A Lifelong Bad Habit Blown Away By One Good Sneeze

An update on the unpleasant but extremely well-timed sinus infection.

It's mostly fine; I'll be back at work tomorrow (almost looking forward to it -- oh, what the hell, it's a 3-day week, what's not to look forward to!).  The weekend's been sublimely dull & boring; sleep caught up on, one good home-cooked meal successfully executed, assorted filing accomplished, cat spoiled extra-rotten, etc. etc.

I have this one habit that goes all the way back to childhood and I have no idea where it originated.  When I sneeze, I shut my mouth and pinch both nostrils closed. 

Yeah, I know.  Various well-meaning souls (Mom, Dad, both husbands, co-workers and complete strangers) have told me what a terrible habit this is.  "You'll kill yourself!" "You'll give yourself a hemorrhage!"  "You'll blow your brains out!" "You'll go deaf!"  "Your head will explode!"

Well, as should be quite obvious, not one of these predictions has come true.

Click Here to Read More..

Massaaaaage...Wonndaful.

It's been about 16 years since my last massage. I don't know why, just as I don't know why it took me so long to hit the gym and the riverwalk. But there it is. Time slips by, and you're left with a bad case of "WTF?"

Evidently, my body was quite unused to being used; shortly after my first two workouts, things started knotting up badly. If it wasn't my lower back and right hip complaining, it was my neck, right shoulder and right arm, suddenly taking major exception to my days spent mostly on the computer with mouse in hand. I persevered two more times at the gym, but couldn't get beyond one mile on the treadmill and feared an unexpected twinge that might cause me to fall or stumble and embarrass myself. Wednesday I skipped a night, and yesterday I asked my doctor to recommend a massage therapist. I got an appointment for mid-morning, which meant I got to sleep in a little.

It was nice having today off; the timing couldn't have been better. A 30-minute massage was within my means (this week). The process was uncomplicated, and I'm so glad I did it. When I got out of there, I felt floaty, but noticed that my driving reflexes were just as good as ever, if not better.

The therapist said it took at least half the session to work through the surface tension in my shoulders. She strongly recommended coming back for at least one 1-hour session, or weekly half-hour sessions. I can't do that just now, but will certainly not let another 16 years go by before the next one. I'm hoping to be able to get in at least one 30-minute session per month going forward.

Meanwhile, my sister-in-law Yolanda has been volunteering as a test case in the healing touch method. She's just as much of a skeptic as I am, but has been fairly impressed with the results. Before she even told me about what she's been doing, I noticed a distinct difference in her speech over the phone. Typically, her speech is rambling, scattered and disorganized, and it's sometimes a chore to converse with her. She will repeat the same idea several times in a row, attempting to summon just the right words. There are long gaps between words and sentences, as though she goes away for awhile, making it necessary to wait. If you cut in, she "loses her place" and starts over. She's suffered at least one small stroke. But this afternoon, she sounded very present, with a cohesiveness I hadn't heard from her in awhile. I think the healing touch therapy is beneficial to her, and for one simple reason, having nothing to do with chakras, vibrations or any other kind of woo-woo. It's the fact that she is in a room with one person, getting their undivided attention and interest. She's had a few failed relationships; she's been alone for awhile and tends to get her relationship needs met by spending her time with couples. She often complains about being the third wheel. So it must be nice to experience caring touch and a listening ear. I have no doubt that alternative therapies work, for this reason. And as long as it doesn't cause the user to part with ridiculous amounts of money that enrich the "therapist," or to get drawn into a cult or isolated from their normal life, it can only help. It's a stressful world out there. Trying to tough it out alone doesn't generally accomplish much.

Note: Just in case anyone wonders about the title of this post, it is a direct quote from an enterprising gentleman who greeted my son and me at the entrance to a NYC subway back in the summer of 2000, when we lived there. Good price, too: "Ten dolla." Click Here to Read More..

Clark Howard - Our Guy's in Trouble

Clark Howard is an Atlanta-based nationally syndicated consumer advocate, who has been delivering a fresh, unpretentious radio and TV broadcast for over 15 years.

He's 53 but could easily pass for 40. However, today he announced that he has been diagnosed with early-stage prostate cancer. The condition did not sneak up on him -- his doctor found an abnormality in his bloodwork a few years ago and it's been carefully monitored. Prognosis is extremely good. However, Howard is now on the verge of becoming a health advocate, urging men to suck it up, go to the doctor and get checked, rather than ignoring something that can kill you.

I'm hoping Clark sails safely through this bit of turbulence and lives happily into old age. Click Here to Read More..

Improvement

I haven't done any kind of daily chronicle of my ankle injury, simply because I'm obviously not the first person ever to have had an ankle injury, and by comparison, it's a pretty minor injury. Boring, in fact. The 4-day Christmas weekend was stultifyingly boring because the most exciting thing I did was polish off most of a box of Cheezits in front of the tube (actually quite novel...I haven't pigged out like that in years). I also rearranged my home office space. That was almost anticlimactic.

But the ankle sprain itself has had little effect on me other than making me want to sleep a lot. And that's mainly what I did for 4 days. Carl worked every day except Christmas and people were considerate enough to refrain from calling me on the phone and waking me up.

I wasn't able to use the boots the clinic gave me because when they put them on me, I didn't pay proper attention so as to put them on right next time. I remedied that today when I went for the follow-up visit. Now I can look semi-fashionable. The ace bandages are already somewhat worn and stretched out of shape (they were originally Wally's). This morning my gait wasn't quite as stiff and slow as previous days. The pain is noticeably less severe. The bruising, however, will be with me for awhile. My entire ankle is this scary eggplant shade.

Given the variety of pain medication I have lying around the house, I've used relatively little of it.

It felt good to get back to work yesterday. People have been nice. There wasn't any awkwardness about it being a w/c claim; I think everybody is just extremely relieved that it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it could have been. It didn't even count as "lost time" (which would have deprived us all of our quarterly Wal-mart gift card, the universe forbid), since the manager adjusted the time clock to cover the time I spent getting checked out at the clinic), and I've already made up the extra half hour that my appointment today took up. The last few days have been productive and low-stress, since da boss is out for the week.

Still ... this year began on a sucky note (we were burglarized in January, before I started posting here full-time) and I won't be sorry to see it go. Click Here to Read More..

Yogurt

(I know, it's a weird title for a post but bear with me...)

My pediatrician was a big proponent of yogurt, and this was back in the late '50s, early '60s, long before yogurt gained any kind of commercial traction. So I grew up with it, the way other kids might grow up eating pudding. I remember back then, Dannon was the only brand out there, and the containers were much bigger than they are now. There seemed to be more flavors, too, including chocolate. I've always liked it, always bought it.

I started a diet a little over 2 months ago. I know my weight's been causing me a variety of lesser problems, including joint pain, acid reflux, sleep apnea, and a diagnosis of pre-diabetes. So I went back to my roots, so to speak -- Mom was a big believer in raw veggies, which is something else I grew up with. Green peppers, carrots & celery as a late night snack, instead of potato chips. All the things Carl, my husband, doesn't care for. Small portions, etc. Yogurt for dessert.

Well, I dropped 5 lbs with very little difficulty, and that's the first significant loss since 2002, when I tried the Atkins/Zone method. At that time I was unemployed so I didn't have to opt for carb-laden convenience foods. That time, I dropped 13 lbs in 6 weeks before starting to edge back up.

So that 5 lbs has been something to feel good about -- even after the first 3 lbs came off I saw the difference in the way my clothes fit.

However, around the end of October, I noticed I'd plateaued -- part of this is that our money situation improved slightly and we could buy more food with each trip to the store. For awhile there had been virtually no meat in the freezer - my husband, a big meat eater, would just get something at Mickey D's to hold him over. But things started to improve and we went back to our stock-ups. I think what happened was, we were making up for the lean times by concentrating our spending on what we'd missed. So we were buying meat, coffee, drinks, frozen stuff, etc. In order to maximize our "stash" of food, I think I made the subconscious decision to forgo yogurt in favor of things Carl liked more, like pudding.

Well, not only has the weight loss come to a screeching halt, but my digestion has recently become problematic. That never happened before. Picture an interstate highway at rush hour with all but one lane blocked for construction and you'll get the idea. Not pleasant. I had my first reflux episode a few nights ago, too -- I attributed that to Carl's killer chili, which tastes awesome but wouldn't ever be mistaken for a health food.

...Incidentally, "Carl's killer chili" is a tongue-twister to rival "toy boat."

But it wasn't until yesterday that it occurred to me, this problem coincides with the period of time I haven't been eating yogurt. As soon as I figured it out, I couldn't wait to get over to the store and hit the dairy aisle. Carl worked a super-early shift today (6:30am), so I dropped him off and high-tailed it to good old 24-hr Wal-mart. Got 2 big multi-packs of Activia and DanActive, which have different types of cultures, but both aimed at "digestive health." Two other happy moments came with that. I got a slight discount, being able to use the rest of an old gift card I had in my wallet -- a couple of bucks. And, leaving the parking lot, I noticed their gas station was advertising $1.99 per gallon. First time since 2005 at the earliest that the price has been so low -- maybe Thanksgiving of 2006. It was such a treat to see $1.99, I went ahead and filled up. Can't remember the last time I did that, either. Maybe last March, when I went to visit Wally up north.

So the day has started off on a pretty good note. I have an absolutely insane day ahead of me, with about half a dozen separate church activities all requiring my presence, but I think it will be fine. Click Here to Read More..

Checking in with a Quick & Shallow Update

After being advised a week or two ago that I'm pre-diabetic, I've stepped up my weight-loss efforts. The result is a loss of 3 lbs, which normally would make me say "So what?" since usually the first 3 lbs is just water ... but it's really the first time my weight has gone down AT ALL in a couple of years. As a corollary, there's the money situation, which is actually helping in an odd sort of way. We haven't the money to stock up food-wise; we tend to buy enough for a day or two. So Carl buys his all-important meat; I head for the produce and dairy aisles and keep myself supplied with salads and yogurt. Also those Carl Buddig 90-calorie one-sandwich-at-a-time packets that sell for less than a dollar. I'd swear my hair has more red in it lately, with all the carrots I've been eating...

This weekend promises to be absolutely jam-packed, especially with neighborhood activities -- fall festival next Saturday. Next Thursday, a vacation day. Already overbooked.

Wally's birthday is coming up and I'm hoping to be able to send him something. Looking forward to the start of the year, since the company will be offering flexible spending accounts and I found that very helpful a few years back.

My bff hasn't called or e-mailed lately; I assume she's paralyzed with shock. She frequently sends me her latest Obama-is-a-muslim-we're-all-doomed 2nd-hand screed. I just skim through the stupidity and delete with no comment. Lately, though, there have been some great essays on some of the hypocrisy that surrounds the Obama-vs-Palin brouhaha and I gave in to the temptation to share one with her. She'd BETTER not take offense at one pro-Obama e-mail after all the stuff she and others have flooded me with over the years.

I'm looking forward to the presidential debates (I think), but am especially looking forward to November 4th just getting here, already. Click Here to Read More..

Food and Money

Carl's hours have been cut -- now it's something like 3-4 days a week, 4 hours a day. A couple of days ago we went food shopping and I ended up having to bail him out with a dollar - he underestimated the $26 total.

We've been together 11 years now; our food philosophies are so very different, but it really only becomes apparent when the money gets tight like this.

-He's extremely underweight; has virtually no body fat. Since getting dentures last year and discovering that they don't fit properly, he's eating even less. He also smokes about a pack a day, maybe more. And yet, he's as strong as an ox. When we moved to NYC for a year, he moved most of our furniture up 3 flights of stairs to our ancient apartment, most of the time with a Marlboro clenched in his teeth.

And, he eats Little Debbies like they're going out of style.

-I, on the other hand, continue to pack on the pounds, mainly due to lack of exercise, since I'm not a big eater. I think I have a condition called myoadenylate deaminase deficiency, but have never taken the time to have it diagnosed or to invest in a supplement. That's for another day. Honest!

-Carl was raised in a household with six siblings and one working mom. They often went to school with their shoes duct-taped together. I don't think any of the kids finished high school. So we're not talking about a worldly bunch. Very salt-of-the-earth, very meat and potatoes. The type of mentality that says "Well, we're not officially poor because we can still afford to put meat on the table."

Carl is completely entrenched in that mindset. Any time I sit down to a meal that does not include meat (such as a spinach omelet or a cheese sandwich, or baked squash...) he'll look at my plate and say "No meat?" In our 11 years together, the one and ONLY area in which I've had the tiniest influence on him is in the area of flavorings. I can't count the number of times I will reach for the sage, or rosemary, or vinegar, only to have him say "Momma never put that stuff on anything...she worked 10 hours a day and raised six kids; she didn't have the time or the money for anything more than salt and pepper." But he doesn't complain about it anymore, even when I reach for the garlic. He still finds it odd that I use more than one pan and one spoon when making anything; he complains that I "mess up" his kitchen when I experiment, so most of the time I stay out of the kitchen (and on the computer) and he takes care of meals.

I was raised differently. My parents weren't rich or worldly by any stretch, and Dad was also a high school dropout, but they had lived together in NYC for a number of years before I came along, and made it their business to learn about various types of cuisine. Back in the 1960s, I stood out among my classmates because I knew the difference between Moo Goo Gai Pan and Baked Clams Oreganato. We went out to eat fairly often. Once my parents got into a loud argument with an obnoxious waitress in a diner we liked, who insisted that a seven-year-old (meaning me) would not eat brook trout and should order from the kids' menu. I not only got my fish, I ate it right down to the bone. She grudgingly gave me a lollipop (a green, broken one) and grumbled something about me being "spoiled." In my teens I subscribed to Gourmet magazine and liked to peruse cookbooks. I didn't cook much; just found food to be an interesting subject.

I like a steak as much as anyone, but could be a vegetarian if I needed to. I am not the least bit fussy about any food. Store brands, for the most part, are just as good as national -- another area where Carl and I differ. He thinks most vegetables are alien invaders from another planet, mushrooms in particular, and the ones he likes, he prefers southern style: boiled to oblivion with some sort of pork flavoring. One of the few instances where I will say "yuk." In fact, I've learned that when Carl mentions "vegetables," he exclusively means the kind you need a can opener to get to. If I'm talking about fresh veggies (the healthier type), I always have to say "produce."

Carl believes in a full, sit-down meal, with a beginning, a middle and an end. I will randomly graze -- heat up a can of green beans, throw a pat of butter on it, and call it a meal...then an hour or so later decide I'd like an egg. To me, food is food. I eat because I have to; try to make semi-healthy decisions, and then get back to the computer. That's why, when he says "There's nothing to eat in the house," I'm silently thinking, Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis? There's pasta [which he hates, more on that later], rice, canned soup, plenty of canned veggies, frozen stuff that's open [another taboo with Carl: once it's been opened, he won't touch it a second time. It falls to me to make all-gone with it].

So, when we got to the grocery store the other night, his first stop was the frozen food aisle. Stouffer's, Marie Callenders, Swanson Hungry Man. And here we are with $25 to spare. I made a snap decision: I told him to get whatever he wanted and not to worry about me, then picked out one large potato, a few cans of store-brand soup, and my one indulgence: a can of Underwood turkey spread, which is apparently a new product. Carl ended up having a bowl of cereal for dinner and the turkey spread the night after that.

It irks me that veggies are now so damn expensive. My mom used to give me a bowl of green peppers, carrots & celery to eat while I read in bed at night. She cut and peeled the carrots herself, by the way -- they didn't have the pre-packaged stuff back then.

In the two years between divorcing Doug and meeting Carl, I fell into the classic single-mom eating pattern: Pasta, ramen noodles and processed stuff. I didn't even think about what I was feeding Wally. As long as he had something to eat, I figured everything was fine. We both liked pasta. So a couple of weeks after Carl and I started keeping steady company he came over for dinner and asked what we were having. As soon as I said "pasta," his eyes rolled, and I suddenly realized that yes, I was serving pasta in some form or another nearly every night. I didn't mind him pointing this out to me. But now, it seems the shoe is on the other foot, because if we're not having meat loaf, it's hamburger helper, or quarter pounders from Mickey-D's, or his favorite rice & hamburger concoction...he says he doesn't like chicken very much; he no longer cares much for pork. It all seems to have narrowed down to hamburger at least 3x a week. Seafood occasionally -- not fish, God forbid, unless it's beer-battered, and shrimp almost anytime.

Side note: To Carl, "pasta" does not include spaghetti. Spaghetti is fine; he just doesn't like ziti, rigatoni, spirals, bowties or other shapes. Go figure. If I ever suggested "couscous," he'd probably either burst out laughing or call 911.

So I guess the point of this rambling monologue is, I'm trying to figure out a workable strategy to eat healthy and save money. With the huge differences between Carl's eating habits and mine, it isn't going to be easy.

~I've edited this thing at least a dozen times since starting it Friday morning. New thoughts keep popping in. Click Here to Read More..

Restless and Dissatisfied

Not a bad weekend overall; just not feeling content.

As always, stressed about my work with the community. I've got the minutes from two recent meetings in front of me; they need to be transcribed before they get too stale to remember what the scribbles represent. Also need to organize the big binder to hold minutes and other documents, months by month. So all the paperwork I've accumulated so far is spread out on the floor.

I'm going to be leading a church service next month. No doubt I can put it together -- actually, it's one of those sink-or-swim, do-or-die situations where I can worry about it all I want but bottom line, I have to make it work.

I'm also worried about the role I play at church, for which I have always felt unqualified, and now I have an entire year to find out if that's true or not.

I worry about my job. Just a couple of months ago (and I should have known better than to ever do this) I was blogging about how it's such a great gig, best ever, etc etc. Earlier this month the entire job description was changed, and I don't know where it leaves me. And my annual review is coming up next month. My boss has a long memory. You make one mistake and she pins the whole review on that. Of course, I'm not that naive. Companies do this all the time in an effort to minimize the amount of money they have to pay you. And so I'm updating my resume on the major job search sites.

And then, of course, there's everything else. Like, the economy. The upcoming election. Which ties in with my job. If I lose this job, I'm probably going to be in some serious trouble.

Missing my cell phone and sunglasses, both of which were lost on the trip. Tomorrow I have to get over to the cell store and see how much this deal is going to cost me. Can't do anything about the glasses right now because my insurance is only good at eye doctors that have bankers' hours. First available day I can get an appointment will be Tuesday the 15th.

My health. I'm probably about 40 lbs overweight and it's really starting to have an effect. I have heartburn and acid reflux nearly all the time now -- it went a long way toward ruining this weekend for me. I lose sleep at night and find myself making it up at odd times during the day. This afternoon I sacked out on the couch and had a really vivid dream about my mother. Carl called to be picked up from work and after I hung up I just sat there blinking, trying to figure out what day it was and what planet I was on.

I started using St. John's Wort earlier in the month, recognizing that the depression was starting to creep back. It seems to have made a difference; I have more energy. But with the trip last week I got out of the habit of using it, and I think this gloomy little post is evidence. Better get back on track or my worries are going to turn into self-fulfilling prophecies. Click Here to Read More..