What I Would Give For...

 ..Some self-control.

My Ideal of Dinner

The past two weeks have been full of eating every food in sight and lacking in the burning of those calories. Instead of the steadfast dedication to exercise and mindful eating I have been munching and getting most of my calories for the day after 7 pm. I haven't been exercising at my parents' house since the treadmill belt burst, leaving me with the option of walking outside--something that I can easily talk myself out of with the weather turning cold and windy.

I have a new treadmill at my house, so I don't have that excuse. (Though that only has me covered for 3-4 nights a week.)  It has far more bells and whistles than I need, but it is pretty cool. I can't take it back since it weighs 300 lbs and we barely got it to the house and set up. It is awesome though. If I get a new one for the parental units' house it will be about half the cost and, hopefully, a heck of a lot lighter since we have to get it up a flight of stairs and in and out of the truck. Choices choices.

So I am back up to 200 pounds and up from the low of 194 that I was at a few weeks ago. I will get back down there. I WILL get over this roadblock. And get back on the dang exercise wagon. 

Self-control. Something I will find again.

 

Holidays and Long-Term Trauma

Holiday with the Family

It was 2012, Christmastime. Jason and I had just made the hardest decision of our lives: deciding to stop his treatment and begin hospice care. Knowing that it was his last holiday season we decided to see as much family as we could. We flew to out to see both my parents and my brother's family just before Christmas and had a nice visit (though I was sick as a dog when we were there). After that we made a quick hop over to the Mid-West for a visit of all of Jason's family who had assembled for the occasion. It was a homecoming of sorts, as I had first met all of my in-laws at a gathering in this same place in 2005. 

The hardest part of the visits was knowing that this was really a goodbye for Jason. There were no words to be said since nobody knew what to say in this instance other than, "I love you." And that was enough. To be there was the greatest gift, almost five years from his diagnosis, eight from when I had met all of his nice people who I call family. 

It was the time of me realizing how lucky were to have five years together, instead of 11 months. In that time he participated in 4 clinical trials (1 more that he tried but didn't qualify for) that helped the life expectancy of the disease go from that 11 months up to 15 months. It may not sound like much, but I like to think that his generosity (and let's face it, desperation) helped that to happen. Of course, he may have just been an outlier that messed up the curve!

So now when certain times of year crop up, like Christmas, I tend to have bouts of the black clouds in my mind. Some more than others, but this year hit stronger than 2020. Maybe I just had other things to focus on--thank you very much, COVID-19, for providing me a distraction. Or something. That five years was hard. Really hard. But it was worth it. Unfortunately, I was left with a few hiccups from the process. Eh, few, lots, same difference. Now they are cropping up when least (or most) expected.

And now I will focus on remembering the good times, like that Christmas as it really was a good holiday, despite the circumstances. When that doesn't work, I will cry, scream, or zone out at nothing at all until the feelings pass. Ya do what ya gotta do. 

To Grandmother's House We Go!

And it Was...Interesting

Dad and I decided last-minute to take a trip up to my grandparents' for Christmas, dog in tow. Spur-of-the-moment road trips are nothing new for us. Work was very accommodating switching around days off and such so we could have a longer weekend. That meant two days of 7 hours' driving instead of one marathon 14 hour hell (that we have done many times before). Buffeting wind the whole way up and back down, but no weather outside that to speak of.

Getting there was uneventful and my grandmother was in tears at seeing us. Even my grandfather, normally the stoic one, was visibly happy to see us there. Neither of them are doing well, health wise, and this was a pick-me-up that they really needed.

But.

I am a wee bit left of them on the political spectrum. Where "wee" is actually "well on the other side of the mountain" left of them. They know I hate tv news, and Grandpa pretty much followed my request of no cable news. Grandma did not and kept trying to back me into corners that would only sour the occasion. I dodged most of it, only skirting some dangerous territory by a well-placed silence. One roadblock: down.

Bigger roadblock: my grandparents had never been anything but respectful to each other (with the occasional outliers of course) in years past. Boy has that changed, on both sides of the relationship. I think pain, fear, resentment, and frustration are all wearing on them and they are taking it out on each other. Not just disrespectful--spiteful. They were called on it (gently) and it seemed to work for a while. It just kept creeping in.

I think Thursday afternoon till early Sunday morning was a little more than enough for me, but much appreciated--and needed--by them. And I will enjoy being with them as long as I can, even if they drive me crazy in the process. Now it's time to get back on the healthy eating road (versus the train wreck that was last weekend) and focus on riding that instead of eating out of frustration.

Final Diagnosis: Stone Hoarding Collector

While I like pretty rocks, I do not support the hoarding of them in any of my organs. It's official: my gallbladder has been collecting shiny stones without permission for some time. As such, it is time for surgery. I get to talk to a surgeon...eventually. Then I get to take out the offender...farther out from there. I cannot wait to get this darn thing out of me!

The last surgery I had was a life-saver, while this one, which is not particularly life-threatening, is a definitely a quality-of-life one. All signs point to laparoscopy, so recovery should be quick and easy. I have the time off from work and (probably) have someone to cover for me whenever that happens, short or long term. God, I love my job! Hopefully it is in a short enough time that my helper is still here, otherwise there will be a week of un-entered donations. Here's hoping--especially since that would mean four months out. Likely, but not ideal.

So there you have it: problem identified, eventually to be solved. Hoping for sooner rather than later. Anybody else out there with the same problem? I'm looking to see what I am in for.

It's Cold. Moreso for Others.

No Room at the Inn

What about those that don't have any way to stay warm, or have a safe place to actually enjoy the season? I work to help some of these men, but it still makes me uncomfortable knowing that I have so much more than they do. But helping is what I work to do. It keeps me appreciative of my state in life.

Unlike most places in the US, things just turned cold here. 17 degrees overnight means that I have to open the living quarters of the house up to the back workshop and such. I don't want frozen pipes, and this is the easiest way to ensure that is less likely. No snow to speak of, of course, but the cold has indeed settled in for the short term.

But for me, that all that makes the rest of the house rather colder than I usually keep it. That means the crocheted glovelettes for my hands, cozy slippers for my toes, a family-made blanket for my lap, and holiday decorations to light up the room. I put up the decorations last weekend and just today dug out the warm gear. I know that I have more than others. But we all do what we can to take advantage of what we are given. 

Having said that, as someone who works at a homeless shelter, Yes, we appreciate all your gifts (especially underwear!) but what we really need are funds to keep the lights on and people fed. But truly, think of those with less. Food for pantries or soup kitchens, clothing for charity (please not places that charge for their goods), and toiletries for shelters. All of this helps.

!@#$%^& Bodies!

Doctors listen, but apparently ER docs don't always agree. The past months have been full of a FUn medical mystery. The specialist seems to think that it is 95% chance of one thing, but after going to the emergency room for it this last week out of desperation, the others tell me that nothing is wrong with me, despite obvious pain when prodded and apparently lying blood work. Granted, the two imaging tests they ran didn't show anything of import, but they didn't do the test that makes the most sense. There from 11pm till 4pm. At least the problem did eventually resolve itself. 

But I'm understandably confused. I won't know till next Tuesday which people are right via medical test that the ER didn't run. Till then: low fat, light meals, preferably not near bedtime. Which is the opposite of my nightly regimen of treats after dinner. At least with watching what I eat in general I know how to estimate where foods lie on my scale of "good to go" and "Aw !@#$ it, I can deal with the pain"...which I inevitably regret for hours. You would think I'd learn my lesson by now, but it just... *sigh* I'm done. I'm so ready to be over this. And I now know that going to the ER for this is out since they only do what I do at home, but via IV instead of pills/baths. Bah!

At least the treadmill at my house has been replaced (with a shiny new one!) just in time for the belt to rip on the old one at my parents' house. Trying to cannibalize the belt and roller from the broken one to see if it will fit the old beltless one. I haven't managed to pull myself outside since it broke. The one at my house should see lots of use this weekend--assuming I get useful sleep, unlike the past three days.

Random Skills--Tasty Skills

Fruits of Labor 

Jill of all trades? That might just be me, and boy has it been a good thing over the years! When my husband was still alive we had a saying that what he didn't know, I probably had at least a grasp on how to fix it and vice versa.

I have so many other random skills that crop up as useful from time to time. Others just are niche followings (like making mail armor). The leatherworking occasionally becomes necessary. Computers? I thrive on electronics in general. Survival skills? Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. More things just pop up when needed.

Recently the target of my labor was attacking the plethora of pears from my mother's tree. Cranberries and pears as shown in the photo, and plain pears for the latest batches. Mom and I have a deal: she preps the fruit and I do the (easy) job of actually canning them. So far I have only had one jar out of at least three batches of 11, which is a pretty good record.

And then there are times when it is just time to throw up my hands and call in a professional. This is a strong skill to master. Know when to quit.