All the tests have come back negative: I don't have celiac disease, Crohn's, a build-up of unwelcome bacteria in my gut, or anything else abnormal.
Which means that the discomfort and difficulties that have increased since my surgery are most likely due to a return of inflammatory bowel disease, IBS, whatever you like to call it. I've had it since childhood but mostly had it licked in the last ten years or so, mostly due to my vegetarian diet.
But not anymore. I can literally not stomach beans, cabbage, broccoli, tofu, or many of my usual staples.
And so the GI doctor has put me on a very restricted diet, called FODMAPS, which removes 6 major food carbohydrates from my intake--wheat, dairy, soy, and a whole host of fruits and vegetables (besides all legumes, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, and the like, I can't have any stone fruit, apples, avocados, onions garlic, mushrooms,and a whole host of other odd fruits and veg.) The list is impossible to keep track of without the two long lists taped to my fridge and the new app on my phone (I also got a few new cookbooks, such as they are.) Oddly, I find losing onions and garlic the hardest part so far! I can even get a mocha frappuccino with coconut milk once in awhile.
I'm supposed to follow that for three months and check back with him. It is possible that I can add one or more of the chemicals from the acronym back to my diet, but I doubt I'll get all of them. And I've felt so crummy that I'm not even really upset about it. Sure, it's been a rough two weeks adapting to it, both mentally and physically, and I do miss many of my favorite things--I'm variously resigned, aggravated, overwhelmed, sad, grumpy, willing--but I don't like feeling sick and being indisposed, and there are so many GF and DF substitutes on the market. It is cutting into our eating out, but we have located some places that will work. And I still get tea, coffee, rice, potatoes . . . and, well, lots of meat. The doctor said no vegetarianism for the present--it would be too challenging without the beans, tofu, and nuts I relied on.
And it could be worse.
Mama and the kids are being great about it.
And the kids at least are glad I'm not cooking any beans.
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Friday, June 12, 2015
Blessing the Hands
"Clearing" by Martha Postlewait
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create a clearing
in the dense forest of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Today was our annual hospice volunteer luncheon, which is always a fun and touching event. And I was so excited to go--I made it the whole time!! This is huge because I haven't eaten in a restaurant--in uncomfortable chairs!--since my surgery. And you know how I love eating in different restaurants. I also haven't seen my hospice friends since March either, so it was good to see them. It gets lonely at home by myself.
It was a lovely event, with a special blessing of the hands that the chaplain performed. "May your hands be blessed as you offer compassionate care to those that you touch," she said. Actually, we perform it on each other, saying a blessing or a wish for the person next to us as he or she dips fingers in the basin. "In this work, may you be a comfort to others and, when you are in need, may you be comforted," I said to the person next to me. The person on my other side wished me healing and a full life.
And we ate great food! It's so much nicer not to be a vegetarian at these events--pasta is usually the phoned-in dish. But the rest of it was delicious. (I do feel the pull of vegetarianism strongly, but it will probably just be a larger percentage, not total.) There were also cake pops, as there always are at our gatherings; someone in the office makes them--and I get sent home with extras for the kids!
All the volunteers received nice swag--both volunteer appreciation bags with candy and pens and such, and things with our company logo on it (an insulated lunchbox--last year was a picnic blanket--we are part of a multi-state corporation that provides hospice; they are required by federal law to have a volunteer corps--it's a nice change from non-profits sometimes! We eat better.)--and were recognized for our work. The daughter of a former patient gave a moving speech about how our hospice team helped with her mother's dying. It was a nice addition to hear from a family member, especially since we have no contact with the family after the death (that's the bereavement team.)
I love this work and I really like my team. Today was extra-special because of these last few months. It's nice to be a volunteer again, and not a patient!!!
(Though, thankfully, not anywhere near a hospice patient in March.)
-=-=-=-=-=-
Blessed be the hands that have touched life.
Blessed be the hands that have nurtured creativity.
Blessed be the hands that have held pain.
Blessed be the hands that have embraced with passion.
Blessed be the hands that have closed in anger.
Blessed be the hands that have planted new seeds.
Blessed be the hands that have harvested ripe fields.
Blessed be the hands that have cleaned, washed, and scrubbed.
Blessed be the hands that have become wrinkled with years.
Blessed be the hands that are scarred from doing justice.
Blessed be the hands that have reached out and been received.
Blessed be the hands that feed those who are hungry.
Blessed be the hands that comfort the dying and touch the dead.
Blessed be the hands that greet strangers.
Blessed be the hands that guide the young.
Blessed be the hands that have nurtured creativity.
Blessed be the hands that have held pain.
Blessed be the hands that have embraced with passion.
Blessed be the hands that have closed in anger.
Blessed be the hands that have planted new seeds.
Blessed be the hands that have harvested ripe fields.
Blessed be the hands that have cleaned, washed, and scrubbed.
Blessed be the hands that have become wrinkled with years.
Blessed be the hands that are scarred from doing justice.
Blessed be the hands that have reached out and been received.
Blessed be the hands that feed those who are hungry.
Blessed be the hands that comfort the dying and touch the dead.
Blessed be the hands that greet strangers.
Blessed be the hands that guide the young.
Blessed be these hands.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Not Quite Midsomer
The weather today is only about 62F, with some watery sunshine. Definitely more spring than the unofficial start of summer with Memorial Day this weekend.
And I continue my recovery at home, watching a lot of television. My go-to show right now (since I watched all of season 3 of "Vikings") is "Midsomer Murders," an hour-long British murder mystery series which started in 1997 and is still running! I think I'm on series 8 right now (you know, the BBC series have fewer episodes per season than in the US--10-13 or so each year if you're very lucky--just ask the "Sherlock" fans.) It's gentle and well-done, with gorgeous scenery; each narrative is solved in a single show. Lots of thatched cottages, red brick buildings, half-timbered buildings, huge country houses, old pubs, stone churches with lychgates, and English gardens filling the dozens of towns (like Midsomer Worthy, Midsomer Were, Midsomer whatever!) in fictional Midsomer county (a county with a very high murder rate!) It's filmed around Wallingford, Oxfordshire and many other places. There are a ton of regional accents, which I never can identify. My favorite part is the numerous depictions of British daily life--well, a kind of insular, white, middle class Britain that probably hasn't existed in decades, if ever--I'm not sure there has ever been a person of color in the show yet, much less an immigrant (well, unless from Ireland!) So it's definitely nostalgic and idyllic, with its numerous town fairs and festivals, horse races, regattas, bell ringing competitions, flower shows, etc., even if there is a murder thrown in to muddle things. I recommend it if you liked "Murder, She Wrote" . . . or England, and if "Broadchurch," "The Fall," or "Prime Suspect" are a little too dark for you.
I realized I watch a lot of British shows and was glad to hear that many of them--"Call the Midwife," The Fall," "Broadchurch," "Grantchester," "Vikings," "Mr. Selfridge," and "Doctor Who"--had been renewed. And "Downton Abbey" will end after this series.
I think you could chalk up my Anglophilic wanderlust to these shows (or is it vice versa?), even. We're still planning our vacation for next June, though now we've dropped Scotland (we think the kids need to be older for Scotland) and are focusing on "just" England again. Since Bud is so into Camelot, maybe we'll do Glastonbury. And I've always wanted to see Canterbury. And we'd all do London again. The Lainston in Winchester is a must-return, too, when we see Lambeth and Mrs. Lambeth. Which means we're all over the map! No doubt it will change, too.
Especially if I seek out some of the filming locations of "Midsomer Murders!"
 |
| Stoke Poges |
 |
| Turville |
I realized I watch a lot of British shows and was glad to hear that many of them--"Call the Midwife," The Fall," "Broadchurch," "Grantchester," "Vikings," "Mr. Selfridge," and "Doctor Who"--had been renewed. And "Downton Abbey" will end after this series.
 |
| Beaconsfield |
 |
| Aldbury Pond |
 |
| Amersham |
I think you could chalk up my Anglophilic wanderlust to these shows (or is it vice versa?), even. We're still planning our vacation for next June, though now we've dropped Scotland (we think the kids need to be older for Scotland) and are focusing on "just" England again. Since Bud is so into Camelot, maybe we'll do Glastonbury. And I've always wanted to see Canterbury. And we'd all do London again. The Lainston in Winchester is a must-return, too, when we see Lambeth and Mrs. Lambeth. Which means we're all over the map! No doubt it will change, too.
Especially if I seek out some of the filming locations of "Midsomer Murders!"
Monday, May 18, 2015
Next 48 Hours
I'll be on my own, really on my own, for about 36 hours, starting tomorrow morning when the kids leave for school. Mama is taking them to their grandparents' house in Queens right after school to attend a family memorial for Lao Gong early on Wednesday morning, the 100th day after his death. It's not so much a set ritual, as they will host a Chinese New Year-like meal with prayers--and set an empty chair for him for the first time.
No, I won't be going. It's too much car, too much activity, and I don't want the focus to be on me for this event. Though, I would have been glad to be there for Mama, as no doubt it will be hard. But the children will provide levity and a distraction.
I'll be home, doing what I do--which is mostly watching tv and crocheting. I did manage a run to the store today--and got some light provisions--and picked up a mocha frappuccino, which I dropped trying to enter the house with one too many things in my hands. Double frustration: dropping a drink I had barely put a dent in and then having trouble cleaning it up on my own! (It hit the door frame and bounced between the porch wall and the deck box. Lovely.) I threw down some towels and hoped for the best. But it's just pissy. (Leaning over sometimes puts too much pressure on my incision. Ouch. Especially with the wear and tear of intermittent coughing and sneezing from allergies.)
Otherwise, it was a nice day. Some new skirts arrived and a book of tea treats from a magazine I subscribed to. I caught up on "Outlander" (which was nasty with torture, the penultimate season episode), "Mr. Selfridge," and "Call the Midwife," which included both a deaf woman (and British sign is just that much different than American!) and two closet lesbians (it is 1960 or so after all) separated when one is badly injured in an accident and is brought home by her parents (a bit reminiscent of that part of If These Walls Could Talk 2.) I talked to both Gommie and Lambeth, who were checking up on me.
There's not much to report. I get bored, but I manage. My body is as good as can be expected 7 1/2 weeks out (though my skin on my stomach has called it quits with bandages, even with paper tape.) The cats all keep me company. I like the cool, rainy weather; I did not like Sunday's high near 80F.
Not sure if I'll have anything to blog, though I can tell you about the weekend with Sis's GS fest and Bud and I relaxing . . . later.
No, I won't be going. It's too much car, too much activity, and I don't want the focus to be on me for this event. Though, I would have been glad to be there for Mama, as no doubt it will be hard. But the children will provide levity and a distraction.
I'll be home, doing what I do--which is mostly watching tv and crocheting. I did manage a run to the store today--and got some light provisions--and picked up a mocha frappuccino, which I dropped trying to enter the house with one too many things in my hands. Double frustration: dropping a drink I had barely put a dent in and then having trouble cleaning it up on my own! (It hit the door frame and bounced between the porch wall and the deck box. Lovely.) I threw down some towels and hoped for the best. But it's just pissy. (Leaning over sometimes puts too much pressure on my incision. Ouch. Especially with the wear and tear of intermittent coughing and sneezing from allergies.)
Otherwise, it was a nice day. Some new skirts arrived and a book of tea treats from a magazine I subscribed to. I caught up on "Outlander" (which was nasty with torture, the penultimate season episode), "Mr. Selfridge," and "Call the Midwife," which included both a deaf woman (and British sign is just that much different than American!) and two closet lesbians (it is 1960 or so after all) separated when one is badly injured in an accident and is brought home by her parents (a bit reminiscent of that part of If These Walls Could Talk 2.) I talked to both Gommie and Lambeth, who were checking up on me.
There's not much to report. I get bored, but I manage. My body is as good as can be expected 7 1/2 weeks out (though my skin on my stomach has called it quits with bandages, even with paper tape.) The cats all keep me company. I like the cool, rainy weather; I did not like Sunday's high near 80F.
Not sure if I'll have anything to blog, though I can tell you about the weekend with Sis's GS fest and Bud and I relaxing . . . later.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Yay!
A whole day without painkillers. Woo-hoo!
But I have a cold or allergies or something, hit last night at 2:20 a.m.--sore throat, stuffy nose. Blah.
That's why I didn't need painkillers--I didn't do anything! In fact, I slept the morning away and lounged away the rest o it.
With Mr. P . .. .
But I have a cold or allergies or something, hit last night at 2:20 a.m.--sore throat, stuffy nose. Blah.
That's why I didn't need painkillers--I didn't do anything! In fact, I slept the morning away and lounged away the rest o it.
With Mr. P . .. .
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Boredom
My days are long; my abilities and energies limited--I'm still not driving. I mean, I had been on the cusp of a major new project--seminary--and now not only is that not happening for a year (still the right decision, physically), but I'm not even really doing what I had been (hospice, historic house, GS meetings.) And while I do see friends, I have a lot of free time that weighs rather heavily.
So, being in a list-making mood, I'm coming up with things I can do in the next six weeks that aren't bingeing on Netflix or zoning out on FB or Pinterest, while the kids are in school:
So, being in a list-making mood, I'm coming up with things I can do in the next six weeks that aren't bingeing on Netflix or zoning out on FB or Pinterest, while the kids are in school:
- coffee visits with friends
- crochet more Granny Square blankets
- crochet flowers
- practice knitting
- read current novel
- read through magazines
- blog
- meditate
- work on family photo albums
- work on Mommy Hungry 2015 cookbook
- do family questionnaire which we haven't done in a few years
- meal planning
- Zentangle
- walk
- play piano
- call friends
- brush the cats/visit the basement boys
- sew on Sis's Shirt
- practice ASL
- drink a cup of tea outside
- gentle purging of shelves, cabinets, and drawers (little things like spices and office supplies, not books or heavy things)
- study up on Scotland for our trip
- work on sewing machine skills
- put badges on Sis's GS sash
- send cards to friends
- email "pen pals"
Monday, May 4, 2015
Feeling Better
Things are getting back to my "new" normal. Glad the uncomfortable interlude didn't last longer.
And can I say that hiccups after abdominal surgery SUCK.
Otherwise, it's a quiet week for me. The kids have a strings concert later this week, but that's about it. There are a few other school activities for them but not for me.
So, today I'm catching up on new episodes of "Wolf Hall," "Outlander," "Mr. Selfridge," and "Call the Midwife." Which means a delightful, relaxing day for me.
And can I say that hiccups after abdominal surgery SUCK.
Otherwise, it's a quiet week for me. The kids have a strings concert later this week, but that's about it. There are a few other school activities for them but not for me.
So, today I'm catching up on new episodes of "Wolf Hall," "Outlander," "Mr. Selfridge," and "Call the Midwife." Which means a delightful, relaxing day for me.
Friday, May 1, 2015
All Fours
All four cats have been very attentive, sitting on my lap at almost any chance. The warm purring heaps of fur are very healing.
 |
| Mr. P |
 |
| Mojito (aka Mo-cheetos or Mochi Toes) |
 |
| Albus |
 |
| Hermione, who does it her way and sits near me instead of on me. |
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Cooking Again
I'm cooking again!
Last night, I put together a really wonderful chicken tortellini soup. In fact, because of a happy accident, it was better than I supposed. See, there was frozen homemade stock in the fridge and I used that. But it smelled like bacon. I was worried that it was somehow chicken stock that had gone off, but serendipitously it was smoked ham stock from earlier this year, as Sis reminded me. Mama had been saving it for some homemade Chinese soup, so I feel bad about using it, but it was delicious. The soup turned out to be this bacony, chicken, cheesy tortellini thing with a smattering of kale. Lovely! And completely un-reproduceable unless we buy another fancy smoked ham. Makes my regular chicken tortellini soup (just chicken cooked in broth, plus frozen tortellini and any frozen veg and seasonings you like) seem kinda boring now.
Today, I'm trying my first eMeals recipe. It's similar to one a friend brought recently but made in the slow cooker instead of sauteed on the stove. Sis is especially excited because cheesy or creamy sauces like Alfredo are some of her favorites.
I feel very accomplished.
UPDATE: We really liked this--the kids inhaled it! And there is barely a single serving left. We ate it with pasta.
-=-=-=-=-=-=
Creamy Parmesan Chicken in Slow Cooker
2½ lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1½ Tbsp Montreal chicken seasoning (not sure what this is, so I used seasoned salt, garlic powder, some Italian herbs)
3 green onions, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1 (8-oz) container sour cream
1 cup freshly shredded Parmesan cheese
Pound chicken to an even thickness, and sprinkle with seasoning. Place in a greased 5- to 6-quart slow cooker. Add green onions and garlic; pour in broth. Cover and cook on LOW 7 to 8 hours. Remove chicken from slow cooker, reserving liquid in slow cooker; shred chicken--use half and save half for something else. Whisk sour cream into mixture in slow cooker. Stir in Parmesan and remaining shredded chicken.
emeals
Last night, I put together a really wonderful chicken tortellini soup. In fact, because of a happy accident, it was better than I supposed. See, there was frozen homemade stock in the fridge and I used that. But it smelled like bacon. I was worried that it was somehow chicken stock that had gone off, but serendipitously it was smoked ham stock from earlier this year, as Sis reminded me. Mama had been saving it for some homemade Chinese soup, so I feel bad about using it, but it was delicious. The soup turned out to be this bacony, chicken, cheesy tortellini thing with a smattering of kale. Lovely! And completely un-reproduceable unless we buy another fancy smoked ham. Makes my regular chicken tortellini soup (just chicken cooked in broth, plus frozen tortellini and any frozen veg and seasonings you like) seem kinda boring now.
Today, I'm trying my first eMeals recipe. It's similar to one a friend brought recently but made in the slow cooker instead of sauteed on the stove. Sis is especially excited because cheesy or creamy sauces like Alfredo are some of her favorites.
I feel very accomplished.
UPDATE: We really liked this--the kids inhaled it! And there is barely a single serving left. We ate it with pasta.
-=-=-=-=-=-=
Creamy Parmesan Chicken in Slow Cooker
2½ lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1½ Tbsp Montreal chicken seasoning (not sure what this is, so I used seasoned salt, garlic powder, some Italian herbs)
3 green onions, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1 (8-oz) container sour cream
1 cup freshly shredded Parmesan cheese
Pound chicken to an even thickness, and sprinkle with seasoning. Place in a greased 5- to 6-quart slow cooker. Add green onions and garlic; pour in broth. Cover and cook on LOW 7 to 8 hours. Remove chicken from slow cooker, reserving liquid in slow cooker; shred chicken--use half and save half for something else. Whisk sour cream into mixture in slow cooker. Stir in Parmesan and remaining shredded chicken.
emeals
Monday, April 27, 2015
Our Wonderful Weekend
What a weekend!
I'll have to rest all week! No harm done; feel pretty good, considering the level of activity--nothing a bunch of watching "Wolf Hall" and other things won't fix.
I hadn't been sure about this weekend. With a church banquet to celebrate the buddy program (where adults and kids secretly exchanged treats), a play on Saturday, and the recital on Sunday, it was too much. But I wanted to do it all. Except I was nervous about doing any of it--long car rides, walking a lot, and, of course, playing "Finlandia." So, we narrowed it down. We skipped the banquet on Friday, sending a treat along in our stead, and made arrangements for Saturday and Sunday to be easier. And in the end, it worked really well. I'm so glad it it worked.
Saturday we went to see Camelot, in a touring production in Hartford. I love Camelot. I first saw it, with Gommie, around 1980, with Richard Harris in the lead. It was my favorite musical as a child, at least before Phantom of the Opera came along. I sang it for weeks afterwards and even decorated my room as Guinevere's! I even hid my alarm clock, lamp, and stereo under cloths because, of course, there was no electricity in Camelot. I saw it again in a high school production . . . and then I haven't seen it in 30+ years. (Because I don't like the movie with Vanessa Redgrave.) But I sing the songs weekly and it's still one of my top ten.
So I was so excited to hear it was touring, buying the tickets last fall. And it was pretty good! (Especially considering it was a touring, non-Equity performance.) The actors were credible and strong singers (definitely stronger than those in Joseph), the staging had enough period flare, the costumes were rich, and I love the music--though, they cut my favorite song, "I Loved You Once in Silence." The cast had been pared down so there wasn't the full stage during "Lusty Month of May," but I liked it all. And so did the kids. We even all (mostly) got teary at the rather depressing end. Well worth the journey up. And even though all I did the whole day was sit--in the car, in the theater seat, in the car again--I was tired.
A little bonus: we picked up Tibetan food to take home for dinner!
And then Sunday. Ah Sunday, the recital. The recital I've been practicing for these last four months. I was nervous and then I'd be okay, but at least all of the tiredness of Saturday had left me. And so we went to the place where it would be. I was playing fourth, behind one child and then my two. Bud played "Gigue" and "Forth Eorlingas" (from LOTR) beautifully. And Sis played "Grand Old Flag" and the theme from Star Wars better than ever--sounded wonderful! Then it was my turn. And, well, I never knew my hands could shake so hard. After playing the first few bars just fine, I lost all control of my fingers and hit so many wrong notes. We had practiced everything else, but I didn't know how to calm them down. I barely made it through the piece, even dropping two bars in desperation. It was awful! But I didn't flap my arms or make bad faces (I think I made one, which a friend's husband noticed!) or squeal. And everyone clapped when it was over and I got hugs from the kids. I heard the rest of the marvelous pieces--the children of two other friends played their pieces beautifully and there were so many talented kids whom we've watched over the last few years. A few even played complex pieces by the Piano Guys. And all the while I listened and marveled at their skills and noticed that almost everyone made little mistakes, I thought about my performance. And you know what? It was okay. Better than that, it was wonderful! Not my piece, but that I did it under all these crazy circumstances. And I was the only adult who played. Well, there's always a first time and it's over. Everyone was very gracious afterwards, saying how well I did, and maybe I covered my mistakes better than I thought, though I doubt it--maybe they don't know "Finlandia." Sis presented me with flowers afterwards and I got a medal from the teacher. It was a lovely, lovely day (made even more so with potato chips and Ben & Jerry's afterwards!) But perhaps I'll leave recitals to the young from now on. (Or not, because I could only get better from here!)
We have nothing big on the calendar for several weeks, if any, and so I'll rest, relax, and recuperate, with lovely memories and a real feeling of accomplishment. Definitely adding this to my list of affirmations!
I'll have to rest all week! No harm done; feel pretty good, considering the level of activity--nothing a bunch of watching "Wolf Hall" and other things won't fix.
I hadn't been sure about this weekend. With a church banquet to celebrate the buddy program (where adults and kids secretly exchanged treats), a play on Saturday, and the recital on Sunday, it was too much. But I wanted to do it all. Except I was nervous about doing any of it--long car rides, walking a lot, and, of course, playing "Finlandia." So, we narrowed it down. We skipped the banquet on Friday, sending a treat along in our stead, and made arrangements for Saturday and Sunday to be easier. And in the end, it worked really well. I'm so glad it it worked.
Saturday we went to see Camelot, in a touring production in Hartford. I love Camelot. I first saw it, with Gommie, around 1980, with Richard Harris in the lead. It was my favorite musical as a child, at least before Phantom of the Opera came along. I sang it for weeks afterwards and even decorated my room as Guinevere's! I even hid my alarm clock, lamp, and stereo under cloths because, of course, there was no electricity in Camelot. I saw it again in a high school production . . . and then I haven't seen it in 30+ years. (Because I don't like the movie with Vanessa Redgrave.) But I sing the songs weekly and it's still one of my top ten.
So I was so excited to hear it was touring, buying the tickets last fall. And it was pretty good! (Especially considering it was a touring, non-Equity performance.) The actors were credible and strong singers (definitely stronger than those in Joseph), the staging had enough period flare, the costumes were rich, and I love the music--though, they cut my favorite song, "I Loved You Once in Silence." The cast had been pared down so there wasn't the full stage during "Lusty Month of May," but I liked it all. And so did the kids. We even all (mostly) got teary at the rather depressing end. Well worth the journey up. And even though all I did the whole day was sit--in the car, in the theater seat, in the car again--I was tired.
A little bonus: we picked up Tibetan food to take home for dinner!
And then Sunday. Ah Sunday, the recital. The recital I've been practicing for these last four months. I was nervous and then I'd be okay, but at least all of the tiredness of Saturday had left me. And so we went to the place where it would be. I was playing fourth, behind one child and then my two. Bud played "Gigue" and "Forth Eorlingas" (from LOTR) beautifully. And Sis played "Grand Old Flag" and the theme from Star Wars better than ever--sounded wonderful! Then it was my turn. And, well, I never knew my hands could shake so hard. After playing the first few bars just fine, I lost all control of my fingers and hit so many wrong notes. We had practiced everything else, but I didn't know how to calm them down. I barely made it through the piece, even dropping two bars in desperation. It was awful! But I didn't flap my arms or make bad faces (I think I made one, which a friend's husband noticed!) or squeal. And everyone clapped when it was over and I got hugs from the kids. I heard the rest of the marvelous pieces--the children of two other friends played their pieces beautifully and there were so many talented kids whom we've watched over the last few years. A few even played complex pieces by the Piano Guys. And all the while I listened and marveled at their skills and noticed that almost everyone made little mistakes, I thought about my performance. And you know what? It was okay. Better than that, it was wonderful! Not my piece, but that I did it under all these crazy circumstances. And I was the only adult who played. Well, there's always a first time and it's over. Everyone was very gracious afterwards, saying how well I did, and maybe I covered my mistakes better than I thought, though I doubt it--maybe they don't know "Finlandia." Sis presented me with flowers afterwards and I got a medal from the teacher. It was a lovely, lovely day (made even more so with potato chips and Ben & Jerry's afterwards!) But perhaps I'll leave recitals to the young from now on. (Or not, because I could only get better from here!)
We have nothing big on the calendar for several weeks, if any, and so I'll rest, relax, and recuperate, with lovely memories and a real feeling of accomplishment. Definitely adding this to my list of affirmations!
Thursday, April 23, 2015
New Affirmations
I posted a list of Affirmations I use to buck up my confidence back in March, actually a week before my surgery. I realize I could add several things to it. So, here we go, my recent list of accomplishments:
I can walk.
I can even walk around Target for a little bit.
I can ride in the car for awhile.
I can sit on the couch.
I can take a shower.
I can put on almost all my own clothes (socks are hard and I'm wearing slip-on shoes.)
I can unload the top rack of the dishwasher.
I can wash a few dishes.
I can help pack school lunches.
I can blog.
I can crochet.
I include my older list, with some edits, to keep me going:
I can walk.
I can even walk around Target for a little bit.
I can ride in the car for awhile.
I can sit on the couch.
I can take a shower.
I can put on almost all my own clothes (socks are hard and I'm wearing slip-on shoes.)
I can unload the top rack of the dishwasher.
I can wash a few dishes.
I can help pack school lunches.
I can blog.
I can crochet.
I include my older list, with some edits, to keep me going:
I have not had severely debilitating back pain in almost 4 whole years.
Last Memorial Day 2014 when I had back pain, I still functioned and did things.
My surgery was four weeks ago and I am much better.
I can walk longer and faster than before (well, beforehand.)
I can drive longer than I have in years (I drove the furthest, 25 miles, the day before my emergency!)
I know how to cope with pain.
I know how to cope with fear.
I know there will be pain and fear and I am ready.
I can be calm in a crisis.
I can accept that I am not in control.
I have compassion for myself.
I have the tools I need--meds, heat pack, brace, stretches, rest.
I have great support and understanding in Mama and the kids, my parents and my sister.
I have the time and resources to take it easy.
I've survived and thrived:
- On trips to
- ENGLAND! and Cardiff!
- Girl Scout overnight, on the floor, at Old Sturbridge Village!! (this one gets forgotten because it was three days before my emergency)
- Disney World (even though EPCOT was hard, I got through it)
- Washington DC
- Boston
- Philadelphia
- Houston and environs
- our nano-honeymoon in NYC (and all those stairs at the Merchant House)
- Experiences such as
- sitting at a hospital bedside and visiting for hours.
- lighting a fire and cooking over it.
- going swimming
- taking GS outdoor class Food, Fire, & Fun.
- taking archery and becoming certified as an instructor.
- passing First Aid and CPR--I can give mouth-to-mouth and use an AED.
- riding on parade floats and giving a lecture on costuming in full corseted costume.
- sitting at the piano and play "Finlandia."
- learning ASL
- going on retreat by myself for two nights all alone--including sitting at length, creating art, taking yoga
- winning 4 stars on Just Dance, dancing to "Bang, Bang."
- playing basketball with the kids
- playing water basketball with the kids at the Y
- going to long movies
- going to Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Les Mis, Wicked, Vagina Monologues
- wandering around museums
- eating in restaurants at night
- walking in the snow
- making snow angels
- going canoeing
- I can do (before my surgery . . . and I will again!)
- laundry
- baking
- unloading the dishwasher
- walking on the treadmill
- sitting on the floor with the cats
- taking a real bath
I did all that. I can do what comes next.
A-Ok
Saw my doctor about my bloodclots today--all good on that front. Will take the Xarelto for six months instead of four. Fine. He reassured me about some of the aches I've been having. (Some days I feel like I could become quite the hypochondriac! The days are long; the pangs are sharp sometimes.) He was amazed at how much better I looked, said I was a totally different person.
My surgeon's appointment has been moved to Tuesday, but I'm not worried about anything.
Feeling pretty good, all things considered.
My surgeon's appointment has been moved to Tuesday, but I'm not worried about anything.
Feeling pretty good, all things considered.
Yarn Therapy
Working something for me! It's my favorite Lion Brand yarn, though I don't actually know it's name. I lost the labels years ago (I thought it was Tudor, but it has too much of the whole rainbow in it perhaps; wonder if it is Pacifica or Ocean. ) I had made it into an awkwardly-shaped shawl, which really was going to be a small cat blanket, but I had more yarn than I thought and so it got bigger. I didn't use it though, so I decided to make it into a blanket, not long and thin but more twin-bed shaped. It won't be that big, though. I love the colors, makes me happy just looking at it.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Practicing to Fail
Perhaps I should say "practicing to falter."
I had one of the most interesting piano lessons yesterday. As you know, my very first piano recital is on Sunday. After seven months of lessons, having not been able to read much music or play more than "Good King Wenceslas" (the easy version) when I began in September, I had said I would play at the spring recital alongside all of the kiddos; I've been practicing my piece, "Finlandia," for three months. And then, well, emergency.
I have debated whether I could play since having my surgery. Everyone, family and piano teacher included, is encouraging and understanding--play if you can, don't if you can't, but don't stress about it. I've practiced the transitions where I move my hands so that they are smoother; I've practiced the timing because sometimes my count is just a bit off. I've even practiced in front of people--the kids, Mama, Gommie in-laws, friends--so I get used to playing for others. Some days, I get through my song just fine; other days, I hit so many wrong notes. Pain and narcotics usage definitely has an effect.
So yesterday, my teacher and I practiced how to mess up. No faces, no squeals, no waving my hands in frustration. Play through. Pretend you didn't mess up. Slow down if it's a part that troubles you (or speed up right through it!) If it's an egregious mistake (several wrong notes in a row), start the phrase over. If it's the first few notes, start the whole song over. She says that everyone messes up, that oftentimes only the players notice. It's a very forgiving audience.
And you know what? Recognizing that I knew how to fix a mistake--acknowledging that I was going to make a mistake and should therefore not aim for perfect (which, my teacher called a "crapshoot!")--freed up my playing immensely and I made fewer mistakes! Some of the paralysis left.
So, for now, I'm definitely playing "Finlandia" on Sunday, mistakes and all.
(Because I know people like an update, yesterday was really good. I stayed on top of my pain meds and had a good, useful, relaxing day. I have follow-ups with cardiologist on Thurs and surgeon on Friday. Expecting it all to be fine.)
I had one of the most interesting piano lessons yesterday. As you know, my very first piano recital is on Sunday. After seven months of lessons, having not been able to read much music or play more than "Good King Wenceslas" (the easy version) when I began in September, I had said I would play at the spring recital alongside all of the kiddos; I've been practicing my piece, "Finlandia," for three months. And then, well, emergency.
I have debated whether I could play since having my surgery. Everyone, family and piano teacher included, is encouraging and understanding--play if you can, don't if you can't, but don't stress about it. I've practiced the transitions where I move my hands so that they are smoother; I've practiced the timing because sometimes my count is just a bit off. I've even practiced in front of people--the kids, Mama, Gommie in-laws, friends--so I get used to playing for others. Some days, I get through my song just fine; other days, I hit so many wrong notes. Pain and narcotics usage definitely has an effect.
So yesterday, my teacher and I practiced how to mess up. No faces, no squeals, no waving my hands in frustration. Play through. Pretend you didn't mess up. Slow down if it's a part that troubles you (or speed up right through it!) If it's an egregious mistake (several wrong notes in a row), start the phrase over. If it's the first few notes, start the whole song over. She says that everyone messes up, that oftentimes only the players notice. It's a very forgiving audience.
And you know what? Recognizing that I knew how to fix a mistake--acknowledging that I was going to make a mistake and should therefore not aim for perfect (which, my teacher called a "crapshoot!")--freed up my playing immensely and I made fewer mistakes! Some of the paralysis left.
So, for now, I'm definitely playing "Finlandia" on Sunday, mistakes and all.
(Because I know people like an update, yesterday was really good. I stayed on top of my pain meds and had a good, useful, relaxing day. I have follow-ups with cardiologist on Thurs and surgeon on Friday. Expecting it all to be fine.)
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
A Purring Cat....
....heals all wounds.
My cats have been great company these last weeks. Mojo, in the photo, sits with me in the middle of the day. Hermione visits while I shower--she likes a svitz and even sits in the damp, warmed porcelain tub afterwards. Albus meows constantly and follows me various times of day. And Mr. P welcomes me with motor-like purrs and a warm belly when I venture downstairs.
Who says cats aren't social?
Monday, April 20, 2015
Monday Blues
It's chilly and blustery here, pouring rain, more like New England spring than yesterday's 70F. But we need the rain.
I also think of it as the weather sympathizing with the kids being back in school!
I'm home, my first full day at home alone, though I had practice doing several hours alone already. Fighting some mental boogeymen today. When I start to have normal aches and pains that come and go, I begin to worry that something bad is happening all over again, though I don't meet any of the criteria set forth by the doctor: no vomiting, no nausea, no fever, no pain (meaning persistent or unresponsive to meds), no lack of gas or bowel movement. I'm healing, doing well. Even the infection is drying up. But I still feel relatively mediocre, some days more than others, depending. I think I've been undermedicating. I was trying not to need pain pills--perhaps proof that I was healing--when instead it just overwhelmed me to be uncomfortable. So I'm going to be more diligent about them, to recognize when my body is tired. And, no, Lambeth, I'm not overdoing it. No carrying, just walking, can't bend to pick stuff up, no cleaning, no cooking, no chores. But, even so, it was major surgery and I still hurt sometimes.
It takes some getting used to.
And sometimes, like today, it taps into my deepest fears and anxieties. Then I have to use all my mindfulness training not to fret about an unknown future, to stay in the present . . . . and sometimes I'm better at it than others. Which is why I watch a lot of tv! (Right now, AMC's Revolutionary War show, "Turn.")
"Keep calm and carry on," one breath at a time.
I also think of it as the weather sympathizing with the kids being back in school!
I'm home, my first full day at home alone, though I had practice doing several hours alone already. Fighting some mental boogeymen today. When I start to have normal aches and pains that come and go, I begin to worry that something bad is happening all over again, though I don't meet any of the criteria set forth by the doctor: no vomiting, no nausea, no fever, no pain (meaning persistent or unresponsive to meds), no lack of gas or bowel movement. I'm healing, doing well. Even the infection is drying up. But I still feel relatively mediocre, some days more than others, depending. I think I've been undermedicating. I was trying not to need pain pills--perhaps proof that I was healing--when instead it just overwhelmed me to be uncomfortable. So I'm going to be more diligent about them, to recognize when my body is tired. And, no, Lambeth, I'm not overdoing it. No carrying, just walking, can't bend to pick stuff up, no cleaning, no cooking, no chores. But, even so, it was major surgery and I still hurt sometimes.
It takes some getting used to.
And sometimes, like today, it taps into my deepest fears and anxieties. Then I have to use all my mindfulness training not to fret about an unknown future, to stay in the present . . . . and sometimes I'm better at it than others. Which is why I watch a lot of tv! (Right now, AMC's Revolutionary War show, "Turn.")
"Keep calm and carry on," one breath at a time.
Friday, April 17, 2015
On Her Way, with My Thanks
Gommie is on her way back to Texas this morning. It has been quite a two weeks, from her arrival just days after I got out of the hospital, through Easter and then spring break, and a lot of good and bad days in between.
Almost five years ago, when Gommie and Pop had stayed with us for several weeks after my initial back injury, I wrote a thank-you post about the gift they'd given me. In subsequent thank yous--for their help in April/May 2011 for my second back injury, in August/September 2012 for Mama's surgery and infection--I've referenced that post.
And I'll point to it again because it's true.
But I'll rephrase it.
Being a mom is tough. Watching your kids hurt is hard. Being helpless is so difficult. And my mom willingly waded into all of that when she came up here to help us post-surgery. I'm spoiled by her constant love and support because I never doubted she would come and help; but it has become clearer to me how many people don't have loved ones who will drop everything to help them. And I know how lucky I am. I felt that luck every time she packed a lunch, washed dishes, loaded the dishwasher, did laundry, took out the garbage, entertained the kids, tried to cheer me up or distract me, made a few meals, even fed the cats. She did everything and more that she could do so that Mama could go back to work and not have to do everything on her own, as she had been doing before Gommie arrived. And she did it all in a house that is more cluttered, smaller, and differently-organized that her own, with two grandkids underfoot who wanted her love and attention. And not even a room to call her own, sleeping on a bottom bunk with Sis on the floor next to her, all of us sharing a bathroom upstairs.
And with that all, she watched me grimace in discomfort, heard me make difficult phone calls about clots and insurance and prescriptions, knew that I was tired, in pain, totally grossed out and upset about my incision, and sometimes just grumpy because major emergency surgery sucks. Even last night, just hours before she was leaving, she woke up and saw our light on at 3 am and worried (I was wide awake and very uncomfortable, not pain, just awake and unsettled, and having a major emotional panic. It happens. I'm much better this morning.) She had her own discomfort, too, sometimes, in her knees and back. We laughed as we shuffled along together. 'Cos what else are you going to do?
But with all that going on, we still had lots of fun. There was Scrabble and Sushi Go and Camp games, doodling on tiles and shells, making bubble gum from a kit with Bud, playing American Girl doll salon with Sis, early morning cuddles, late night reading, trying Just Dance moves to "YMCA," Mario Kart hilarity, watching Battle of Five Armies, watching Neil Degrasse Tyson's "Cosmos," scrambled egg breakfasts, watching "Switched at Birth" and "Little House on the Prairie" with Sis, watching Grey Gardens, "Mr. Selfridge" and "Wolf Hall" and "Miss Fisher's Mysteries" with me, going to the rope obstacle course, going to the coastal bird refuge, going to the natural science museum, dyeing Easter eggs and celebrating Easter, building fairy houses, eating hibachi and then frozen yogurt, eating at the fish restaurant. And lots more that I'm forgetting this morning, I'm sure.
So, we send you home to Texas with our love and gratitude for these last two weeks and for being you, Gommie, my mom, who gave me yet another gift, or lesson, in generosity, determination, dedication. In love and motherhood.
Thanks, Mom. I love you.
Almost five years ago, when Gommie and Pop had stayed with us for several weeks after my initial back injury, I wrote a thank-you post about the gift they'd given me. In subsequent thank yous--for their help in April/May 2011 for my second back injury, in August/September 2012 for Mama's surgery and infection--I've referenced that post.
And I'll point to it again because it's true.
But I'll rephrase it.
Being a mom is tough. Watching your kids hurt is hard. Being helpless is so difficult. And my mom willingly waded into all of that when she came up here to help us post-surgery. I'm spoiled by her constant love and support because I never doubted she would come and help; but it has become clearer to me how many people don't have loved ones who will drop everything to help them. And I know how lucky I am. I felt that luck every time she packed a lunch, washed dishes, loaded the dishwasher, did laundry, took out the garbage, entertained the kids, tried to cheer me up or distract me, made a few meals, even fed the cats. She did everything and more that she could do so that Mama could go back to work and not have to do everything on her own, as she had been doing before Gommie arrived. And she did it all in a house that is more cluttered, smaller, and differently-organized that her own, with two grandkids underfoot who wanted her love and attention. And not even a room to call her own, sleeping on a bottom bunk with Sis on the floor next to her, all of us sharing a bathroom upstairs.
And with that all, she watched me grimace in discomfort, heard me make difficult phone calls about clots and insurance and prescriptions, knew that I was tired, in pain, totally grossed out and upset about my incision, and sometimes just grumpy because major emergency surgery sucks. Even last night, just hours before she was leaving, she woke up and saw our light on at 3 am and worried (I was wide awake and very uncomfortable, not pain, just awake and unsettled, and having a major emotional panic. It happens. I'm much better this morning.) She had her own discomfort, too, sometimes, in her knees and back. We laughed as we shuffled along together. 'Cos what else are you going to do?
But with all that going on, we still had lots of fun. There was Scrabble and Sushi Go and Camp games, doodling on tiles and shells, making bubble gum from a kit with Bud, playing American Girl doll salon with Sis, early morning cuddles, late night reading, trying Just Dance moves to "YMCA," Mario Kart hilarity, watching Battle of Five Armies, watching Neil Degrasse Tyson's "Cosmos," scrambled egg breakfasts, watching "Switched at Birth" and "Little House on the Prairie" with Sis, watching Grey Gardens, "Mr. Selfridge" and "Wolf Hall" and "Miss Fisher's Mysteries" with me, going to the rope obstacle course, going to the coastal bird refuge, going to the natural science museum, dyeing Easter eggs and celebrating Easter, building fairy houses, eating hibachi and then frozen yogurt, eating at the fish restaurant. And lots more that I'm forgetting this morning, I'm sure.
So, we send you home to Texas with our love and gratitude for these last two weeks and for being you, Gommie, my mom, who gave me yet another gift, or lesson, in generosity, determination, dedication. In love and motherhood.
Thanks, Mom. I love you.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
The Further Adventures of Gommie and the Kids
Today, the last full day that Gommie is with us, she took the kiddos to a coastal preserve, to walk the shore and see some birds. Sis took her birdwatcher's book and Gommie took our binoculars. They saw osprey and piping plovers, neither of which Sis had on her lifetime list. On a down note, the staff said they'd seen the snowy owl a week or so ago--I'd given up at least a month before that. Oh, well, hopefully next year. Besides, I saw the real Hedwig, which has to count for something.
And then they all went to hibachi! Yum! The kids love "herbachi," as they used to call it and got their usual favorites--chicken with noodles and fried rice for Sis, shrimp with noodles and fried rice for Bud. They picked up frozen yogurt on the way home and brought me a bowl--I love it with almonds, coconut, and raspberries (though, the tart plain which I usually love is non-fat at this place, new to me, and was pretty disgusting. Oh, well, the toppings made up for it some.)
It was such a busy day that they only had time to drop off my yogurt before heading to haircuts, which they desperately needed. Though, now they look like newly shorn spring sheep. Sis looks much younger than her age for now and Bud looks more his age and no longer looks like a tween with floppy Bieber hair.
Gommie got a well-deserved break (though, she spent it doing laundry and packing) while the kids played zombie attack in the yard for hours.
And so ends our last full day with Gommie. Always bittersweet.
And then they all went to hibachi! Yum! The kids love "herbachi," as they used to call it and got their usual favorites--chicken with noodles and fried rice for Sis, shrimp with noodles and fried rice for Bud. They picked up frozen yogurt on the way home and brought me a bowl--I love it with almonds, coconut, and raspberries (though, the tart plain which I usually love is non-fat at this place, new to me, and was pretty disgusting. Oh, well, the toppings made up for it some.)
It was such a busy day that they only had time to drop off my yogurt before heading to haircuts, which they desperately needed. Though, now they look like newly shorn spring sheep. Sis looks much younger than her age for now and Bud looks more his age and no longer looks like a tween with floppy Bieber hair.
Gommie got a well-deserved break (though, she spent it doing laundry and packing) while the kids played zombie attack in the yard for hours.
And so ends our last full day with Gommie. Always bittersweet.
Treetop Adventures
Yesterday, Gommie took the kids to a rope course, which they'd been to on a GS family outing before. They were so excited to try it again. Gommie watched from below as they climbed, zipped, balanced, and navigated all the clips and tweezles, etc., sticking together as a team the whole time. It was a beautiful day, with lots of sunshine and a stiff breeze, and Gommie enjoyed both watching and enjoying the outdoors.
Meanwhile, I stayed home alone and watched "The Fall," with Gillian Anderson sporting her British accent (she is bi-dialectal, having lived in both London and the midwest US as a child.) And then I walked to the local deli down the street--just about half a city block--to get my lunch. All. By. Myself. So excited, so proud. Best. Lunch. Ever. So a pretty good day for us all.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Still Doing Well
I'm doing pretty well. Another good day yesterday and a full night's sleep. A rough bit at bedtime--I'm still redefining bland, non-gassy food--but walking and gingerale helped.
It's a beautiful day and I'll get lots of nice, short walks in. The kids are off doing another fun thing with Gommie. Yesterday, they went to a Samurai exhibit at the science museum, even wrote "sword" in Japanese kanji. But, I heard more about the gift shop! Bud got Gommie a little purple "amethyst" geode. Sis got some quartz and some little plastic animals. And then they had lunch at the fish place.
We're so glad Gommie can be here to help the kids have a fun and relaxing spring break (because I'm pretty boring!)
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