Gracefully

So, I'm getting older. Not much I can do about it -- the only remedy for getting old is dying young and I'd just as soon stick around for awhile. After all, I've got a new little one in my life that I've got to teach a thing or two. When parents get ridiculous (and we/they all do), that's when grandparents step in to set everyone straight. We just can't be too obvious about it.

Anyway, this aging thing is not a lot of fun. Because of the DNA I so blessedly received, unless they discover a new wonder drug, I'm going to suffer with arthritis for the rest of my life, and it's likely to get worse instead of better. Also, because of inherited traits, I have high blood pressure and thyroid issues but they are under control. I have a few gray hairs -- including stupid "sideburns" that stick out like something scared me half to death. It's just a part of the way it is and, like anybody else, I'm dealing with the hand I was dealt as gracefully as possible.

But there are some good things about getting older. There are times now when I can truly say "don't have to, don't wanna, ain't gonna'". I don't have to worry about being "cool" or "with it" because I really don't care and, if I did, who else would? There's not much worse than an "older" person trying to hold onto a youth that has gone with the wind. No, I'm not completely comfortable in my skin -- I've never seen a photo of myself that I really liked -- I need to lose weight and it worries me but mostly for health reasons -- and in those moments of sheer rage when I'm trying on clothes. I have that deadly combination of love food/hate exercise. But, otherwise, the wrinkles are here to stay and, though I never say never, there won't be any Botox going on anytime soon.

But...

It's one thing to look in the mirror and see yourself -- I've done it for many, many years -- there hasn't been anything that has surprised me. I haven't gotten up one morning and found any drastic change from the day before. Same with the people I see every day -- my children grew up -- but, as with all aging, it was gradual. They were not little, then suddenly, big. Neither was my belly. My husband looks the same to me now as he did back then -- though if I look back at pictures of ourselves, this is not actually the case -- but, living day to day, the passage of time is just not that noticeable.

But then, I see pictures of people I used to know -- people who I have not had the privilege of seeing from day to day, week to week or even year to year. For some of them, Father Time has been generous; for others, not so much. And the thing is, I don't know where I fit in the spectrum because we never see ourselves the way others do. This can be good or bad and maybe it's better to never know which one it is. Anyway, it's seeing my contemporaries that make me realize that time has indeed been parading by while I was busy doing something else. And, while on the inside, my thought processes and the things that make me tick, haven't changed all that much, the outside surely has to those who haven't been around to watch me gradually get older.

And then there's Men Without Hats.

What, you may ask, are you talking about this time, fangurl?

Well, they were group which had one major (and, maybe one minor) hit back in the early 80s. The lead singer was named Ivan -- I even called a character in one of my (unpublished) novels by that name. I could Safety Dance until the cows came home -- though I had no idea what a "safety dance" actually was (I do now...thank you Wikipedia...it only took me nearly 30 years to figure it out). Watching the video of the song just recently (that would be thanks to YouTube), I was transported back to another time and I couldn't keep my feet still but, oh, Lord, why didn't I just stop there?


But, no, I had to look Ivan up and what he was doing today and reality hit me with a thunk. He is, like me, no longer young -- and no longer hirsute -- which is why, perhaps, he's wearing a hat nowadays. Anyway, I've been trying to reconcile then and now, though I'm not at all sure that reconciliation is actually possible.

I'm also thinking safety dance might have a whole other meaning nowadays -- like be careful, because if you fall off that stage, it's gonna' hurt like hell.

Apparently, Men Without Hats (Ivan is the only original member  -- which included two of his brothers -- participating) is going on tour.

With the B-52s.

Call me jaded -- I prefer realistic -- but I just don't think that love shack is going to be shimmying like it used to.

But I'd pay to see it.

If I can stay up that late.

What I learned on Saturday Night

We attended a beautiful wedding on Saturday night. The time was 7 PM -- so, of course, there are rules about what one should wear (it was not black tie). As a person who doesn't particularly like to "dress up" -- and who owns very few things that would be considered even slightly dressy -- it can be an issue to figure out what to wear and when to wear it. Of course, every time I've ever fretted about it, it's been useless -- at this wedding -- as most others I've attended -- there was no clear consensus about what should have been worn. A few women wore sparkly ensembles, some wore the little black dress, most had on what you might wear to a church service. I could only roll my eyes -- at myself -- for even taking time to worry about it. I could have used that time to agonize over something completely different.

Like the wreck my son was involved in, in Atlanta, a week or so ago. He walked away and so did the other people. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. And, thanks again to God, we happened to be in Atlanta at the time.

Or my big dog who somehow, freakishly, broke his "shoulder" -- an injury that usually isn't seen unless the animal has been hit by a car (he was not) or because of something even more sinister -- a tumor. Happily, there is no tumor so he is just a freak. Still, he is not completely out of the woods -- the nerve which operates the (front) leg, was not severed but it may not work again. He has some movement in that leg -- and he is getting around just fine on three legs -- but, if he can't eventually put that foot down and use it, it may well mean amputation. Time will tell. But he is alive and, otherwise, well.

Back to the wedding -- after the nuptials, we headed off to the reception which was being held downtown. We ate, we talked, we watched the newlyweds dance. But, not long into the festivities, a man collapsed -- and turned completely blue. As you can imagine, everything came to a grinding halt.  The singer in the band began calling for a "doctor in the house."

Well, it's his training, I suppose, that makes him just act but Mark (we were only a few yards away because we'd chosen to go to the food table on the left) sprang into action and reached the man first. Another doctor -- a cardiologist -- followed, along with a couple of nurses. So, a man who was not breathing, had a cardiologist and an anesthesiologist working on him immediately.

I've never seen CPR done in person. It is a most violent act. The protocols for CPR no longer include "mouth to mouth" resuscitation but, after the man did not begin breathing, Mark did it, anyway. Now, I'm not going to give all credit to my husband -- it may well have been that the combination of activities around this man contributed to his rescue -- but, once Mark did that, he started breathing again.

Of course, the speculation going around was that this man had had a massive heart attack -- he had not -- he probably wouldn't have come back from that, no matter what -- and his pulse was strong the whole time. The problem was that he lost his airway -- and if you lose your airway, you don't breathe. And, if you don't breathe, you die. 

When the man "came back", he had no idea what had happened. Mark told him he was going to the hospital and he asked, "why?"  He is still in the hospital today -- they are doing a myriad of tests -- he has already "passed" all of the heart ones. They may never find a cause -- though Mark believes, considering he was eating at the time, that he probably choked on a piece of food. And, by the way, if someone has already collapsed, you don't stand them up to do anything to them -- including the Heimlich. If there are medical people present, don't holler out what you think ought to be done because it's usually wrong and could do more harm than good. And it really irritates -- and might distract -- the people who do know what they are doing.

Anyway, I'm not writing this to call my husband a hero -- in his mind, he just did what every doctor knows how to do (though if you are having a respiratory episode like this, an anesthesiologist is probably the guy you want most). I'm actually writing this for another reason.

And that is this:

What possible difference does it make what you wear to a wedding?

It doesn't.

Personally, I don't think, unless I'm a part of the wedding party, that I'll ever give it more than a passing thought (such as, is what I want to wear clean?) ever again.

And that's what I learned on Saturday night.

April in November...and no, it's not about the weather...

The new recommendations on mammograms may be a glimpse into the future: a government task force deciding what's best for our health. Yes, I know they had physicians and scientists on this force (very appropriate word?) but I just don't know -- it's government, after all, and we'd all best be a wee bit suspicious, if you ask me. But there seems to be a lot of folks who've been blinded by the reflected light off of Nancy Pelosi's pearly whites. Which I bet she got from the best dentist congress can buy.

When I read this article in the morning paper, I thought I'd blacked out for months and woke up on April Fool's Day. The task force says that women under 50 don't need mammograms and "after 75, the benefits of mammograms are unknown". My own mother might be dead now, if she had not had a routine mammogram after 75.

The report also says that "breast self-exams are of no value". If this wasn't so serious, it would be laughable. Do they not realize how many women have discovered lumps themselves? And now they're saying this is of no value? Do they not understand that there are foolish women out there who might say, "okay, I won't do self-exams anymore because they aren't worth it"? Even if only a small percentage of lumps are found in this manner, saying that it is of no value is ludicrous -- especially considering that doing a self-exam is free -- it's not like anybody is having to pay for it. So, why in the world would they even say this? Is it going to hurt the women if they continue to do it? It's much more likely to hurt them if they don't.

What exactly is going on here?

Now, I know what some folks will say -- that this is just a recommendation, that it won't affect what women and their physicians choose to do. I hope it won't but government-run health care (whether Medicare, Medicaid or a "public option") is not going to give you a choice because the government will say you don't need a routine test and, therefore, they won't pay for it (unless you have risk factors). Apparently, saving one life here or one there is not important enough. Tell that to a breast cancer survivor, if you're brave enough.

Would someone in Washington just get a clue? There's actually a real world out here.

For more on this, go here.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow...

Yesterday was a long day. I spent over four hours with my mother in the emergency room. She'd been complaining of stomach pain (along with enough other things that I lose count) on and off but she called me early in the morning and said the pain was much worse. Anyway, at this point, there wasn't much point in going to her primary care doctor because the only thing she could have really done, anyway, was send her over to the hospital for tests. By going to the ER, it was like "one stop shopping" because they did everything right there -- including a CT scan which showed she has diverticulitis. So, she's on medication and a restricted diet for a few days and she should be feeling better soon. This is likely to flare up again but at least now she knows what it is. If she doesn't get to feeling significantly better, we may have to put her in the hospital for one or two nights.

Mark is sick today. Of course, he has to be unable to get out of bed before he'll stay home. If he has to cancel procedures or appointments, then his patients get upset and then he has a lot of catch-up to do, even for one day. This seems to be a cold -- he says he thinks he caught it from Wesley, who he saw last weekend. I reminded him that Wesley was diagnosed with H1N1 (though whether that was what it actually was, I have no idea). Whatever it is, I hope Carrie and I can avoid it.

I got my temporary crown this morning -- it wasn't too bad -- lots of drilling but I didn't feel a thing. The left side of my mouth and lips are still pretty numb but it's getting better. I'll get my permanent crown in 2 or 3 weeks.

We're having a lot of rain around here from the remnants of hurricane Ida. Five or more inches this morning in some areas but, where we are, we're fine. Early this morning, not only was it raining but the wind was blowing. It's kind of scary when I think that we don't know what it's doing outside during the night while we're sleeping. Sometimes I don't even hear thunder.

We got a call from the man painting our house at Lake Oconee -- seems the sewage is backing up -- probably from the rain. That happened once before -- I was there when it happened before and, believe me, you could not stay inside the house. I hope Mark can get somebody to take care of it long-distance because he's in no shape to be dealing with plumbing.

Anyway, yesterday and today haven't been the best of days...and tomorrow isn't looking great either...but we'll make it through. We always do.

One day at a time...

I had a doctor's appointment today -- I'd been dreading it because I've fallen off the wagon. No, not the alcohol wagon -- never been on that one and don't ever intend to climb aboard -- no, my wagon is full of barbecue potato chips and macaroni and cheese.

Sigh. We all know that being too heavy is not good (for me) for a variety of reasons -- arthritis, asthma. And diabetes.

It was about a year ago that I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. While most doctors probably wouldn't even have ordered the glucose test at that point, mine did. And I was grateful -- because it gave me a head's up to do something immediately instead of waiting until the situation was worse. I initially lost 10 pounds without doing much more than cutting out sweets (which I don't eat a lot of, anyway -- give me starch!) and watching my portions (this is where I fail miserably but, damn, food is good). Over time, I lost another five or so, though those last ones fluctuated from week to week. Even with that relatively small weight loss (which I've managed to keep off -- I just haven't lost any more), I felt better and my clothes (that I already had) fit better. I knew, though, that this wasn't going to be easy and that it was a lifestyle change I had to make. I had made a good start but then...

Dogs starting dying left and right and, over the past year, I've found myself sinking more and more into depression. I've been functional -- it's nothing like the postpartum depression I suffered years ago -- but life has just not been, well, as good as I wish it would be. Let me correct that -- life is good -- I'm not. At any rate, I've bumped up my anti-depressant, so, hopefully, things will get better in a few weeks' time (if not, then, hello, new anti-depressant).

Except that here comes Christmas.

I have actually been looking forward -- a little -- to Christmas this year -- not my favorite holiday -- it's just too stressful for me. I long for an 0ld-fashioned Christmas -- with very little shopping and no cooking. Well, I guess no cooking isn't very old-fashioned -- so, how about everything cooked by somebody else? Hey, I will do dishes...

Anyway, I'm still not at the point where I need medication for the diabetes and, I hope, if I'm successful in trimming off some of this fat (let's be honest, here), I might be able to avoid a pill for the foreseeable future. So, wish me luck -- and, better yet, say a prayer. I've just got to get back to exercising and eating better -- on the bright side, all my other blood work was good, including cholesterol.

Maybe I should tape a photo of a Komodo Dragon -- chowing down -- on my refrigerator door. Yuck. By the way, that's one island where I'm never going.

So, here's to shedding a few pounds and to my spirits lifting.

One day at time.

Toothy Tiara

I've never been a Monday-hater -- I guess when you're a stay-at-home mom, Mondays are actually good days -- husband goes back to work, kids go back to school. I can see, though, how, for a working-outside-the-home person -- male or female -- Mondays might just be a supreme nuisance.

Anyway, this particular Monday isn't too great -- although it could be worse.

Over the weekend, while eating Fritos, of all things, I broke a tooth. I've never broken one before so this is a new experience for me -- fortunately, it's not visible (it's a molar) and not painful. This morning, the dentist did an x-ray and as soon as our dental insurance approves it, I'll be getting a crown.

'Bout time, though it isn't exactly the kind of crown I had in mind.

Anyway, it may be two or more weeks before this gets approved -- I was wondering, what if were painful? I am pretty tough when it comes to pain -- I've actually had nurses come in after I've had surgery and ask me didn't I want something, pretty please -- and I've said no, thanks. But, when it comes to mouth pain, it's a different story. You won't see me screaming or crying but there's just so much I can take. I suppose, if that were the case, they'd go ahead and do something but, at the moment, I can wait and it's probably better to go through the proper channels in hopes that the crown will be covered -- rather than going ahead without approval and risking them saying no because it wasn't pre-certified. But, guess what -- if it's not covered-- I'm getting it done, anyway, insurance be damned.

Otherwise, it's just another Monday. And though breaking a tooth is not ideal, at least I didn't hear the words "root canal".

That might have caused me to have a little tantrum in my tiara.

Whose life is it anyway?

I've been watching the health care debates with great interest -- like all other Americans, it will effect me -- not only as a patient -- which I've been many times -- but also as a wife of a physician -- which I've been for nearly 30 years. I can actually see both sides of this issue with a certain amount of clarity -- which I fully admit most folks -- on both sides of the issue -- really don't -- and many don't even try.

The fact of the matter is both sides have some good points and nobody needs to be marginalized because they disagree with someone else. After all, this country was built on freedom of speech (yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah) and, if someone feels they have a grievance, then they are well-within their rights to express themselves -- especially to their congressmen/women who ought to be listening.

I find it very disheartening that these people venting their frustrations 0r simply sharing their stories have been vilified as "evil-mongers" -- personally, I would place child molesters or dog-fighting-sports-stars in that category. There's something quite sad about any American referring to another using that term just because they have a different opinion. And it seems to me that other protesters -- like those against the war (pick a war, any war) have made it quite clear that they are well within their rights to protest. Whether you like it or not, what's good for the goose has to be good for the gander.

I watched a lot of the town hall meetings (from various sources). There were times when I wondered if I was watching the same thing some of the commentators were watching. Yes, there were some instances of folks shouting when they shouldn't have been (including some of the representatives) but there were many more instances of people speaking calmly and politely -- but that wasn't really what was covered on the news. Instead, we heard about people toting guns -- I only heard about one case -- and that person had a permit to do so. Were others carrying weapons? Maybe -- but who really knows? Unless these were seen and counted, then saying such a thing is really making up a story where there is none. I also read about how these meetings were mostly full of disgruntled seniors -- well, I did see a lot of seniors -- and just as many middle-aged folks -- and younger. But, somehow, that got lost in the translation. I also saw a lot of questions get non-answers.

So, for what they're worth, here are more of my thoughts:

*Congress was getting ready to pass a bill which very few of them had even read. I don't care if it was 1 page or a 1000 pages -- it needed to be read. There also needs to be clear explanations, about what the bill contains, to any constituent, passionate or not, who asked a question. No bill -- of any size -- and especially one of such importance -- should be rammed through Congress without a thorough understanding by all concerned.

*To Congress -- you work for us. Period. Get off your high horse. Get off "we know what's good for you because you don't" kick. Get off the damn phone. And listen. And here's another idea: term limits.

*If people feel that they have to yell to be heard, then so be it. I've yelled at my husband and my kids when I didn't think they were listening to me. I know that's a different kettle of fish but...actually...no...it's not. It's what happens when folks feel that they are being ignored. Once people felt they were being listened to, things calmed down considerably. And, if you don't know that, you are not listening.

*Most people simply don't want non-medical bureaucrats telling them what kind of care they can receive. Or when they can receive it -- or whether they have to take the "blue" pill because it's cheaper than the "red" pill. I really don't believe most people believe there is any such thing as a "death panel", however, rationing will occur if the bottom line is, well, the bottom line. It's pretty much the only way to cut costs across the board. So, if you're healthy -- or have an illness which responds to conventional treatment -- great. Otherwise, it's a bit iffy.

*Tort reform -- you will hear people say that this makes very little difference in the cost of health care. You will mostly hear lawyers say this. And most of the members of Congress are -- you guessed it -- lawyers. Here's how it works -- doctors have to practice defensive medicine -- meaning ordering expensive, possibly non-needed tests -- because if they don't and something goes wrong, they will get sued because they didn't order the tests. The funny thing is, while this new plan would take some of those decisions away from doctors, the ability for patients to sue because of what will be termed substandard care will still remain. It's a no-win situation for everybody involved.

*There is a shortage of doctors already. It'll get worse. Why would anyone want to spend all of that money on medical school (and I assure you it's a lot -- and the tuition will not go down) and then not be able to practice what they know is best for their patients? And, believe me, there are a lot of doctors, right this minute, thinking about retiring earlier than they had planned -- just to get out of the coming chaos. Your best and brightest? Say bye-bye. They can do just as well in other fields -- which don't have as much restriction -- or stress.

*The American Medical Association does not represent the majority of physicians. In fact, only about 20% of doctors are members of the AMA. The AMA is mostly made up of academicians who do not see patients. My husband is a member but he's about to pull out. So, if you hear someone say, "well the AMA said...", do some research -- and ask your doctor if he's a member -- and why or why not.

I do believe that health care in this country definitely needs to be tweaked -- maybe it even needs a major overhaul. But, there has to be some rational, non-partisan -- and inclusive -- thought processes going on about this -- so far, I haven't really heard much, from either side, that's really brought forth a good solution. It can't simply be a contest to see who can do what and how fast -- and it can't be done overnight. You also can't just look at the big picture without also paying attention to the little details.

I leave you with this lightbulb moment quote from our president:

"UPS and Fed Ex are doing just fine. It’s the Post Office that’s always having problems."


For some of my other thoughts on health care, go here.

Ouch

From Imagination Prompt:

Describe the most serious illness or accident that you have had.

I've had a few unpleasant illnesses/accidents in my life.

I was hit by a car when I was seven -- the driver turned a corner too fast but, fortunately, it still wasn't that fast and I was okay, though I still carry a couple of scars on my knees. The woman who hit me would come by often and bring me presents -- her guilt over it went on for much longer than any concern I had.

I had a retropharyngeal abscess once. Don't know, to this day, why or how I got it. I had to have surgery and then I was okay -- and it's not been anything which has reoccurred.

I had a CT scan (for asthma problems) which showed a mass (right above my breastbone) but when they opened me up, it was not there. Artifact (something which shows up on a scan which isn't actually there) or divine intervention? I'll take either one.

All of those were fairly frightening but probably the worst was what happened when my second child was born. I'd been having peculiar contraction-like pains but my doctor seemed to think it was Braxton-Hicks. Long story short, I had a regular appointment on the morning of July 6 (the baby was due July 14) and when the nurse took my blood pressure, I literally saw her jump out of her skin (okay, not literally but close enough). I was put in the hospital immediately where my water was broken -- it was full of blood -- and I was having an emergency c-section within minutes. I had to have more surgery because, in the rushed effort to get the baby out, a suture had gone around one ureter -- so that had to be fixed.

Anyway, this was a placental abruption. I had to have a blood transfusion because I'd lost so much of my own and I don't remember much about that day -- or the days afterward -- I do remember asking Mark if I was going to die -- and, quite frankly, I was so sick, I didn't care if I did. Fortunately, baby Wesley was fine -- but I had to stay in the hospital for nine days. Wesley will be 22 in July and, while there are a lot of things I can't remember, the overall experience still lingers somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Even so, I made the decision to have another baby, knowing another abruption was a real concern. As well it should have been -- but that's another story for another day.

Anyway, this was one of those things which, only fifty years ago -- maybe fewer -- would have probably taken me (and the baby) out of this world. It just shows why so many women -- and babies -- died over the course of history. The abscess would have probably done me in as well, had I not been living in the modern era.

So, yeah, this is why when I say I would love to time travel, I would want the ability to get back to this time period pronto. Because sometimes you haven't got a moment to lose.

Aw, nuts!

From Imagination Prompt

Are you ready to change that one thing about yourself that drives you nuts? How?

One thing?! Seriously?!

I actually have worked on changing some things about myself that I don't like, namely my ability to get overwrought about things which really don't matter. Not that I don't still do it on occasion but I've really begun (finally) to learn what's worth it and what isn't. Most things will work themselves out, one way or the other. You do your best, then you have to step back and let it run its course. There's nothing like planning a wedding, which we did last year, to teach you not to sweat the small stuff.

I've definitely learned to not be a people-pleaser, so that's been a good change, though I'm not so sure I've ever really been one. I really don't care what someone else thinks about me. However, this is not a free pass to say whatever pops into my head, do absolutely anything I have a mind to do or to be rude and unsympathetic (the only thing that I'm totally unsympathetic about is people who smoke, then complain about respiratory illnesses or who have no money to burn except, somehow, on cigs). Other than behaving in a decent and courteous manner, I'm not looking to please anyone.

I have a tendency to be judgmental. I'm much, much better about this though I think it's one of the hardest habits to break. We tend to judge other people on what they wear, how they rear their children, their opinions (political or otherwise), their religion (a big one), etc. -- we think we know better than they do, that we have all the answers -- and we may have answers -- but only for ourselves. Before any of us take someone to task, we'd better take a long, hard look in the mirror. It's human nature to be judgmental so I know I'm not alone in this -- though "everyone else is doing it" is never a good excuse (just ask any parent!).

But my number one nut-producing activity is how I deal with a certain person in my life. I tend to grit my teeth and internalize -- and then feel guilty about it. More than anything, I wish I could just let this kind of thing roll off my back but, as of yet, I haven't found the off switch. Because of this, I think I actually get physically ill -- not to be mention very tired, emotionally and mentally. I would change this in a heartbeat if I could. I know it's my attitude which has to change because the other person's attitude certainly isn't going to any time soon.

Anyway, I suppose, if you ask my husband what, about me, drives him nuts, he could probably come up with a list a mile long. And, really, he's the one who has to live with me. I'm just on the inside, looking out.

Roses are red...so is blood..

A friend of ours has a young cousin who's here at the Joseph M. Still Burn Center -- you may have heard of it -- it's where Travis Barker and DJ AM were brought after their plane crash in South Carolina. Burn patients, as you may know, often require blood transfusions so, often, the blood center here asks for donations to help replenish the supply -- donations aren't necessarily given to the victim but are used as a credit toward what the patient needs and also serves to build the blood supply back up as it gets used.

I've only donated blood a few times -- I have tiny veins and, sometimes, even getting a couple of tubes of blood out of me for blood work is a chore so I don't always think about donating the way I should. I thought they were going to say no today -- my hubby was already finished donating by the time they got me going -- but they ended up being successful.

I've often thought about being a bone marrow donor -- but I haven't worked up to that one yet. The testing is easy but the actual harvesting of the marrow can be pretty rough, so I've heard. I've got a high pain tolerance but I don't know whether I'm ready for that yet. I should do it, though. Just because.

Anyway, if you are able to donate blood, please do. You'll never know who you helped but you'll know you helped someone.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day -- another holiday for gift-giving and all that mushy stuff. But, it's also a day to tell someone you care about them. This year, by giving blood, I think I told someone I don't even know.

Losing it

I wrote about being diagnosed with diabetes a few months ago. It was really a blessing in disguise because, although I'd tried to lose weight over the years, I'd never put forth enough effort -- the diagnosis gave me the kick in the butt I needed. There was good news -- the diabetes had been caught early and if I could lose as little as 10 ten pounds, it would probably go away. Now, this didn't give me free reign to lose the weight and then stop worrying about it -- I will always have to be vigilant and will always carry the diagnosis.

At this point, I've lost about 15 pounds (depending on the scale I'm using -- but it's in that ballpark). And, while I don't have all the answers (who does?), I thought I'd share a few things I've learned. Each person, though, has to figure this out for themselves. Please know that everyone is different -- and what works for one person may not work for someone else. So, here we go:

*I'm doing this myself

First of all, I'm not knocking weight-loss programs like Jenny Craig or Nutrisytem. They have their place and they work great for some people. However, I needed to make a lifestyle change -- I wasn't in the market to lose X number of pounds and then return to my old habits. So, my choices were to either rely on pre-packaged foods forever, use them to lose a set amount of weight, then try to make it on my own or do this myself from the start. Since this was something I would have to deal with for the rest of my life, it made sense to make those changes immediately -- and on my own. If I had decided I needed help, I probably would have gone with a program like Weight Watchers.

*Slow is better than fast

It's seldom a good thing to lose weight quickly. A couple of pounds per week is quite enough. Folks who lose weight quickly tend to put it back on -- I'm not sure why this is except it probably has something to do with quick fixes not allowing enough time to develop a plan you can actually stick with long-term.

*Know and admit weaknesses

If there's a food you absolutely cannot resist, then don't have it in your house! This can be hard if others in your household don't need to avoid a certain food but, hopefully, they'll understand that you need to get your cravings under control. The fact of the matter is, if you leave it on the grocery shelf, it can't tempt you. In truth, my greatest weakness is eating out -- I don't really like to cook and other family members are very picky eaters -- so eating out is just plain easier. We all have our demons and that's mine. It's a struggle but I'm working on loving to cook. Okay, it ain't gonna' happen but I'm trying.

*Refined Sugar=Bad

No matter what excuses you make or hear, refined sugar is evil. And it's not just the sugar content in cookies and candy bars and cakes -- there are massive amounts of sugar in many products. I had to learn to really pay attention to labels and to avoid items high in sugar -- for me, this is more important than calories or fat because of the diabetes; however, I learned that items with high sugar content quite often also have a high calorie count -- so it's two birds with one stone.

*Fruit=Good

I've never been a big fruit eater but I've learned to be one. Fruit helps with sweet-cravings and has other properties which are excellent for health. We've always heard about "an apple a day..." Well, there seems to be a lot of truth in that. I try to eat at least one apple per day plus whatever other fruit I want.

*Exercise alone doesn't work

This is biggie. Exercise is discussed and discussed and discussed -- but I'd been exercising regularly for a long time and was underwhelmed with the results. But, when I changed my eating habits, the weight started coming off immediately. So, what have I deduced from this? Easy -- it's food that makes you fat. There I said it. Between watching my sugar intake and skipping the second helpings (unless it's veggies or fruit), I felt a difference during the first week of my "new life". The simple fact is, if you continue to take in more calories than you expend, exercise is not going to do the wonders the gurus claim it will.

*But exercise is still a good thing.

Exercise helps with overall health -- lowering blood pressure, giving you more stamina, helping you sleep, etc. But not all exercise is meant for all people -- figure out what you like to do. If you absolutely hate what you're doing, you will not want to do it. For me personally, there were a couple of things I knew right off the bat -- I won't go to a gym and I can't exercise without a TV. So, I have an an elliptical and a rower in my home -- and I try to use them for an hour, at least five days per week. I don't always reach my goal but I do the best I can. My hubby and I also try to walk when we're able. But I no longer depend on exercise only to lose weight. Again, it just won't work if you continue to overeat.

*Drink lots of water

The debate has gone back and forth about whether water helps you lose weight. All I know is that drinking water helps fill me up and, then, I don't get as hungry during the day. So, in that regard, it's very helpful. Sugar-free drinks help, too, but nothing beats water -- if for no other reason, it's just better for you. I do drink some diet-colas and Crystal Light -- and I drink coffee with skim milk. Milk, even skim, has sugar but this is the one area where I don't worry as much because the calcium is so important (especially at my age). So, I've cut out sugar elsewhere -- I've had to give up my beloved sweet tea -- and I don't skimp on milk.

*Stay off the scales

I do weigh myself from time to time but it's not a habit. There's nothing more frustrating than thinking you may have lost a pound or two but the scales say you haven't. And it's not good to get so wrapped up in a number that you forget the bigger picture -- which is an overall healthier lifetstyle.

*Stop the guilt trip

Sometimes I want and I have a piece of cheesecake or key lime pie. I do eat mac & cheese and potatoes. But I just don't do it every day. If I denied myself everything, all the time, then I'd go nuts. So, let yourself have a treat, here and there. This is nothing new -- folks have been saying this for ages -- but it's very true.

*Be realistic

I would love to lose 50 pounds -- and maybe I can -- but it's not going to happen overnight or probably even over a year. So, I concentrate on losing one pound at a time -- but I'm never going to be skinny and wear a size 2.

*Don't call it a diet

Call it, yes, you got it -- a lifestyle change. A diet is a plan for a quick fix. A lifestyle change is forever.

Wake Up Call

I have Type 2 diabetes.

I just found out about six weeks ago -- after having some regular blood work done, my doctor decided that my glucose level was a little too high. Even so, it wasn't that bad -- but she wanted me to do a glucose-tolerance test anyway.

I failed.

After the first hour, my glucose level was 220 -- anything over 200 is an automatic diagnosis. On the bright side, this was caught very soon -- a wake-up call, if you will. The situation is this -- although I will now always be predisposed to diabetes, if I can lose weight -- even as little as ten pounds -- this will most likely go away.

However, even if it does, it is not a free pass to go back to my old ways. Not only do I need to lose the weight (10 would be great -- I've lost two already -- 20 would be wonderful -- 25, cause for celebration) I need to maintain whatever weight loss I have. And that means a lifestyle change -- not a diet -- but a real change.

I've never been a big sweet-eater -- which is a plus -- but sweets aren't the only food that contain a lot of sugar. I've had to become much more proactive about what I'm putting in my mouth. I'm forcing myself to eat more fruits -- another food group that isn't my favorite -- though there are some I really like. I'm also having to say no to second-helpings. Well, most of the time. I'm getting better about it.

I'm also exercising (which I'd been doing anyway). Forty minutes on the elliptical and twenty on the rower, five times a week (that's my goal -- some days, I just don't make it). My hubby and I are trying to get back into the routine of walking two miles every night -- it's good for him and me.

So, there you have it. Another bump in the road but, at the moment, a minor one.

Depression Revisited

I have to talk about depression every once in a while because if, in some small way, it helps someone who is in the throes of it themselves or someone who is dealing with a family member or friend who is trying to cope, then it needs to be said. Although depression is talked about more these days than it used to be, there are still a lot of people out there who just don't get it. The reasons for this are myriad -- plain stupidity, refusal to deal with the facts, an underlying belief that if a person's outward life is good, then they have no reason to be depressed. Or, the worst one of all -- and the one which will get me riled up quicker than a swatted hornet -- is that their faith isn't strong enough to overcome it. Who would ever say that to someone who has cancer? Or who has had a heart attack or stroke? Nobody who has any compassion, that's for sure. The problem with depression is simply that there's not a physical test to prove it. And, for some folks, if there isn't, then it must be "all in the head".

I have been dealing with depression, on and off, for nearly seventeen years. Actually, probably more than that but I didn't recognize it as such until my last child was born and I was thrown into the pit of postpartum depression. I tell you the truth, if you really want to make somebody's life miserable, find a good Voodoo priestess and have them curse someone with depression. Not only will the person in question be cursed but so will everyone who loves them. It's that bad. For the record, no, I don't believe in Voodoo -- I'm just trying to make a point.

After I got over the bout of depression after my daughter was born, I came off the antidepressants and had a good run of it until the last couple of years. Whether it was life stresses or what, I found myself sinking down into that black hole again but, until last spring, I was able to claw my way out of it and, so, I refused to get back on medication. Finally, though, I reached a point where I needed help. I fully expected, once I started the medication, that I'd be on it the rest of my life.

I started with the lowest dose of Cymbalta (please, if anyone needs to take an antidepressant, DO NOT reject this drug because of what I'm writing here -- each person will have their own experience and it may be totally different than mine!). Within a couple of weeks, I felt better but I was still dealing with issues of anxiety which, up until this bout of depression, I'd never had before. Because of this, I began taking a larger dose. Unfortunately, this had two side effects which I had worried about: sexual problems and, even worse, the cessation of the voices in my head.

As far as sexual problems, this particular drug has a low incidence of them and, yet, there I was experiencing them (as I had with Paxil, years ago). I don't know -- maybe I'm just susceptible to that particular side effect-- as I said above, each person will have their own reaction, which may or may not mirror mine. I figured, at this point, I might need to switch to a different medication -- however, I was in the last month leading up to my daughter's wedding and I felt it wasn't the time to be dickering with medication. If the Cymbalta was keeping me on a somewhat even keel, then I needed to wait until after the wedding to try something new (especially since the first couple of weeks on Cymbalta, I stayed nauseated -- that did get better.

The voices problem was more urgent. Because, quite frankly, without the voices in my head, I'm just not, well, me. I've come to realize that I've been hearing voices all of my life -- though until the last few years, I didn't recognize or acknowledge just what they were -- and that not hearing them is almost equal to the black hole of depression. So, I stopped the medication entirely. Cold turkey. Not a smart move -- especially since I didn't even tell my physician hubby -- but, quite frankly, if I have to choose between no depression/no voices or some depression/voices -- guess which one I'm going to pick? Now, don't worry, if the depression was so bad I couldn't function in my day-to-day life or if I started having suicidal thoughts, taking medication would be a no-brainer (I hope).

As it is, I've made the choice to muddle along with the specter of depression hanging over my head. As for me, I can deal with it -- the person who really ends up getting the brunt of it is Mark. But he understands (as best he can) what I need -- or don't need -- in order to be creative.

I'm feeling pretty good right now, although we have some major issues coming up in our lives which might, at some point, cause me to backslide (just the nature of my personality). But the voices are coming back pretty strongly now -- it took a long time, even after stopping the antidepressant, for me to hear them clearly again. Almost as if they were afraid to disturb me. Silly creatures.

Let me make one thing perfectly clear -- I'm not trying to set myself up as an example for not taking medication. I'm all for it, if necessary. But, for me, this was the right course of action.

For now.

Tomorrow, though, might be a whole different story. And, trust me, I will tell it to you, in full detail.

Heartbeats

I spent most of the morning with my husband in the emergency room. He'd been having some heart issues -- which he's been ignoring -- for those who don't know, he's a physician and they are the worst at actually seeing a doctor about a problem. Anyway, he's okay but is going to have to have a complete cardiac workup -- whether he likes it or not. It scared me but not too bad. I seem to have a significant amount of faith that things will be okay during times like this. That's not bragging -- it's just a statement of fact. I couldn't tell you, though, what my attitude would be if the news had not been good. Have not been there, have not done that. I've gone through the death of my father, the death of in-laws, but have never experienced what it would be like to lose a spouse. I know that one day one of us will experience that. Don't know if it'll be me or him but, unless we die together, one of us will be left to grieve. Anyway, don't mean to be so maudlin but sometimes it just bees like that. August 8th is our 27th wedding anniversary. God willing and the creek don't rise, we'll have another 27.