So Emotional

It's amazing what I realize now that I am regaining a sense of normalcy. One huge thing is how much my emotions were effected.

When my father got sick last spring, it was devastating. When I first took my Mom back and forth to the hospital daily to see him, the stress was wicked. But, by the time me passed away the next month, I suddenly felt like I shut down. I initially told my sister that my dam had not yet burst. When I felt a tear roll down my face just before his service began, she asked me "Did the dam finally break?" I had assumed so, but apparently, not, as I dried up as fast as I cried. I barely shed a tear in the days leading up to his funeral and beyond. It bothered me, but I couldn't make any sense of it.

A month later, my sweet little shih tzu Bijou, who I have had nearly 15 years, became ill, and I knew his end was near. I was still sleeping on the couch at night and he cried all night that night. Instead of it breaking my heart like it does now when I think about it, all I wanted him to do was shut up. When he died the next day, I cried for two minutes as I held him before we buried him, then dried up like an old sponge.

I had no idea that it was my illness doing this to me, effecting my mind along with my body. No idea until I got home and felt a rush of emotions, like I wasn't prepared for. I was overjoyed and so thankful and grateful to be home with my husband and son. I had no idea what I was in store for though. Every time I talked with a family member or friend and they'd tell me how they really thought I was dying, the tears would flow. One day, I said something about my Dad, and it felt like my hear ripped in two. I started thinking about how much I loved him and how much I missed him. I thought about the last time I saw him alive, and how hard he was trying to get his last thoughts across to all of us. I started crying and didn't know when I'd stop.

A few weeks later, we brought out the Christmas decorations and we pulled out the stockings. There was Bijou's. Suddenly, I got pushed back six months, back to holding his furry little lifeless body in my arms. I thought about everything we had been through together, and how before Daniel came along, he was my baby. Instant tears.

It was like my being sick prevented my mourning, not once, but twice. But I discovered, it was so much more than that. I heard the song "Because You Loved Me" b Celine Dion and when I heard her sing "You were my voice when I couldn't speak", I burst into tears. I suddenly thought about how Randall stood up for me in the hospital when I had the trach and couldn't talk, not to mention all he did for me over the 10 weeks and beyond, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love. There's a whole post on this subject coming, and it will give such meaning to this breakdown.

Everything effects me so much more intensely now....viral videos, songs, you name it. I guess after being denied my feelings for so long, they're playing catch up. I just pray I never get like that again. .

Emotions are such a special gift. Never take them for granted....please.

Take it From Me - Take Your Meds

While I was in the hospital, after being freed from my 9 IVs, I was given a slew of pills. They started bright and early with my synthroid, then I was brought a smorgasbord to swallow in the late morning, followed by a smaller round just before bed.

As I became more aware, I counted them. First one, then nine, then five more. Fifteen pills a day. I got sent home with a laundry list of prescriptions, including ones for  heartburn, stool softeners....even depression and anxiety. I realized then that half of what they were giving me was to combat the side effects of the other half. Seriously. The pain patch would cause nausea, so I was taking something along the lines of Prevacid. The nebulizer treatments could cause anxiety, so I was given an anti anxiety med, along with the option for Xanax when I asked. Being in the hospital itself could cause other anxiety / depression, so I was put on Zoloft, even though I told them I didn't want it. It went on and on.There was no way I was going to take anymore than I had to now that I was home an in control.

First thing I dumped was the Zoloft. I did ask my PCP beforehand and he said it was a low enough dose that I should be able to  wean quickly. I went cold turkey. I decided that it was so easy that I'd go cold turkey on the pain patch too. That one, well, it was a little bit more difficult. I actually was shocked as I realized that I was going through withdrawal, For nearly three days, I felt so edgy and twitchy. It was scary. I had never been so glad to feel pain in my life as it wore off,

So, over these last few weeks, I thought, since I already went from 7-8 pills down to a regular 4, I was going to stop taking my Synthroid because I felt fine. I also stopped taking my water pill for a couple of days - after all, I'm not all swollen like I was, and having to run and pee every 15 minutes every day gets a little old.

After a few days of my new regimen, I felt a bit run down. I got on the scale and was up 15 pounds!

I decided to swallow my pride and my pills, and within two days dropped 10 pounds - all water weight. Unreal.

I guess 4 meds isn't so awful for the time being - Synthroid, a water pill, a blood pressure pill and blood thinners. Its by the grace of God I'm already off of the Diabetes meds that I was taking before all of this went down. I have nothing to compain about for sure,

No more self doctoring here! Make sure you don't either, cause apparently all those years in medical school really do mean something. :)

Lots more to come - sorry for the hiatus....just been trying to recfocus on strength first, weight loss second. I'm maintaing 350 right now, and I know its only a matter of time before it begins to fall.

See y'all soon!!

RECIPE: Slow Cooker Butter Chicken {Low Carb / Gluten Free}

 

SLOW COOKER BUTTER CHICKEN

Ingredients

• 24 oz boneless skinless chicken breasts
• 1 onion, sliced
• 6 garlic cloves, chopped
• 4 tbsp light butter spread (I used I can't Believe It's Not Butter Light)
• 15 cardamom pods (put them in cheesecloth and tie with a string so they won’t escape)
• 2 tsp curry
• ½ tsp cayenne pepper
• 2 tsp garam masala
• ½ tsp ground ginger
• 1 (14 oz) can light coconut milk
• 1 (6 oz) can tomato paste
• 2 tbsp lemon juice
• 1 c plain nonfat Greek yogurt

Instructions

1. Put chicken in a large slow cooker, and add onion, garlic, and all of the dry spices.
2. Throw in the butter and tomato paste.
3. Add lemon juice and coconut milk.
4. Cover and cook on low for 8 hours, or high for 4.
5. The chicken should shred easily with 2 forks when fully cooked.
6. Stir in yogurt 15 minutes before serving.
7. Discard cardamom pods.
8. Salt to taste
9. Serve with brown rice, cauli-rice or by itself in a bowl with a nice green salad on the side.

yield: 6 servings - total carbs (without rice) = 10 g

Another Victory Celebration

This blog is going to be filled with the truth.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

There will be discussions about things that I endured that I never thought I would say out loud, ones I especially never considered putting in print for all the world to see.

But, I want to remember the depths from which God pulled me for the rest of my grateful existence. And if one person reads these posts and thinks "Wow, I'm not the only one." and is able to grasp even a whisper of hope, it will be worth it.

Today comes a confession. 

Sometime about this time last year, I stopped bathing. I could no longer raise my swollen legs high enough to step into the bathtub to take a shower and I didn't have the energy to take sponge baths. Only when I'd get infections under a skin fold would I clean it, and only to stop the pain. I'd change clothes and always wear cologne if we went to church or what have you, but over time, it got to where I knew people had to be able to smell me. I think the pinnacle of shame came when I was finally able to get Randall to admit what I already knew to me.

I of course got bathed in the hospital, rolled side to side by a gaggle of nurses at all hours of the night. I got home and finally screwed up enough courage to take a shower at home, but Randall stayed glued to my side to make sure that I didn't fall.

I still did not bathe daily. My legs would be hurting, or I was too tired, or I just didn't want to burden my already overworked hubby with yet something else.

So today, Randall ran to the store to pick up some lunchmeat for sandwiches for dinner. As soon as he left, I hopped up and headed to the bathroom.

I did it! I took my very first shower in over a year all by myself! I washed my hair, got in and out with no trouble, dried and got dressed without any assistance. When he got home, I was sitting on the sofa in my PJ's pleased as punch with myself. When he told me he was proud of me it really made me smile, because I felt the same way.

In some way...getting stronger every day!

Weigh In #1

When I look back on this week...

I ate pizza, three times.

I ate out, two times.

I had candy, three times.

I had an after dinner snack, four times.

I didn't drink enough water for two days. 

And yet....

I lost 5 pounds.

355 to 350!

88 total pounds lost

11 more to 100 pounds lost

31 to get to half of my goal.

Looking forward to seeing what happens next week when I actually give it a real try!

Onward and downward!

Signs, Scars and Side Effects

Its amazing when I look back now and see how dumb I was with my health. I've always heard that hindsight is 20/20, but I honestly was more embarrassed about my declining health whenever anyone else was able to see it. I didn't want to be a burden on anyone, and yet, I was causing more concern than if I would have faced up to it and had it taken care of sooner.

First was the sedentary lifestyle. I literally got to where I would sit on our couch for 23 out of 24 hours each day, only getting up to go to the bathroom. I got to where I could not climb into bed or didn't have the gumption to walk back to the bedroom, so I even "slept" on the couch. I'd sleep for an hour or so, wake up, watch TV for 2-3 hours, then try to sleep some more. I got to where my speech would slur when I was worn out, which was unbelievably embarrassing to have my Mom or hubby looking at me with such concern and confusion.

It got to the point where my 5X clothes were tight. I split nearly every pair of size 14 underwear in half. My shirts fit me like a baby doll tee. I even got to the point that the one pair of shoes I had that fit me no longer could be squeezed into. More embarrassment. When faced with my sisters last spring when my Dad died and seeing the pity and concern in their eyes, I wanted to just become invisible.

Those first visits to the cardiologist over the summer over my legs were embarrassing. I had to ask for the nurse to bring me a chair from their break room out in the waiting area because all of the chairs had arms and I could squeeze my butt into them.

I finally broke down and rented a wheelchair because walking was just too much. I had bedsores on my butt from sitting on the sofa so much. I was nothing but a huge, fluid filled, fat ball of pain. And yet, I always brushed it all off as if all was normal.

In the back of my head though, I was terrified. I never slept long not only because I was uncomfortable, but also because I was afraid if I went to sleep, I was not going to wake up. I thought alot about who was going to find me. I hoped it wouldn't be Daniel - one of my nephews found my brother the morning he died, and I know it messed him up for life. Its not that I wanted Randall to find me, but I prayed to God that He would get him through it.

Fast Forward through the hospital stay all 67 days of it, even through the 59 days I have since been home - I am left with a fading scar on my neck from the trach (I'm so thankful the redness has gone away and its so much less noticeable), two small scars on my right bicep from the pic line, and plenty of emotional scars. I think about this experience every day. Part of me thinks, it was just a hospital stay! The more logical part admits it was a hugely traumatic experience, one that I'll never forget, but one I am so grateful to have lived to remember.

Each day I get a little stronger, but there are things that do get me down. Like my knees. I obviously have arthritis in them, likely damage from my weight, and they hurt so very much so often. The dampness, the cold weather, walking too much. It makes me feel like I am 100 years old on most days.

The other disheartening side effect is my hair. I had reasonably thick hair, but no more. I've lost at least 60% of it. You can see my scalp and my forehead is much higher now. I looked up causes, and well, I am the poster child : traumatic illness, rapid weight loss, and I'm on 2 medications that notoriously cause hair loss. Every time I brush my hair, I have to clean out the causalities. This was something that I used to have to do only about every two weeks. Needless to say, I own a collection of bandanas and hats now, but even they make me feel so conspicuous.

Still, they are small prices to pay on the road to getting well. A journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step. May God never let me forget those first shaky steps as I clutched that walker in physical therapy in the hospital. Each step will bring me one step closer to all He wants me to be.

Celebrating The Small Stuff

Even the smallest of successes are victories. Never forget this. They can be as small as an ant and still have the power to carry you through a valley of self doubt which we all encounter from time to time.

In celebration of these minute miracles, I have two to share with y'all from yesterday.

First - walking. We went to Wednesday night services at church last night so that Daniel could start back to choir which he missed over these last weeks. For those of you unfamiliar with the church we attend, we go to a very large church whose campus sprawls across 11 blocks of downtown Jacksonville. We went to dinner first in the dining room, which was delicious as always - I had baked Tilapia, Roasted potatoes with onions and peppers, cheese grits and broccoli. My guys had the fried catfish and similar sides.

We used to eat there on Wednesdays while I was ill and it would take everything I had to get from the parking garage to the dining room, where I would sit and let hubby go through the line and get my dinner, after which he'd have to go through the line a second time for his own.After eating, as he would take Daniel to choir, I would slowly work my way over to the service, which was in the auditorium just a few hundred feet away. I'd then wait after the service outside in front of the building for him to go get Daniel and then the van and drive to where I was to pick me up.

Last night, we walked from the parking garage, through the buffet line and to dinner, no problem. Afterward, Daniel and I went to the service in the main sanctuary, which is an entire building away from where the service is normally held (they are remodeling the other auditorium). After the service, I walked back to the car. All of this without a walker, all under my own power.

As bad as my knees hurt last night, I couldn't have been happier with myself and felt quite accomplished. It made me feel even better about the fact that I kicked my Physical Therapist to the curb this week. I really felt like he wasn't doing me any good - he'd come to the house for 10-15 minutes twice a week, watch me do the exercises he told me to do, tell me I was progressing well and to keep it up and leave.He told me that I needed to work on my endurance and I think I tested it well last night.

My other victory was my snacking. I wanted to eliminate my after dinner snacking again, which I had gotten back into the habit of doing over the last few weeks. I had already gotten the snack down to a cup of soup - one of those k cups that have only 60 calories, but last night, despite eating dinner at 4:30 at church, I had no snacks before bed. Go me!

Bring on the weigh in tomorrow!

Picking My Poison

Right now, I am easing back into the eating routine that I had while in the hospital - no mindless snacking and proportioned meals. Granted, I slept a ton more in hospital, for both healing and to combat boredom, but I am sure I will strike a balance over time.

One thing I eliminated, or am eliminating, is processed sugar. I don't plan on going totally sugar free right out of the gate, but it may come to that. Last week, I noticed that my ankles, calves and feet were starting to swell more again. At first I contributed it to the ridiculously warm weather we were having, along with skipping a few of my water pills.

Then my knees began to kill me, along with my elbows. Elbows? I thought about it for a while and thought about all of the information I had read about sugar. Sugar is the largest inflammatory food there is. I wondered if all of the sweets I had indulged in over the holidays was causing the swelling, joint pain, not to mention the lethargy I was suffering from.

So, no more candy, cookies, et cetera et cetera. Within 24 hours, my energy perked back up. Last night, night number two, no foot swelling. Amazing. I even ate a few pieces of candy yesterday when I had gotten mad at something and still saw improvement. Note to self: stop the emotional eating - it does nothing but hurt you or prolong your success at the very least.

 The moral of the story: Carefully pick your poison. It can kill you. Sugar is definitely one of them.

Happy New Year

Here it is...four days into the New Year and today is my first fully focused day. Hubby had time off from work until this morning, so  we spent the time as a family. All three of us stayed up until midnight on Thursday night, then all three of us, along with Lucky, slept (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) in one bed. Thanks be to God that we just got Mom's king sized bed a few weeks earlier when she decided to downsize hers.
Who's Lucky you ask? This is Lucky....

 And as massive as he is and as fiercely protective as he is with all of us, he as just as much of a chicken. Fireworks are not a favorite. He cried and howled all evening as our neighbors reveled. So, we took him to bed with us. It was an adventure I could have lived without.

We took down the Christmas decorations the next day on a few hours sleep. On the bright side, we got the exercise bike out into the living room again so no more excuses! Yay! I'll let you know when I finally get up the nerve to climb up on it with my weakling legs. Soon I tell you...soon!

So, I have an accountability buddy this go round. My nearest and dearest friend Tammy, whose story you can follow on her blog. She chose today to be our first official weigh in, and after forgetting my water pill for two days and retaining fluids on top of overindulging during the holidays, I begrudingly offer my start number...

355 pounds. Ugh. So much for the 104 pounds lost. I'm back to 84 pounds lost. No time to wallow in self pity though - been off of processed sugar for two days and I feel so much better already. Now its back to taking meds consistently and working exercise into the routine, This is going to be a very happy and healthy year - I'm so excited!

Looking forward to Friday, which will be our weigh in day going forward. I know I'll see progress. Lots of other things to share about improvements I'll be making this year, too, to our household and beyond. Its truly a Happy New Year - so full of hope. May yours be as well.