Confessions-You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

I am going to share something that is really personal with my (subscribed) readers, I don't want this to appear on my facebook page because I have to associate with those people in real life and I don't want them to know.

All my life, at least since I discovered EA Poe (in second grade!), I have wanted to be a writer;  the kind of writer whose words on paper will make the reader's blood run cold in terror.  I started a new blog for that kind of content.  There will be no witty, carefully structured commentary on popular culture or delightful anecdotes about my personal growth as I strive towards acceptance of my new life as a professional invalid.

I am calling that blog Samples, although I don't know why.  I hope that some of you will take a peek at it, although there isn't much there right now. This is a very personal anecdote I wrote for here, but didn't publish because of the personal nature of it; you may not want to read it.  If you do, it has plenty of warts and I am betting your thoughts would be very constructive.

Until then, this has been stuck in my head since last Thursday's 30 Rock.

Losing a Pet

Olivia, our black cat, got out of the house last night while I was asleep and got into a fight with another animal.  She walked into the house with a slight limp, but seemed fine otherwise.  She was much worse this morning and I carefully put her in her carrier to go to Best Friends Animal Hospital.

If the thunder don't get you, then the lighting will

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my first hospitalization and since anniversaries are significant, I haven't been able to think of little else this weekend.  I have been grieving my old like, my pre-disability life horribly;  I miss bending over to get something out of the cabinets, walking in a straight line, etc.  Lately, when I think about those early days, I am gripped with horror.

Before CIDP,  I lived my life swinging from pollyanna to panic. I spent half of my life telling myself that I would be lucky and escape the tumult and turmoil others had.  When I wasn't telling myself that, I was paranoid, crippled with fear that the opposite would turn be true.

Excessively Moderate

This is Natasha when she was probably 6.
 I have waited  months to get this picture out of storage.

"Moderation in all things, including moderation."
            Petronius

Stressing

My stress test is tomorrow at 7:45.  I kinda think that the end result will be my doctors telling me to eat better and exercise more.  I still feel lazy if there is something I don't get done in a timely fashion.  Leaving things half done never bothered me before I got sick, ask Adrienne.

I am curious to see if I have lost any weight.  More on that later

Weighty Issues

Thanks to David for explaining it is called a Holter, after the person who invented it, not halter, like I thought.

Yesterday I ate 67% of my daily allotment of calories, if I was accurate in recording them.  Basically, I ate whatever I wanted to eat, provided I was willing to record it.  That extra step, the recording, really slows me down.

Further Updates

I dropped off the halter this morning, the n went home to take off the electrodes.  Ouch!  I told the young woman that was putting them on to shave me first and I guess she only half listened.

Oh well, half is better than none.

In other news, I now weigh 272 pounds, about 50 over a healthy weight, according to my doctor.  In order to help lose the weight, I got a calorie counting app for my to help.  I put in my present weight, then my ideal weight and pick a plan on how fast I want to lose the weight (I picked the most gradual), and the program does the rest.  As long as I am honest with my phone about what I eat and don't go over the limit, I should be at my ideal weight in about half a year.

This is going to be hard  because I really don't want to face my food addiction.

As of 10 am, I have eaten 24 % of my daily calories.