“So this is what pain feels like…”

bonus if you figure out where that’s from…

d20knight kicked my tail at PS3’s sports active 2 last night. I gave it my all and barely survived a 5 minute work out and was promptly reminded what about exercise I can’t stand.

Oh yeh, I was diagnosed at birth with asthma.

::commence wheezing upon elevated heart rate in 3….. 2…..1… beep!::

Thankfully, even though we couldn’t locate my inhaler, I was able to get it under control with some zen meditation…in between barking coughs. Scared my hubby though who like d20 is also going to make a blog! I’ve started at trend at home! yay!

I don’t mind being a hipster if it means my husband and my best friend both live long long lives because they’re getting healthier. Now I just gotta get d20 to drop the nicotine… >_>

 

its sad that I got beat by a constant smoker  with another 5 more minutes on the clock. What’s even more sad is I still feel like my airway is slightly constricted today. 

I’m so out of shape… when I got up this morning I was like “hello legs! why you so noodle-y today?”

I may just slip on my sneakers for a short walk today and then soak for a few hours in a hot bath piled with episom salts. Sounds like heaven to me ^_^

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Boring Diary updates…

Blood sugar: 170 (non fasting)

Blood pressure: 144/96

Note to self: Rice is a BIG no no. Shouldn’t have had that bowl last night.

To Do List!

  1. make my victory list – in process
  2. make a list of trigger foods
  3. make a list of acceptable snacks
  4. find my exercise gear!

Had a bad night last night. I dreamed that my mother had text a family friend asking how “Cat was handling all of this”…. still can’t manage to “see” my mom in my dreams. Living 4 hours away from my hometown, contact with my mom when she was still here wasn’t too different from that. Texts and phone calls…

I managed to not cry the past two days when thinking about her. But this dream comes up and I feel like I’ve lost her all over again. Can’t call my grandmother’s without hearing my mom’s voice on the answering machine, but I call anyways because I miss her voice.

My Grandmother’s home holds many memories of me and my mom… maybe because that’s also where my mom and grandmother could express their bond as well. My grandmother had one of those huge wooden swings on the porch. Or maybe it was just huge in my memories…

Anyways, my mom would sit on the swing in cool summer days, enjoying the breeze off the coast and I would lie next to her, my head looking up at her from her lap. She’d run her fingers through my hair idly, always getting onto me about not brushing my mop. I’d avoid the subject and ask her for stories of when she was a little girl.

The day mom passed… the ICU had changed mom’s status from ICU to hospice. The doctor came in and told us we could take her home and that we’d have days… maybe… 2 at the most. Hospice would come in and change out the bandages, administer the morphine but that was it. At this point, there was going to be no further monitoring of her vitals. This was to be an exercise of Comfort. Keep her as comfortable as possible until the end. All we had to do was ready my grandmother’s house where the hospital bed was to be sent, wait for the equipment to be delivered and then for the ambulance to bring mom home. By noon, the house was ready… by 3 pm the equipment arrived. The delivery guy explained how everything worked so we could help mom in any way. He was done by 5 ish. Dad called at 6 to tell us Mom had passed. I was tending to my Alzheimer’s inflicted grandfather outside at the now Wicker Swing, making sure he didn’t wander off and get lost from the impact of his daughter slowly dying when my aunt ran out, sputtering that mom is gone…. Just… Gone.

All I think was no nononononononono….No was my mantra… it got my legs moving back into the house where wails and tears filled the solemn air. I felt panic…like being trapped in my nightmare. I was trapped in my nightmare. Mom was gone. And now a looming hospital bed that would never be used darkened a corner of my grandmother’s living room. I went into the dining room where my grandmother, my aunt and others were falling to pieces. I got the number to the hospice and to the equipment delivery truck and called them to inform them of my mother’s passing so my grandmother didn’t have to do it. They said they’d come pick it up the next day and it took everything in me to keep from lashing out at them. I had family who were mourning my mother with the empty bed she was supposed to be in. No way would I put my grandparents, my father, my brother and sister go through that torment. I told them to come get it that night or I’d have their jobs by morning.

They were there and gone by 9.

I don’t think I’ve smoke more in my entire life than I did that night. And I only vaguely remember eating that night. Like I was daring my mother, Come stop me! She hated the idea of smoking, begged us to not smoke. That night, I was a chimney stack.

Along with unhealthy eating and sedentary lifestyle, I’m also giving up smoking. This may end up being a bad idea, making so many changes at once. But I’m going to anyways.

:(( grr…just grr.

the inner child inside me is throwing a full blown temper tantrum complete with feet stomping, butt scooting, pouting, wailing with the extra gnashing of teeth.
……

you see… I’m an Accountant. Numbers mean more than just numbers. They spell out a lot more than what’s in someone’s checking account how how much people can spend in shopping. They spell out responsibility and accountability. You can tell a lot about a person based on their numbers. During this time of the year, I not only work on bookwork, but tax returns. And with those tax returns, sometimes, come a client’s gratuitous hard work in the kitchen.

I’m talking

  • Cookies…
  • Brownies…
  • Cake…. of all kinds…
  • Pies…
  • Custards…
  • Fudge…
  • Honey Glazed Ham

and the one that just walked through my door….

Banana Pudding.

*cries*
I ADORE Banana Pudding. So much so that I’m literally in tears I want it so bad! I’m shocked that I’m having this emotional reaction and I’m doing everything I can to stay away from it…. but wow…
Image

I’m experiencing anger… am I seriously going through coping stages right now?! o.O From what I understand, clients started bringing deserts to the office because we only see most of these wonderful people once a year. So when clients come to sign papers, some who have been clients and personal friends of co-workers for years, bring sweets or the like to help sooth over the stress of tax season. The one who likes to bring Fudge usually brought in a fruit salad ish desert last time, after I mentioned that I was diabetic.

Close… but not quite the point Fudge Lady.

*groans* why banana pudding… 5 days into this stupid diet and she brings banana pudding?! And it’s only like the best tasting banana pudding I’ve ever had.

oh and by the way…. my desk is RIGHT next to the kitchen. I feel like Tantalus in Hell. Best Banana Pudding ever not only walks right past me… but is waiting for me on the table. I can see it even if there’s a solid wall between us. Except my imagined version has a halo, wings, floating on a cloud and there’s cherubs playing harps around it.

I am a sad sad sad puppy. Where is that treadmill when you need one. ~_~

So that’s why….

I think I’m starting to get this dieting thing. I started this mess 5 days (?) ago… and I’m starting to see the battlefield from where I’m at.

5 days ago, I swore to myself and to my mother’s memory, I was going to beat this demon of mine.
5 days ago, I told myself that I’m worth more than chocolate, that I’m worth it to make these sacrifices, these changes to my life. 5 days ago, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

The first couple of days were rocky… two days in a row the launch was aborted due to severe chocolate cravings with guaranteed sightings of Reeses and Hershey’s. But then… like a bad sci-fi movie with its unlikely hero to save the day, the third day I was a diet goddess… I avoided the chocolate bag Kiss of death, narrowly dodged the Fun Dip to Hell and sneaked passed the Sugary Siren Song of my favorite carbs, bread and pasta. I ate a sensible dinner, and by that I mean I was starving! I had no idea how much food I was putting away… or how much I relied on food to get through the day… or how much I think about food!
And then Sunday happened. *sighs*

Sunday, it was like someone snuck into my psyche during the night and left black clouds to greet me the next day… I couldn’t get myself out of bed! I overslept and when I finally dragged myself out of bed it was like I was a Dawn of the Dead zombie, complete with groaning, shuffling and craving seriously for a very particular meal. Its like all the reasons why I’m nice to people goes out the window when you take away all the tasty in my diet. It didn’t help that my calves and ankles were stiff and sore from walking.

So there I am, Cranky Kitty, at 1 pm shuffling out of my bedroom and on my way to my fridge where I KNOW a lava cake from Dominoes is waiting…

Another day about to be doomed with chocolate.

I round the corner where my huge 55 gallon tank and my 10 gallon fish tank sit in the living room and I notice something odd about the pregger guppy I had in the breeder tank… She wasn’t pregnant anymore!
Swimming happily in short quick darts are 16 teeny tiny little fry, just born within the past hour.
Gone are the thoughts of that lava cake…. which is probably nasty crusty by now. I get to work separating the mother guppy from the fry, and my entire day gets refocused into making sure this batch of fry is successful.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still cranky today, but it’s a doable cranky. I educated my roommates and my husband on what I can eat… what I can’t… and what are trigger foods I love love love but just can’t have anymore.
And I find small things that remind me why I’m doing this. This morning for instance… I put on a dress this morning that I recently purchased from ebay. When it arrived, I tried it on and it was just too snug. I could look down and see my belly past my breasts. Considering genetics supplied me with a lot of Boob, that’s saying a lot. It fit but it was a very revealing fit… I looked like a bloated sausage in it. So I put it up along with a small piece of my dignity.
This morning when I got dressed, I reached for it.
I put it on.
I looked down.
I DON’T see my belly past my breasts.
Its not much of a difference… but its there… the belly to Boob ratio may change later today, but right now it’s a comfortable stalemate.
I’m wearing that dress today.
Oh!
I’m on a self imposed food schedule. Thanks to Holly from 300poundsdown.com I’ve started my Victory List.
If anyone reads this and wants to know more….

http://www.300poundsdown.com/2012/04/my-victory-list.html

She inspired me to get started.
I don’t want to go through surgery and with my diabetes that creates risks I’m not comfortable with taking. I’ve had friends who have gone through it and let me tell you, it’s no walk in the park! Its not completely off the table and I respect those brave enough to go through it, but I’m broke and I didn’t have the motivational support to lose weight as I do now.

I’m not looking forward to the mood swings I see coming my way. I don’t like being grumpy to my husband and to my friends. And I HATE how my dieting is affecting everyone else’s diet. But I’m still doing this.
And I’ll “just keep swimming” because I’m worth it.
Because my life is worth it.
When I go see my doctor on June 10th… I want her jaw to drop at how much I’ve changed my life around. Now for the boring diary update…

I’m taking all of my medications
Blood pressure: 126/86
Blood Sugar: 166
and I had my shake this morning before 7:30 am

Just had a Happy…

My day… week…. hasn’t started off well…

Sinus Migraine…
Had to go into work on my weekend off…
woke up at like4 am to work out hubby’s charlie horse in his calves…
Bosco, my puggle, barking at all Hours….
both of my Roommates G (boy roomie) and C (girl roomie) came down with the flu *bleh*

But I still went walking… when we go shopping, we park at a decent distance away. Something I never did, mainly because I’m lazy. When I say Lazy… I make it an Olympic sport. But I’ve not drank a single soda this week and I think? I’m down from size 30 to a size 28.

about a month ago, I got a cute pair of ruffled undies… black ones. I have a slight obsession with wanting cute/sexy underthings. Something I’m going to seriously enjoy once I lose the weight. Well I thought when I got them, they were in my size but when I tried them on, the ruffles looked more like stretched rubber bands.
~__~

soo not flattering. So I put them up, feeling utterly disgusted with myself. I looked like milled sausage in those things. I mean, who am I kidding? On top of that, my derriere is deflated, flat…. depressed looking…. a lot like me. Mom didn’t really pass along those genes when she had me.

So imagine my surprise when I tried them on again today when I see RUFFLES! Not crazy ruffles, the way the roos were intended to have but still, RUFFLES!!! This is sooo much better than a stolen moment with Mr. Goodbar.

oh and wow are my calves sore! When I tighten up my calves…. it feels like I have double charlie horses at the same time.

Now I don’t mind that I have to work on Saturday…. 😀

::edit added:: Oh, almost forgot…was going to add some pictures…. *stares at the screen to figure out how to do that….*

wedding/engagement pics

wedding/engagement pics

When I was still dancing, still a big girl, shown here with my partner in crime Johara. I'm in the back.

When I was still dancing, still a big girl, shown here with my partner in crime Johara. I’m in the back.

Much younger and about 6 sizes smaller when I was still bellydancing.

Much younger and about 6 sizes smaller when I was still bellydancing.

 

 

Just keep Swimming

Last night I ate 4 slices of pizza -_- but I walked 1.5 blocks! so boo hiss yay… I’ll just start over. I’ll keep trying until I get this right.

I’m not going to give up this time.

I’m going to get up, and try again. Until it sticks. My husband saw me break down last night and he saw just how much I want to do this.
I can’t say just how lucky I am to have him beside me, supporting me.

He’s my Dory.

Last Night

Ever lost someone only to have them haunt your dreams?

As bittersweet as those moments are, I wish I had that instead of the dream I experienced. Even in my dreams, mom’s gone. I dreamed I was at my grandparents along with my birth-father, my dad and my grandparents… I saw my dad break down into frustrated tears over finances.

The harsh reality of having a loved one in the hospital is that you take time to be with them, to make them comfortable or help them feel secure in times when they feel the most lost. As noble as it is, finances take a nosedive because while you are at the hospital being where you need to be at their bedside, you aren’t at your job or work.

In my dream, my father just got fired because he was at mom’s side. He couldn’t afford to even feed himself… let alone address the mountain of medical bills mom had while at the hospital. I can’t escape the fact that one of the most stable people in my world is gone.. not even in my dreams.

Thankfully, Dad hasn’t lost his job. They treat him really good and even came to see mom in the ICU to be supportive of Dad. I was able to rely on his strength when I stayed the last two weeks with mom. Somehow, I was able to be the pillar that Dad needed when all I wanted to do was break down in tears and scream in frustration. I feel like I’m going insane. I live my life, day to day, smiling on the outside, getting life back to normal, telling people I’m fine… etc. But inside, and when I’m alone… I weep. I weep with this murky hatred for everyone who says “I’m sorry”… and “if there’s anything I can do…”. While I know the compassion is there and the intention is heart felt, I get these irrational feelings of anger and hostility. Outwardly, I offer a smile as best I can… say thank you and let them go off to feel like they’ve done some great humanitarian service. I don’t want to bother anyone with this insane mess in my head, because while I’m saying “thank you for your kind words”… what I’m screaming inside goes a little like this….

Is there anything you can really do for me? I have a good job… I’m responsible with money… and right now the only thing I need is my mother. Can you do anything about that? Do you have that kind of power? I want my mother dammit… give me my mother back! I need her! I can’t do this without her! Just for one more day….please… just one more day..

and grieving is an entirely different beast if you don’t follow a faith. For me… when someone dies, that’s it… everything that they are… were… stops working. Lights out. Gone. Forever. There’s no promise of a heavenly embrace… no burning furnace. No calming solace of an afterlife or resurrection where I get to be with her again. I wish I believed… now more than ever I wish I believed. I could sleep at night again and maybe I’d cry less often. I asked my husband one day after going to see my mom weaken on a daily basis in the ICU to pinch me. He pinched the fire out of me and I could do is sob, sitting there on the floor mattress of my friend’s house. Losing my mom, in the fashion that it was happening, is my nightmare. And for some people… the suggestion that “you’ll see her one day..” or “she’s in a better place now….” may help them cope with the loss, but for me it’s the opposite. It leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth, and it reminds me all the more how much I’ll miss that brilliant woman.  And I can’t reprimand the well wishers of ye olde faiths… I don’t want to disrespect them or make them think less of me. I haven’t changed at all but somehow, being an atheist changes how someone thinks of you. So if you haven’t guessed, Internet Shadow… I’m still in the proverbial religious closet. And I’m not about to ruin someone else’s faith like an evil child ruining Christmas for another child by whispering niggling doubts about Santa’s existence. I think being able to believe in an afterlife is a beautiful gift. I can’t be the scrooge that steals that away. So I suffer in silence and confront my feelings quietly. At least if someone reads this stupid blog and gets offended at MY lack of spirituality, they can bugger off, and read something more worthy. This isn’t for them. Its for me. 

I admit, this is entirely a selfish endeavor. But what about grief isn’t entirely selfish? You mourn the loss of someone in your life and you dwell on how they effected you. You would give anything to have them back in your life.

I would have given anything to have her back in mine.