it on to our group leader. Pretty much all I was certain I could do was hope that someone else in our group would get inspired. That, and pray.
I do hope I've properly painted the picture of two women (Mom and myself) who have no idea what they are doing and who constantly feel like maybe someone else should be in charge. Even after all of our accomplishments and successes.
This morning we met with Parks and Recreation in Coppell to start finalizing our plans for race day. Even though Mom confirmed our appointment yesterday, we were not on the books for today. We were the third ones there and if it hadn't been for the niceness of the guy who showed up after us, we would have been selected last for the day. An unexpected benefit of the lateness is that the woman on our committee who should most definitely be in charge of doing all of this organizing stuff was also able to attend.
My last right heart cath a few weeks ago was less than stellar. My orders have been to increase my flolan once a week for 6 weeks. Last year I increased 3 times total. Last night I finally had to add an extra vial to the mix. I pretty much feel retched. Leading up to the meeting and all through it my mantra was "don't hurl on the table, don't hurl on the table". Thankfully, I did not hurl on the table, but after a couple of hours my morning apple apricot sauce was gone and the particular pain and nausea that accompanies flolan is quite unique. I either needed food or a trashcan. I haven't been to Cafe Express in a year, but it suddenly sounded like the best place ever. Amazingly we were heading right for it. Massive water pills had kicked in so when we got to our destination I about jumped out of the car for the lady's room.
If the Parks Department had seen us on time, then I would not have been so hungry when we left, my water pills would not have gone active when I was on the road, if I had gone into the restaurant with my mom instead of bolting out of the car, then I never would have met Melissa d'Arabian from the Food Network in the lady's room of Cafe Express. I wouldn't have gone with my mom to Williams Sonoma for her book signing after our lunch. We wouldn't have taken one look at the huge line and decided to leave, we wouldn't have met the nicest cashier who I amazingly told that I would not be able to stay for the signing after all because of my heart/lung condition, and wouldn't have found out that her mom had a lung condition, I wouldn't have bought a new cookbook, or been taken to the front of the line where I had my picture taken with and had my book signed by Melissa d'Arabian, I would never have given her information on our race and pulmonary hypertension and let her know that I had been praying to meet someone that could help us get the word out about our cause, I wouldn't have been given the chance to let that nice sales lady know that I was going to pray for her, and Mom would never have wept a little in a Williams Sonoma because the whole experience was just too sweet.
I still can't believe that I met Melissa d'Arabian in a lady's room and I am extremely thankful that I did not hurl on her.
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