I Had Great Plans for Today. Now...What I'm Really Doing.

I just tripped down the stairs and hurt my knee.

Don't think anything's broken, but I'm now plopped on the sofa with an ice pack. I had many things planned today that probably just got pushed to the weekend (I hope.) Who can ever afford to hurt a knee and then stay off it for an afternoon, or a day? My sister and I talked recently about how sometimes God literally knocks you down (she developed a UTI in the midst of a move) so you just have to sit around and stew about stuff while observing the mess around you, because who ever injures themselves when the house is in perfect order and all the errands are done? UGH.

Excuse me, I think I need a pain pill.

I'm back. Anyhoo...we're refinancing our home, and the appraiser is coming early next week. I wanted to dust all the fans, hose off all the blinds and polish the wooden cabinets today. I debated painting a bathroom and washing the outside windows. But, now I'm just blogging with an ice pack on my knee. I think I'll watch the senate hearing on Benghazi in a few minutes. Or maybe read TIME magazine and fall asleep. You don't realize how useful a knee is until you trip down the stairs and land your full weight on it. I should not have had that cookie last night.

Something sweet did happen early this morning, before the fall. My friend, Christine, from A Fly on Our Chicken Coop Wall (wonderful blog, by the way) wrote a review on my ebook, The 12 Days of Christmas Adventure, and she is giving away a free copy. Check it out here: REVIEW and FREE COPY.

Sample of a pear in a partridge tree. HA!

Christine has a fun life with her husband and six cute kids living on a pig farm in Indiana (go Hoosiers!) Isn't that a funny sentence right there?  Read what she's doing this holiday season with The 12 Days. Really sweet.

OK, I have to stretch out and shift around again, this fat knee is now starting to burn. Hope your day is productive and pain-free. Watch out for stairs that move on you.

Giving Up Carbs: Why It's a Grieving Process

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S is for Seedy

On my pathway to better health, I've discovered a seedy snack that is easy to make and is a perfect grab-on-the-go treat. If you appreciate the nutritional value of seeds, these are for you.

SEEDY SNACKS

1 C. unsweetened shredded coconut
1. C. pumpkin seeds
1 C. sunflower seeds
1/2 C. dried cranberries
1/2 C. raisins
optional: 3 T. chocolate chips or cacao nibs

1/2 C. sunflower butter (in health food stores)
1/2 C. agave nectar (coconut nectar can also be used)
pinch of sea salt (if using salted seeds, omit salt.)

In large bowl, stir first six ingredients together.  In separate bowl, whisk together sunflower butter and nectar and salt. Pour mixture over seed mixture and fold to evenly distribute ingredients.  Batter will be sticky.  Refrigerate mixture for two hours.

Roll dough into balls and stack between layers of waxed paper.  Store in refrigerator. 

Recipe adapted from Terry Walters.

RUTABAGA!

If you visit the Ballpark off and on, you probably know I overhauled my diet recently.  I'm embracing more veggies and organic food.  It's one of the adventures I talk about here in the dugout.

One of the more interesting veggies I've discovered is the rutabaga.  Before I began eating better, I only knew the humble rutabaga from "The Number 10" song on Sesame Street. (If you've never seen that charming video, you can view that HERE.)

I had to learn what to do with rutabagas, so I found this video, which is great: RUTABAGA 101.  If you're trying to adopt a healthier diet, rutabagas might find their way into your kitchen. 

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If I could just get them to dance like they do in "The Number 10," song, they'd be my favorite vegetable.

Q - Quinoa!

I discovered quinoa this year when I was told I shouldn't eat wheat, oats, pasta, dairy, chocolate, or anything else that I've been eating for 40 years.  Quinoa is good for me, as are walnuts and cinnamon.

So I combined them into a wonderful breakfast cereal (I've had to dump processed, boxed cereals as well.)

Simmer quinoa according to the directions on the package (typically 1 C. to 2 C. ratio of quinoa to liquid.)  I use almond milk for the liquid because it's full of protein.

While the quinoa is simmering (covered), sprinkle in 1 t. of cinnamon, or however much you like. You can also add nutmeg if you'd like.  When all the liquid is absorbed, the quinoa is done - this usually takes about 15 min.

Scoop the quinoa into a bowl and drizzle in a bit of real maple syrup, a tab of butter, and some chopped walnuts, or sunflower seeds (or whatever nut you like.)  Add berries for added deliciousness.

Scarf it up while it's warm.  This is my new favorite breakfast.

Grateful Beyond Words

I'm so grateful to God for life this week.  Two big events took my peace and kept me fearful for a bit, even though I prayed fairly unceasingly during the waiting periods.  I was not in control of either situation, and I realized how weak my faith can be.  By the grace of God, I'm still His.  He never left me alone.

Situation one:  I've had blood in my urine for a month.   Not enough to see, but enough to need a cat scan to look at my kidneys and my bladder.  I had the cat scan and waited a week before the doc called me at 7:30 in the morning and said the CT did show something abnormal, and could I come in that afternoon for a cystoscopy?  I wanted to yell, can I come in right now?!?

From 7:30 until 1:30, I worried.  I prayed and worried.  I called my husband, who came home from work to go to the doc with me.  Once he was home, we tried not to imagine the worst, but of course, we did.  I texted my best friend, my daughter, and my sister to ask for prayer.  My sister told me later that while she waited for the final word from me, she wondered if she would be able to donate to me one of her kidneys.  I cried when she told me this.

During those waiting, morning hours, I wiped up the kitchen and folded laundry and scrolled mindlessly though facebook, anything to occupy my mind.  Every time my mind would consider the fact that I might hear fatal news, I rolled that into the prayer, Be still and know that I am God.  Be still and know that I am God.  Be still, be still, be still.

We arrived at the doctor's office early, and I flipped though an old TIME magazine, reading parts of articles, comprehending nothing.   The nurse called me back, and my husband came with me.  I would be on my back in stirrups for the cystoscopy, but I wanted him in the room.  Once I was gowned and ready, we waited another fifteen minutes. It seemed like an hour.

The doc came in and explained that the CT showed my kidneys were fine, but it appeared there was a mass on my bladder.  The cystoscopy would give him a better look.  Within a minute, the scope was in and we saw my bladder on the small screen to my left.  He pointed out different aspects of my bladder - all healthy tissues.  No mass.  He smiled and said, "Your bladder is fine.  I suspect it was empty during the CT and it folded in on itself, which bladders sometimes do."

I stared at him. "The bladder is fine?  The kidneys are fine?"

"Both fine," he said.  "The urethra is a bit irritated.  We'll give you some cream for that, and I'm 99% sure the bleeding will stop.  It's nice to get good news once in a while, isn't it?"

I took a deep breath and looked at my husband.  He had tears in his eyes.

Situation two: Exactly a week after the fearful morning/good news cystoscopy, our youngest son was in a car accident.

Front of the car

 

Back of the car

He was rear-ended by a young woman who plowed into him at a stop light.  He swerved, went off the road, and hit a tree.  He was crunched from both ends. The air bag knocked him with such force, his glasses broke, and his seat was flattened into a reclining position.  With such impact from both ends, his over-six-feet frame could have been broken in many places.

He emerged with only a bloody elbow and bruises from the air bag.  Unbelievable.  (No one else was hurt.)

Our daughter-in-law called us (we are two hours away) and kept us updated.  Until he was seen in the ER and cleared from head or internal injuries, I was back in worry/prayer mode.  A few hours later, we talked to our son.  He was sore, but assured us he was OK.  The accident was not his fault, insurance would kick in, he already had an appointment to get new glasses.

I breathed deeply, and my husband and I looked at each other, again, with tears in our eyes.

People get terrible medical news every day.  People are injured or killed in car accidents every day.  I don't know why we were spared the worst of things these past two weeks.  I know God is good all the time, whether we are ill or well, safe or harmed.  Life is random and crazy.  God is not.

He's in control all the time.  He's loving all the time.  He wants the best for us all the time.

A time will come when life will not serve me the best outcome.  I pray I will remain true to whom I know God to be.  All the time.

A Wake-up Call

I like to think I honor God in all aspects of my life.  I'm pretty clear about how He wants to me live, and I have been for most of my adult life.  Lately, however, I've discovered I've made some choices mindlessly - choices I didn't think God cared much about. And I'm paying for them now.

I'm talking about food choices. I never thought much about my diet, only that I probably ate too much.  Like every woman on the planet, I've had moments of "that's it, I'm getting rid of this extra weight. I'm joining the gym, blah, blah, blah." And I've lost 10 or 15 pounds.  Then I get lazy, and it all comes back.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, in December I had blood work done that showed I have very high blood markers for rheumatoid arthritis.  This was shocking, as I have no swollen or painful joints - just bad blood work. After getting conflicting reports from rheumatologists in my area, I ended up at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL. The doc there suggested I start meds right away, because it looks as though RA is coming.

I did tons of research on RA and read a book called The Inflammation Nation, which was completely eye-opening, and changed my thinking on what I've been eating all my life. RA is an inflammatory disease where the immune system is on overdrive. It's constantly on the attack, which eventually destroys joint tissue.  Untreated, or uncorrected, people with RA can end up in wheel chairs.

I'm also reading The Daniel Plan by Rick Warren, a book about honoring God and our bodies by getting back on track with food - eating whole foods, real food, and getting the junk and processed food out of our lives.

I well up as I read parts of it because I'm realizing how misguided my eating pattens have been.  I've not been fueling my body, but poisoning it with things like sugar and too many carbs and "white trash" like white rice, white bread, white crackers, and white potatoes. I've simply been a mindless eater.  Not a conscious one.

I'm praying God will change my thinking on this, because RA is caused by inflammation, which is caused by sugar, the wrong kinds of carbs and "white trash." I didn't know much about inflammation.  I'd heard some of these things before, but I didn't have any health issues - until now - so I just figured I was doing OK.

My Mayo doctor told me I have three months to change my diet and see if we can get my blood work back to normal. By the grace of God, I don't have any joint issues yet, and I'm hoping I can turn things around before I do. 

So, I gave away the boxed, processed items in my pantry. The bulk of my grocery bill is now produce.  I have leaves and sprouts popping out of my 'fridge the moment you open its door. I've discovered I like pea shoots, parsnips, bok choy and Japanese sweet potatoes, things I never tried before. I've learned I don't like turnips and will not be buying those again. I try to have some form of kale every day. 

In overhauling my diet, I've realized this is a spiritual journey for me. Eating was an area of my life I never asked God about. Rick Warren sums up the problem in one sentence: Dedicate your body to God.  Period.

If I do that - daily - I will eat properly. I will feed my body with what it needs to stay strong and healthy. The Daniel Plan reminds me that my body does not belong to me. It was purchased at a price, and God gave it to me to use in the service of others. This never hit me so hard as it has recently.  God has given me a wake up call,  and I pray I correct my course. My family is supportive, for which I'm so grateful.

I have not had a life-changing event such as this in many years, and I regret I did not pay attention to my diet 20 years ago.  Thankfully, we have a God who gives us second chances.

Apparently, I'm Inflamed.

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Why, Oh Pie?

Tomorrow is the beginning of Advent!  Where did November go?

Our Thanksgiving was wonderful.  A friend brought the turkey and the stuffing, I catered in some sides, then made a cranberry salad and an apple pie (which was terrible.  More on that in a minute.) We laughed and reminisced with my parents, who are hard of hearing and tell funny stories about past Thanksgivings.  Then, we all ate too much and wobbled our way to various sofas/beds to doze.

Our daughter cleaned up the kitchen (this was huge, as the kitchen was quite the mess) while I put my feet up.  Because earlier that morning, I ran into my own cane with my non-walking boot foot, and, I suspect, broke a toe.

I've broken toes before, and I'm always amazed at how painful they are.  Toes hold such tiny bones, you'd think you wouldn't miss one if it fell off completely.  But, they won't be ignored.  They throb and ache until you just sit down.

Luckily, I'm going to my foot doc on Tues for my left foot injury, so I'll have him look at the purple toe.  It wouldn't surprise me if he said, "You don't deserve feet.  You don't take care of them.  Here are two peg legs.  Good luck."

When I first saw him for my torn tissues on the other foot, he scowled at my ratty Keds and said, "Throw those away."  He really is a nice guy and a good doctor, but I'm feeling complete shame about not really paying attention to my feet.  I'm paying now alright.  If he gives me a boot for the broken toe foot, I might consider the peg legs.

Does anybody have a good, really truly good pie crust recipe?  I'm pretty good in the baking department, but I can't master a good pie crust to save my feet.  I've used Crisco, cold butter, the egg and vinegar thing, even a cream cheese recipe...they all crack and fall apart as I try to get them into the pie pan.  Once baked, they're sandy or tough.  I've used a pastry cutter, I've used a food processor, I've used forks to blend the dough.  No method seems better than the other.  My pie crusts are not good. And I've used the recipes that say "no fail pie crust" and "the perfect pie crust."

Lies, all lies.

This is what I can to with a store-bought crust.  Not bad, I think.  I can assemble a pie just fine.  But the crust itself?  I don't get it.  Every time I plan to bake a pie, I go in excited - this will be the time it works!  Ten minutes in, I'm disgusted with the whole mess.  I go ahead and bake the thing because I'm not going to waste ingredients, but it's always a disappointment. And I swear I'll never do it again.

Then I get sucked in next holiday season, because I'm irritated that a pie crust is getting the best of me.  I can't let the thing win.  So I try again.  I'm clearly insane because insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.  I have to get off this hamster wheel.

So...if you have a truly fail-proof pie crust recipe - or some tips on the secret to a good, flaky crust - please let me know.  Drop me a comment, or email me at ballpark001@gmail.com.  I'd be so grateful.

While I'm waiting, I'll be practicing how to get around on my knees.

Hobbling Around

So....here's what happened this week.

It matches the tile grout in my kitchen, don't you think?  I now try to just hang in the kitchen, so I always look coordinated. 

Apparently, I've had some small tears in my paroneal longus tendon since the summer (tendonopathy.) That's one of the tendons that runs from calf to foot and and slides back and forth under that bony protrusion on the side of your ankle. 

I've also developed plantar fasciitis (I swear this word has too many 'i's, but Webster says no.)  Plantar fasciitis is inflammation and micro tears in the plantar fascia, the connective tissue that runs from heel to toes on the bottom on the foot.  My left foot is aging faster than my right.  However, with my now cock-eyed gait, my right foot is acting up.  I really need a third leg.

What's bugging me this week is that I've had pain in this foot for about six weeks.  At first I thought it was part of the fibromyalgia I'm still learning about and treating with supplements.  So, I went to the beach two weeks ago for vacation and began running again.  This was absolutely the wrong thing to do.  But, I didn't yet know the results of my MRI, and I wasn't feeling any worse. 

So, I ran a bit.  And walked on the lumpy beach, and walked on the street, and walked up and down flights of stairs several times a day.  Two days after I got home, I learned about these injuries, and then began kicking myself with my good foot. 

How are we supposed to determine aging aches and pains from injury aches and pains?  That's the question.  Clearly, I'm a bad judge of that distinction.  So, now I'm in a gray boot for a month, maybe more.  If things are healing well at that point, I'll get a brace for another few months.  Yes, I said months.  Plantar fasciitis takes six months to a year to heal.  Geez-o-flip. 

The doc said tendons don't ever return to their former state, so this foot will always be a vulnerability for me.  That means no more running.  Ever.  I'm not crazy about running, but it was the best tool for me when it came to weight loss.  Nothing knocked off twenty pounds as quickly as running. 

Pooh.  I might have to befriend this twenty pounds.  ACK!

The doc said swimming is my best option from now on.  So, I closed my membership at my current gym and joined a gym that has a pool.  I can't tell you how excited I am to squeeze into a bathing suit that reveals the extra twenty pounds. 

Oh well.  Life is full of surprises and adjustments.  There are many people in worse shape than me. And I still have one good foot. 

For now.

Shades of Gray (part 4) and Tiny Feet

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From One End to the Other

As I shared on Facebook this week, I learned last Thursday I had a small hole in the retina of my right eye.  Today I had laser surgery by a very kind eye surgeon to seal the hole.

It was a procedure that gave me the willies.  I mean, a blinding (literally) heated light seared eye tissue closed to create scars so the vitreous humor doesn't leak behind the retina, causing it to pull away from the wall of the eyeball.  I shudder writing that.  Gross.

The amazing part is that this procedure doesn't really hurt.  It's uncomfortable, and warm, but not painful.  My procedure lasted only five minutes.  The dilation of my pupil took 20 minutes.  Once I disappeared into the doctor's procedure room, my daughter had just enough time to text my husband that I had just gone back, when I appeared again.  It's miraculous what a physician can do with a laser beam and a coal miner's hat.   
 

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How did I get a hole in my retina, you ask?  Apparently I have thin retinas, a condition called lattice degeneration.  It sounded pretty with the lattice part, then I heard the degeneration part and thought, of course, another aging issue.  As I wrote on Facebook, at least I have one body part that is THIN.

I'll just have to give up those weekend boxing matches.

In other news this week, I heard from the editor who had requested to see my manuscript, The 12 Days of Christmas Adventure.  After having it for six weeks, she decided it was not for her publishing house at this time.  To my surprise, that email of rejection was not too painful.  It was disappointing, but not excruciating.  It was kind of like eye surgery - uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

I don't know what I'll do next.  I might blog the book here.  Part of me finds this very appealing.  Part of me thinks I'm tired because a laser burned my eye this morning.

I'll think about it tomorrow.  Tomorrow's another day.  Another uncomfortable day, because I can't eat anything but Jello and Popsicles.  I'm having a colonoscopy on Friday (it's been such a fun week.)  Tomorrow night, the real fun begins because I get to drink that tasty fluid that precedes hours in the bathroom.

I'm so grateful there are doctors who like to poke around eyeballs and colons.  You could not pay me enough to do either one.  

SOURCE

                                

FIFTEEN SHADES OF GRAY (part 1)

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~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I've been thinking about something for about six months - a decision that, on the surface, seems easy to make.  However, because of society's standards....I've wavered.

On some days, I'm sure I want to make this change.  On other days, it seems...well, unacceptable.  Or, at least unwise.  I mentioned to a friend the other day what I was considering, and she immediately shook her head.  "Oh, no, you don't want to do that.  You won't like it, I promise you, you won't like it."

Hmmm.  I mentioned it to another friend, who said, "Why do you want to do that?  Oh God, no."

A third friend said this:  "Oh, gosh, I couldn't do it.  I don't know if I'll ever do it."

These reactions surprised me.  I assumed friends would be more encouraging.  I hate to think I might have to walk this journey alone.

When I tell you what I'm considering doing, you might laugh.  Or, say, Oh, who cares what others think?  Or, say, Oh God, no, why do you want to do that?

I'm going to stop coloring my hair.

What is your first reaction upon reading that?  (I really want to know.  Please leave your letter choice in the comment box.)

a.  Are you nuts?
b.  You're going to look 10 years older.  ACK!
c.  Oh my goodness.  Well, it's your hair.
d.  People are going to treat you differently.  You'll regret it.
e.  I can't imagine such a thing.  Let's don't talk about it anymore.
f.  There, there now.  You're clearly out of you mind.  Here, have some chocolate.
g.  Good for you!

Hmmm.

To me, my reasons for giving up this ritual seem reasonable.

1.  I'm tired of it.  I've been doing it for 12 years.
2.  I'd like to put the money to other things.
3.  What's wrong with looking my age?  I don't even know what I've really looked like the past 12 years.
4.  I'd like to be free of presenting a colored version of myself.
5.  I think I've reconciled that I'll look older.  Older than what?  My fake hair color?
6.  I'd like to encourage other women to think about ditching the dye job too.  When did we come to believe we had to look younger?  Men don't do this (some do, but not most.)
7.  My hair dresser told me we still don't know the long-term effects of repeatedly painting chemicals onto our scalps.  What if, someday, we learn that fat cells, or wrinkles come from hair dye?  The ultimate irony.

Anyhoo...this is what I'm thinking about.  I want to try letting my natural hair color - whatever it is (it might be purple for all I know) - grow in unpainted. And because I want input about this sensitive issue, I'm going to write about it here.  Even if, six months from now, I run, screaming, into CVS for a box of L'Oreal #5AR.  It might be just be too horrific.

But, I want to see.  I think.  I want to be able to look into the mirror and just say, hello, you.  This is what 57 looks like. 

 Will you join me on this journey of self-discovery?   I might need your help.

PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7

May Days

According to my May posts, in May, I learned I have fibromyalgia, and I made Biscotti and Puffy Biscuit Rolls.  Lest you think all I do around here is develop odd syndromes, and then bake, here's a few other things that happened in May.

1.  I gave up extra sugar.  Crazy, right?  Especially, since I love to bake (and eat Biscotti and biscuits rolls.)  But, it was time.  The big surprise - it hasn't been that difficult.  In three weeks, I've cheated twice.  I'll get better.  It helps that I CAN have an ounce of dark chocolate a day.  Whoo-hoo!

2.  I researched and started ingesting glucosamine sulfate, Curamin, and ribose.  These are supplements that supposedly help fibro.  Isn't that fascinating?  I'll keep ya' posted.

3.  I visited eight doctor's offices.  Between the folks and myself, we're keeping the physicians in town hopping.

4.  I attended a womens' retreat with a good friend.  We had quiet time, prayer time, and a great meal that I did not fix.  That was the best part.

5. My daughter and I made soup and homemade bread for a women who was fading from this life due to cancer.  She passed the following day.  Our gift to her was probably her last meal.  I pray it soothed her body and calmed her spirit.

6.  Our girl celebrated a birthday.  Here she is at age five, exploring life though a magnifying glass.

Today, she teaches high schoolers science and character.  She doles out Jolly Ranchers on test days and gives extra credit points for observed kindnesses. If I had a science teacher like her, I would have almost liked high school.

7.  Our baby boy had a birthday.  He weighed nearly ten pounds at birth, and my bladder has never been the same.  He's now the tallest one in the family, but he'll always be my little bubba.

Here he is getting caught in the rain with his lovely wife.

8.  My Dad had a birthday.  Here he is enjoying his favorite thing on earth - a night out with our girl getting frozen yogurt and double hot fudge.

Have you ever seen a happier 91-year old?  We have several May birthdays, but we make the biggest ta-da over this one.

9.  We spent an hour at Starbucks with our financial advisor.  A cup of sweet chai tea makes the number-crunching go down more smoothly.

10.  My brother, the ex-clown, was in town with his colleagues.  They like to visit our local pie shop and come to our place with the goods.  We all eat like pigs before they go back to work.

This was the cream of the crop.

LEMON MERINGUE

Is this gorgeous, or what?  We have the best pie shop in the country.  Sadly, they don't ship because it's cost prohibitive, but if you're ever near Melbourne, Florida, Sweetie Pies is the place to go. 

June already has four doctor appointments listed, as well as a colonoscopy.   I'll spare you the details on that one.

Summer has arrived!

Only One Thing is Unchanging

I just received some news that a blogging buddy has breast cancer.

This makes me sad.  She's a joyous writer who now has to make some difficult decisions.

I'm reminded of Angelina Jolie and her COURAGEOUS CHOICE.

T.D. Jakes wrote that "life is the great equalizer," and I think of that quote often.  No matter how young or beautiful or successful or healthy we are - eventually, we lose it all.  In our final hour, we can't take beauty or strength or money or power with us.

What we can leave behind is the effects of our generosity, or kindness, or sacrifice.  Loved ones will benefit by what we shared and gave, not by what we hoarded or wasted.  When someone I know becomes ill, or dies, I am reminded of this.  As Elton John referenced, our lives are "candles in the wind."  We are bright and shining for only a time, and then we are gone.

As many of you know, my parents are 91 and almost 94.  Their lights are dimming, but they still sparkle when we are with them.  They have made a lasting impact on so many people over the course of their lives.  They were both in the Navy, both served tirelessly in their church for over sixty years, raised four children, and buried one when he was just 23.  They've lost most of their friends and half of their siblings.  They understand heaven is close, but if there's still good work to be done, gosh darn, they're going to do it.

When some people become ill, they question God - why me?  My blogging friend said, Why not me?  I'm no more special than anyone else.  What a beautiful perspective.  As the saying goes, God never promised us a rose garden.  Even if He had, lest we forget - a rose garden is full of thorns.

Such is life here on the planet.  Roses and thorns.  God wants us to know He is with us through both - the smelling of the roses and the wounding by the thorns.  His love for us, His plans for us don't change.   He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

After the rose petals are crushed beneath the snow, and the thorns are rendered powerless, and the breasts are removed, and legs no longer work, and memories are no longer clear, God and His love for us is exactly the same.

CFS and Fibro - Huh?

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Sharing My Care-taking Heart

I was going to acknowledge St. Patrick's day yesterday, but the day got away from me, and before I knew it, it was tomorrow.  Or today.   Anyhoo...hope you all had a shamrock-y kind of day.  I have some Irish in me by way of my maternal grandmother, but I did not get the lovely green eyes, or auburn hair.  Our daughter got those.  She's pretty lucky too, so I think she's the Irish gem in our family. 

Today...I found myself here with Dad again...

If you guessed we were at the library or Pizza Hut, you get a goose egg.  We made our weekly trip to the ER for another infection.  Since the placement of Dad's SP tube, infections have been popping up weekly.  We're on a hamster wheel...around and around we go.  He's only off antibiotics for a day or two before another bug starts brewing.  We see the urologist again on Thursday. 

How long can this go on, I keep asking myself?  Can one be on antibiotics forever?  Doesn't seem like a good plan, but what are the options?  A 90+ bladder is a puzzling thing.  Dad's spirits are pretty good, although he's very tired of ER runs.  I'm grateful we have a good ER set-up and to date, the docs and nurses have been very kind.  We should be racking up some frequent flyer miles though. 

We're flying to MD this weekend to help my in-laws get settled in a new apartment.  My father-in-law had a stroke last week and is now in rehab.  The hubs and I are going to be helping clean out the old townhouse and hoping to bring some cheer to these youngsters, who are 85-ish.  When you work with 90-year olds, folks in their 80's look pretty spry.

I've been helping my folks for five years, since Dad's stroke in 2009.  It's been such an eye-opener to realize all that's involved in helping the elderly.  As body parts deteriorate, there are many, many issues that have to be addressed.  Geriatrics is an entire field of study that I never thought two hoots about until my dad needed assistance.  I continue to be surprised by how complicated the body is and how one weak unit affects the others.  It's like trying to play catch up with a cheater.  The game isn't really fair, and we never get ahead.

I know our time with my parents and my in-laws is limited, and we do our best to be helpful.  I somehow think that will change all this - that the right care, enough attention, enough encouragement will make the decline stop, or at least slow down.  But, it doesn't.  This makes me very sad, and sometimes, I just cry for no reason.  I'm not having a bad day, and nothing triggers it, but tears just come.  I think my heart is weary of the long goodbye. 

My sweet mother-in-law with two of her seven children

I've heard people who have a loved one dealing with Alzheimer's talk about this.  Neither my folks, nor my in-laws have been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, just some standard dementia expected at their age.  But, it's true that walking through the years of decline in a loved one is like a relentless grieving.   You know the end is coming, but you don't know when, so you guard yourself, and yet prepare yourself, and the heart goes back and forth and up and down and outward and inward. 

My only strength is in God, and His love for all of us.  I have no strength of my own anymore to uplift and help Mom and Dad.  My flesh is truly weak.  Even up to last year, I thought the efforts of my family could change things, but they really can't.  There will come a time when all I have left to do for the folks is to just hold their hands and smooch their foreheads. 

This whole letting go thing is so strange.  Dad thinks he will walk again and visit his childhood home in Indiana sometime.  Mom thinks if Dad took better care of himself, he'd live forever.  They both think every doctor visit will offer some new solution that will cure them of all their ills and turn back time.  

And I keep thinking all of this will surely get easier.

 

Waiting for the New Year to Feel New

I'm still struggling to get back into my pre-holiday routine.  I'm still not well, but getting better.  I'm still tired, still not motivated to get back to THE BOOK.  January 2014 is going to be a wash.

I need a kick in the pants to get back into gear.  I wrote a piece today for MMW, the blog I contribute to twice a month.  I shared some discouragement, but realized, in the end, I'm doing the best I can in this crazy writing life.

You can read it here: MMW POST

I'm hoping to get back to my perky, brilliant self soon.  This sniffly, hacking, sore-joint self is wearing out its welcome.  Boo.

 

I hope your January has been virus free and that you're making headway on your 2014 resolutions!  Tell me about them, so I can live energetically through you.  

Angelina's Choice

This blog site is no longer operational. Currently, this post (Angelina's Choice) is only available at my NEW SITE HERE.  Re-pin this post with its new URL, so you don't lose it! 

What You Need to Know About MANGOES

This blog site is no longer operational. Currently, this post (about mangoes) is only available at my NEW SITE HERE.  Re-pin this post with its new URL, so you don't lose it!