I've been a bit of an emotional logjam, lately. This morning, as I was finishing my 6.4 mile run, my sister called to chat. She asked me how I'm doing with dad being here and told me that she is worried about me. I burst out crying. It's just a lot, all at once. I'm so grateful I have running, riding and swimming to assist with fighting back some of the more overwhelming
Feelings.
JE is working solid 12-16 hour days for the next two weeks, including weekends. There is talk that his company could be sending him out of the country for a couple weeks for work (those of you who don't know my JE, don't be suspicious of him. He is true and pure and loyal). I'm dying to go with him, if he gets to go. But what about dad?
I keep thinking about that 8 year old me, listening to the radio giving away vacations and wanting for my family to be able to go on a vacation. But even at that age, I knew I'd have to come back to the destitute situation of my family.
Even so, I sneak time away. My runs are getting longer, allowing me to escape for an hour or two, just to be on my own; with my only care: my breath. And sometimes, late at night, I run with JE. And other times, dad goes to the family history center.
I love having my father here, I love his intelligence, kindness and laugh. He is a sweet person and helpful when he can be. He has learned so much about how to take care of himself lately; from his glucose and exercise, to brushing his hair, putting on clean clothes and taking pride in the way he looks before he goes out. I don't really know how to explain who my parents are/were: they lived together for 44 years and didn't really pay much attention to what was happening around them. Dad lived under a tyrannical and abusive rule for most of those years, so right now he is learning how to be a person again. I think it's very difficult for him to be alone, even to go to the grocery store. I've been trying to encourage him to get at least one meal for himself each day, but I have to be so careful because some days he just does not eat. He spoke about his hoarding problem today, he owned that he hoarded and never wanted to do that again.
Tonight, halloweeners came to the door and got a scare. Outside the door, Dad sat perfectly still holding a big bowl of candy. As kids came into range, dad surprised them. I listened from the balcony as one boy told his friend, "you go first, don't be such a baby!" But neither of them would get anywhere near dad. So funny!
My bread is getting better, JE is earning extra dough, dad's blood sugar is stable--it has been in a normal range for a while, I'm caught up in my class, and suddenly have 4 people calling me for work (just small jobs). There is a bitter sweetness in my life, a full mouth feel, a richness. Umami.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Carbs
My kitchen has become a laboratory for bread baking.Today I baked a beautiful fluffy cracked wheat sandwich loaf. A while ago, I received Rose Levy Beranbaum's "the Bread Bible," as a gift. I confess that it sat unused since that time. But it's now on my nightstand, open to a page about biscuits. As with Joy of Cooking, there is a lot of useful information. This book, however, is far more scientific in it's approach. Rose is the sort of baker who does not sacrifice taste for health benefits, so wading though the vast amounts of information to find the details I need, is a worthwhile but lengthy process. Using what knowledge I have of baking, I know that I can substitute up to half the white flour with whole-wheat. But until today, I'd not been able to get a fluffy, moist, satisfying wholewheat bread. Thanks to rose and her OCD, I've learned a few tricks in regards to bread making. Namely: sponge starters, autolyse, three risings and vital wheat gluten (1 tsp per cup of wholewheat flour--my recipe).
Since dad arrived, and my no-sugar pledge was installed, I've been plotting a way to make really tasty treats, using natural sugars-as unrefined as I can get them (think dates pulverized with the pumpkin as a sweetener in quick breads).
Several years ago, I went with no sugar for about ten months, only using honey, maple syrup, and date sugar very sparingly. At the time, I did a lot of experimenting, and now I lament that I did not keep a record. Admittedly some of my recipes were pretty desperate, utilizing what was on hand to concoct some pretty atrocious sweets. But there were a few things that remain true, and generally those are the least tampered with:
Frozen banana, drizzled with a tiny bit of dark dark chocolate and pressed with toasted pecans.
Fruit, particularly grapefruit.
Dates, medjool. One or two at a time
Milk, 2%
Dark dark chocolate
Things I'd like to experiment and find a more suitable low glycemic index alternative: pumpkin pie, banana bread, pumpkin bread, carrot cake (for dad's upcoming birthday), frozen yogurt. What seems odd, is that, while I'd like to do some experimenting with this and perfect some recipes, I have not really missed sweets. Well, once I got over those nasty little cravings...
With my increase in distance, I've been craving carbs. But with dad around, who struggles with portions, it would be a cruel punishment to know that somewhere in the house, someone is eating his favorite meal--noodles. So, the past couple days, I wait for him to leave and then pour myself a bowl of cereal. I'll say this, I got my will power from somewhere, and I'm coming to understand that it is from him. He has set his mind to loose weight by eating right and exercising, and he is doing it. I had a celebration today when dad told me that his blood sugars were at 90, right in midrange for him. This is the second straight day of in range blood sugars. When dad reaches for a snack, he now reaches for nuts, turkey and cheese with rye crackers, or celery with a french onion yogurt dip I made for him. He has learned to avoid the high carb/sugar snacks he used to rely on.
JE has been working so much lately, I asked if we could run together on his dinner break. For four straight miles, we chatted and talked. It was so nice to be with him as the sun was setting.
He laughed pretty hard when I told him about what I want to do for our Halloween handouts. I'd like to take a photo of my dad's foot, he is missing his big toe and his nails are black. On the photo, I want to put the words: this is what happens if you eat too much candy! Ok, I know I'm starting to sound as crazy about this subject as Rose Levy sounds about her baking, and she sounds like a real nut job! So...
Swam today, also. I think my flip turns are doing me in. I'm often very dizzy and have a hard time completing my mile. Today was just 1,300 yards.
Since dad arrived, and my no-sugar pledge was installed, I've been plotting a way to make really tasty treats, using natural sugars-as unrefined as I can get them (think dates pulverized with the pumpkin as a sweetener in quick breads).
Several years ago, I went with no sugar for about ten months, only using honey, maple syrup, and date sugar very sparingly. At the time, I did a lot of experimenting, and now I lament that I did not keep a record. Admittedly some of my recipes were pretty desperate, utilizing what was on hand to concoct some pretty atrocious sweets. But there were a few things that remain true, and generally those are the least tampered with:
Frozen banana, drizzled with a tiny bit of dark dark chocolate and pressed with toasted pecans.
Fruit, particularly grapefruit.
Dates, medjool. One or two at a time
Milk, 2%
Dark dark chocolate
Things I'd like to experiment and find a more suitable low glycemic index alternative: pumpkin pie, banana bread, pumpkin bread, carrot cake (for dad's upcoming birthday), frozen yogurt. What seems odd, is that, while I'd like to do some experimenting with this and perfect some recipes, I have not really missed sweets. Well, once I got over those nasty little cravings...
With my increase in distance, I've been craving carbs. But with dad around, who struggles with portions, it would be a cruel punishment to know that somewhere in the house, someone is eating his favorite meal--noodles. So, the past couple days, I wait for him to leave and then pour myself a bowl of cereal. I'll say this, I got my will power from somewhere, and I'm coming to understand that it is from him. He has set his mind to loose weight by eating right and exercising, and he is doing it. I had a celebration today when dad told me that his blood sugars were at 90, right in midrange for him. This is the second straight day of in range blood sugars. When dad reaches for a snack, he now reaches for nuts, turkey and cheese with rye crackers, or celery with a french onion yogurt dip I made for him. He has learned to avoid the high carb/sugar snacks he used to rely on.
JE has been working so much lately, I asked if we could run together on his dinner break. For four straight miles, we chatted and talked. It was so nice to be with him as the sun was setting.
He laughed pretty hard when I told him about what I want to do for our Halloween handouts. I'd like to take a photo of my dad's foot, he is missing his big toe and his nails are black. On the photo, I want to put the words: this is what happens if you eat too much candy! Ok, I know I'm starting to sound as crazy about this subject as Rose Levy sounds about her baking, and she sounds like a real nut job! So...
Swam today, also. I think my flip turns are doing me in. I'm often very dizzy and have a hard time completing my mile. Today was just 1,300 yards.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Butts
Having my father around is a big reminder of the heritage of genes. When I trail behind my dad, as he goes up the stairs, my eyes take in that thing I want the least to see--ok, maybe the second thing I want least to see--his butt. My father is wide through the lower extremities, his belly is full and round, his shoulders almost slope. But, when I see his butt, it reminds me of the male equivalent of my butt: long and full. I used to hate my butt. But, last night I read an article in Runners World about our prehistoric ancestors chasing prey for huge long distances, upheld in part by their enormous butt muscles. It was grounds to change may attitude about my butt. This morning, I put that bit of knowledge to the test and ran 6.4 miles. I felt strong and unwinded as I finished my run, I ran almost the entire way, taking two 30 second walking breaks. This is a big jump,in distance, as I've only been running 4 milers for the past couple months.
Better today, no unleashing of temper tantrums and cuss words. Peace reigns in the city again.
Better today, no unleashing of temper tantrums and cuss words. Peace reigns in the city again.
Agro
I do not deserve the faith nor praise I keep hearing from people right now. This past week has caught up with me and I feel extremely overwhelmed. My tempest broke again today, when I ran into the kitchen to pull our burnt breakfast off the stove. Dad sat in a chair ten feet from the stove, JE sat across the room preparing his lesson for church. I ran in, wondered aloud (very loud) that I seemed to be the only one able to do anything about the smoke which filled the house. I had been in the bedroom getting ready for church, big mistake. I haven't been a yeller since I left home, but all of a sudden, there it came. My character is in question here. Yelling, fine. If that had been where I left it. But door slamming followed, then worse still: I started "sorting" the closet (dejunking is a great de-stressor for me) jerking the hangers off the rack. Clothes hit the floor and seemed to explode; there were coat hangers and shirts everywhere. I had accidentally pulled down the upper closet bar. Grrrr...
This past week has been incredibly trying. JE's mom was supposed to come last Thursday, so much of my week was spent in anticipation of giving up my sewing room or my bedroom to her. Then Gram asked dad down to spend the weekend to open up bed-space at my house. On Thursday, just as I was getting ready to send dad off, we called Gram to let her know he was running a bit late. When she learned that he was driving himself down, and not having me drive him down, she panicked and told him not to come. Freak out number one on my part: I took to bed and played words with friends with Cori, who was miraculously online. Dad took off and went to the family history center. I called JE to let him know the new circumstances. Cori and I chatted, and she finally got me to a point that I was excited about mom coming and feeling like a break from my sewing room would do all of us good.
JE called his Mom to see if she needed a ride from the airport. She was waiting to board her flight, but told JE that she wasn't really feeling well and that she was thinking about not coming. She called Meri and got a ride home from the airport.
Someday soon, I'll just go put on my runners and take off for a power agro-run. Let all this frustration flow into something I know what to do with. Of course, right now, I'm just grasping for anything that resembles my old life, when I didn't have this intense new reality of someone really really relying on me and my decisions. Will I ever be able to look at food the same way again?
Friends came over to help quell my storm. Debbie, my friend who is a nurse dealing with diabetic kids, was among them. She brought a book used in her field. My hope is that it is simple enough to not overwhelm dad. He gets a vacant expression every time I talk about balancing carbs and insulin and claims that his body is different. No, dad. Not that different. Part of all of this is helping him to understand what a normal blood sugar range looks and feels like, without badgering. I'm afraid I feel like nothing more than a badger at times.
Still training, and doing a bit of research for another event.
Did you know there is a marathon in Antarctica?
This past week has been incredibly trying. JE's mom was supposed to come last Thursday, so much of my week was spent in anticipation of giving up my sewing room or my bedroom to her. Then Gram asked dad down to spend the weekend to open up bed-space at my house. On Thursday, just as I was getting ready to send dad off, we called Gram to let her know he was running a bit late. When she learned that he was driving himself down, and not having me drive him down, she panicked and told him not to come. Freak out number one on my part: I took to bed and played words with friends with Cori, who was miraculously online. Dad took off and went to the family history center. I called JE to let him know the new circumstances. Cori and I chatted, and she finally got me to a point that I was excited about mom coming and feeling like a break from my sewing room would do all of us good.
JE called his Mom to see if she needed a ride from the airport. She was waiting to board her flight, but told JE that she wasn't really feeling well and that she was thinking about not coming. She called Meri and got a ride home from the airport.
Someday soon, I'll just go put on my runners and take off for a power agro-run. Let all this frustration flow into something I know what to do with. Of course, right now, I'm just grasping for anything that resembles my old life, when I didn't have this intense new reality of someone really really relying on me and my decisions. Will I ever be able to look at food the same way again?
Friends came over to help quell my storm. Debbie, my friend who is a nurse dealing with diabetic kids, was among them. She brought a book used in her field. My hope is that it is simple enough to not overwhelm dad. He gets a vacant expression every time I talk about balancing carbs and insulin and claims that his body is different. No, dad. Not that different. Part of all of this is helping him to understand what a normal blood sugar range looks and feels like, without badgering. I'm afraid I feel like nothing more than a badger at times.
Still training, and doing a bit of research for another event.
Did you know there is a marathon in Antarctica?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Flip Turns
Back and forth across the Poole, I swim. The sun causing refractions of light through the water. It is beautiful, the way it sparkles against the white floor. At either end, I duck below the surface, summersault so that my feet hit the wall, and kick off, propelling myself back in the direction I just came. For a solid year, I rarely did a flip turn. It was more important to not allow myself the luxury of propulsion, figuring in an open water swim, I'd be hard pressed to find a wall. But now, with no race pending, I flip turn at each time I approach a wall. Just like with all the other elements I've learned over the past year, it took some getting used to. And practice. Now, I can't imagine having wasted so much time, dawdling at each wall. With the flip turns I get in and get it done, maintain my rhythm, and learn to balance my breath.
Dad paces back and forth in the pool. He has gained strength and some agility. Somedays he can stand without his full weight pushing on the arms of the chair or table. His blood sugars are beginning to balance out, his highs are nowhere near the highs of when he first arrived and he is able to navigate them a little easier. We have both mostly stuck to our no sugar pledge.
There is a new and tricky thing that I have discovered about my father. He loves a good story as much as I do. So, the other day, I put on an audio book from the library and invited him into my sewing room. He sat with me for hours, listening while I worked. At one point, I turned to say something to him, he held his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet and mouthed the words, "I'm listening." I was able to get caught up in my class and begin another project (namely a dressing robe so dad can cover himself when he goes to the loo. Will he use it? Perhaps). When JE got home around 10:30 from work, both dad and I were so invested in the story (Catching Fire), we hardly notices. I wandered into the bedroom a couple hours later to discover JE asleep, his ears covered with a pillow.
Sewed today, for JE. There is a really great toile print of 18th century people doing very the century things. On closer inspection, the people are fleshless skeletons. I used this print to make a cabana style shirt for JE, and used antique bone buttons with extremely large eyes as the closures. It's kind of awesome. I'v been sewing so much the past week. I'm not sure what has possessed me, but it feels good. I've also been really active, running, biking and swimming. I haven't missed a workout, but don't feel the need to put it all down on paper. I've been allowing my new circumstances take precedence over a steadfast plan. It is a needful alteration, but one that I'm hoping won't become permanent, it's nice to have a plan, a wall to kick off...
Gratitudes:
1) music, for when the story runs out and the next book isn't available yet.
2) good stories
3) the increase of Monarch butterflies I've seen lately. I need to go see where they sleep.
4) heavy, moist fog
5) dad got a great old car today, and drove himself to the family history center. No need to call for directions, he got it on the first try- home again too!
6) all the times I get to see JE, and how much I miss him when he has so much work.
Dad paces back and forth in the pool. He has gained strength and some agility. Somedays he can stand without his full weight pushing on the arms of the chair or table. His blood sugars are beginning to balance out, his highs are nowhere near the highs of when he first arrived and he is able to navigate them a little easier. We have both mostly stuck to our no sugar pledge.
There is a new and tricky thing that I have discovered about my father. He loves a good story as much as I do. So, the other day, I put on an audio book from the library and invited him into my sewing room. He sat with me for hours, listening while I worked. At one point, I turned to say something to him, he held his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet and mouthed the words, "I'm listening." I was able to get caught up in my class and begin another project (namely a dressing robe so dad can cover himself when he goes to the loo. Will he use it? Perhaps). When JE got home around 10:30 from work, both dad and I were so invested in the story (Catching Fire), we hardly notices. I wandered into the bedroom a couple hours later to discover JE asleep, his ears covered with a pillow.
Sewed today, for JE. There is a really great toile print of 18th century people doing very the century things. On closer inspection, the people are fleshless skeletons. I used this print to make a cabana style shirt for JE, and used antique bone buttons with extremely large eyes as the closures. It's kind of awesome. I'v been sewing so much the past week. I'm not sure what has possessed me, but it feels good. I've also been really active, running, biking and swimming. I haven't missed a workout, but don't feel the need to put it all down on paper. I've been allowing my new circumstances take precedence over a steadfast plan. It is a needful alteration, but one that I'm hoping won't become permanent, it's nice to have a plan, a wall to kick off...
Gratitudes:
1) music, for when the story runs out and the next book isn't available yet.
2) good stories
3) the increase of Monarch butterflies I've seen lately. I need to go see where they sleep.
4) heavy, moist fog
5) dad got a great old car today, and drove himself to the family history center. No need to call for directions, he got it on the first try- home again too!
6) all the times I get to see JE, and how much I miss him when he has so much work.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Spilled Milk
It was the kind of morning when the milk fell out of the fridge, dousing both feet in the process. I slid to the sink, lifted one foot and then the other into the running water. The floor wasn't so easily taken care of.
Running this morning was great, until I was struck with a pain in my gut and needed a restroom fast. We still had a half miles to go to get home. Good grief. My outlet ran out.
Dad had a hard time getting out the door this morning. He loves going to the family history center at my church, but this morning had me take him to a new, bigger location. Having never been there before, I mapped it and even then, got lost. Wrong address... It's nice to have this as a means of entertainment for him. He loves it, I love that I get a little free time. Play school for geriatrics.
My friend Tiffany and I met at Breaking Dawn for brunch. It was great to be there, so so great. Good good skillet...
I love having dad around, but dad is a constant. The other night, I tried to get some of my sewing in for my class. There was a set of instructions I was trying to make out, and having little luck with. Dad came in to keep me company, which meant chatting. I put my things away and chatted. I'm so far behind in my class.
So tonight, when I got to the pool, I decided I would and could be entirely selfish. Swim a mile, no matter if JE and dad were ready to go after the first twenty minutes. Dad did his workout, walking the width of the pool, forward and back along the tiled line dividing the shallow and deep areas of the pool. I swam laps.
JE counted the times dad and I nearly collided: five times. But I did it. My mile. The last six yards were killer. My energy ran out, and left me walking the last half lap. It's been too long since I've done that. I just need to maintain. In the beginning of my swim, I had a really discouraging thought about going nowhere with my training. I looked up and saw my father's slow moving frame and realized that I am running away from that kind of destiny. Diabetes sucks. Just keep swimming.
Punched in the gut feeling every time I think I should call mom.
Running this morning was great, until I was struck with a pain in my gut and needed a restroom fast. We still had a half miles to go to get home. Good grief. My outlet ran out.
Dad had a hard time getting out the door this morning. He loves going to the family history center at my church, but this morning had me take him to a new, bigger location. Having never been there before, I mapped it and even then, got lost. Wrong address... It's nice to have this as a means of entertainment for him. He loves it, I love that I get a little free time. Play school for geriatrics.
My friend Tiffany and I met at Breaking Dawn for brunch. It was great to be there, so so great. Good good skillet...
I love having dad around, but dad is a constant. The other night, I tried to get some of my sewing in for my class. There was a set of instructions I was trying to make out, and having little luck with. Dad came in to keep me company, which meant chatting. I put my things away and chatted. I'm so far behind in my class.
So tonight, when I got to the pool, I decided I would and could be entirely selfish. Swim a mile, no matter if JE and dad were ready to go after the first twenty minutes. Dad did his workout, walking the width of the pool, forward and back along the tiled line dividing the shallow and deep areas of the pool. I swam laps.
JE counted the times dad and I nearly collided: five times. But I did it. My mile. The last six yards were killer. My energy ran out, and left me walking the last half lap. It's been too long since I've done that. I just need to maintain. In the beginning of my swim, I had a really discouraging thought about going nowhere with my training. I looked up and saw my father's slow moving frame and realized that I am running away from that kind of destiny. Diabetes sucks. Just keep swimming.
Punched in the gut feeling every time I think I should call mom.
Monday, October 10, 2011
20.8 miles on my trusty bike this morning. It feels good to move like that, and get lost in the scenery. Lots if migrating birds passing through the back bay, accompanied by lots of watchers of migrating birds.
This Arvo I made bread with dad, showing him the steps to add the ingredients. He then kneaded the dough for about ten minutes, not an easy thing for him, but he got some exercise. Spoke with his diabetes councilor who hopes with some help and weightloss, dad can stop using insulin. She also thinks he shouldn't be alone.
This Arvo I made bread with dad, showing him the steps to add the ingredients. He then kneaded the dough for about ten minutes, not an easy thing for him, but he got some exercise. Spoke with his diabetes councilor who hopes with some help and weightloss, dad can stop using insulin. She also thinks he shouldn't be alone.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Tabula Roso
The are things I'm learning about my father that I had no idea of in my previous life with him. Number one: he is a night owl. Number two: he likes to stay up late, chatting. It's really fun and nice to have him here, but at some point, I need my shut down time. I need to be able to put this well of thoughts onto paper--so to speak. It helps me feel that my life has some sort of organization and process.
Starting in the middle of something has always been difficult for me. When faced with an ugly alteration, I'd so much rather begin fresh and new. But fathers don't come fresh or new. As I try to learn as much as I can about how to help him manage this disease, I am faced with the reality that it is his disease. There are certain elements that he claims he has never heard before; like the link to kidney disease or balancing carbs, fats and proteins to achieve a blood glucose level below 200, or a sliding scale for an insulin dosage. But it is tough for me to believe that in all the time he has been dealing with this problem he hasn't heard of these things. I'll call his doctor Monday and find out a few things about her plan for him and how I can help.
We spend a good portion of the day at Crystal Cove watching dolphins swim around the newly placed lobster traps. Dad went into the water, cold though it was. As he was coming out, the surf swelled. He dove under the first big wave and began to make his way back out. He is a slow moving person. With his back to the oncoming swells, he had no idea that a wave twice as tall as he was about to knock him over. It pummeled him. He used the surf to get back to shore, but once he was in the shallows he couldn't stand on his own. He was elbow deep in water, but laughed when the first thing I did was pull up the back of his pants when JE and I went to his rescue. We got him to his feet again. Poor guy! Not much worse for wear, but he laughed about it all afternoon.
I have this ideal about what my diet should look like: lean proteins, whole grains, no sugary sweets, loads of fresh vegetables. Most of the time I think I do fairly well with this. But this week with dad here, has opened my eyes to the truth. Anything I eat, he will eat; so I have had to get strategic with my food. There are a lot of little things I do that he cannot, and perhaps I should not if I wish to maintain my current state of health. My peanut butter and honey on multigrain bread for my mid afternoon snack isn't ok for dad, not when he tells me his blood glucose is 280!
I just can't figure out how to help him get a grasp on what normal blood glucose should feel like.
JE and I ran tonight, 4 miles. The first two were fine. The last two I ran from bridge to bridge, allowing myself to feel scared at the thought of loosing toes, feet, feeling, eyesight because of diabetes. Today is a week without sugar--there are some very powerful inspirations to help me with that one.
Gratitudes:
1) my toes, all ten. Even though they give me grief sometimes.
2) my sweet pancreas.
3) a sweet spouse who sits up and talks with dad while I escape to write
4) an ever positive father
5) books, the internet, and the expertise of so many who have shared how to handle this disease
6) wise words from JE tonight: set little goals, just like when we were training for races
I can do that...
Starting in the middle of something has always been difficult for me. When faced with an ugly alteration, I'd so much rather begin fresh and new. But fathers don't come fresh or new. As I try to learn as much as I can about how to help him manage this disease, I am faced with the reality that it is his disease. There are certain elements that he claims he has never heard before; like the link to kidney disease or balancing carbs, fats and proteins to achieve a blood glucose level below 200, or a sliding scale for an insulin dosage. But it is tough for me to believe that in all the time he has been dealing with this problem he hasn't heard of these things. I'll call his doctor Monday and find out a few things about her plan for him and how I can help.
We spend a good portion of the day at Crystal Cove watching dolphins swim around the newly placed lobster traps. Dad went into the water, cold though it was. As he was coming out, the surf swelled. He dove under the first big wave and began to make his way back out. He is a slow moving person. With his back to the oncoming swells, he had no idea that a wave twice as tall as he was about to knock him over. It pummeled him. He used the surf to get back to shore, but once he was in the shallows he couldn't stand on his own. He was elbow deep in water, but laughed when the first thing I did was pull up the back of his pants when JE and I went to his rescue. We got him to his feet again. Poor guy! Not much worse for wear, but he laughed about it all afternoon.
I have this ideal about what my diet should look like: lean proteins, whole grains, no sugary sweets, loads of fresh vegetables. Most of the time I think I do fairly well with this. But this week with dad here, has opened my eyes to the truth. Anything I eat, he will eat; so I have had to get strategic with my food. There are a lot of little things I do that he cannot, and perhaps I should not if I wish to maintain my current state of health. My peanut butter and honey on multigrain bread for my mid afternoon snack isn't ok for dad, not when he tells me his blood glucose is 280!
I just can't figure out how to help him get a grasp on what normal blood glucose should feel like.
JE and I ran tonight, 4 miles. The first two were fine. The last two I ran from bridge to bridge, allowing myself to feel scared at the thought of loosing toes, feet, feeling, eyesight because of diabetes. Today is a week without sugar--there are some very powerful inspirations to help me with that one.
Gratitudes:
1) my toes, all ten. Even though they give me grief sometimes.
2) my sweet pancreas.
3) a sweet spouse who sits up and talks with dad while I escape to write
4) an ever positive father
5) books, the internet, and the expertise of so many who have shared how to handle this disease
6) wise words from JE tonight: set little goals, just like when we were training for races
I can do that...
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Navigating
There are big seas ahead for a little while in my life.
I'm learning the art of being a supportive badger. Dad is diabetic and seems to know about as much about his disease as I do, which isn't much. We are learning about carbs, sugars, insulin, and compassion.
Tired, so bone tired at times. Talking with my little sister, we decided that this is how our family mourns: sleep and forgetfulness. Apparently both sisters have been as forgetful as I was last night during class. Before dad arrived, I was cleaning the house and completely forgot that vacuuming the floor is part and parcel of doing that. Good grief.
Ran today, not far, but enough for today.
I'm learning the art of being a supportive badger. Dad is diabetic and seems to know about as much about his disease as I do, which isn't much. We are learning about carbs, sugars, insulin, and compassion.
Tired, so bone tired at times. Talking with my little sister, we decided that this is how our family mourns: sleep and forgetfulness. Apparently both sisters have been as forgetful as I was last night during class. Before dad arrived, I was cleaning the house and completely forgot that vacuuming the floor is part and parcel of doing that. Good grief.
Ran today, not far, but enough for today.
Focus
Rain today, so I had a great run this morning, instead: about 3.5 miles on dirt trail. I'd set out to run four miles, but knew I was done at three and a half At times I forgot I was running, thinking, making plans,remembering. How much changes in an instant.
Class was nice. It was good to be in public again, doing something that had nothing to do with travel, funerals, or even family. When I got to class, they were in the middle of making single welt pockets. If I could show you some of the pockets I have made for shows... There is a bit of magic in making pockets disappear completely, or featuring them. I've made dozens of them. But, as I sat down to sew, I could not for all I was worth, remember how to make a welt pocket. Eventually, I just picked up my chalk and scissors and zoned out, letting my auto-responder take control. It all worked out. I've been far too focused on other tasks at hand.
Class was nice. It was good to be in public again, doing something that had nothing to do with travel, funerals, or even family. When I got to class, they were in the middle of making single welt pockets. If I could show you some of the pockets I have made for shows... There is a bit of magic in making pockets disappear completely, or featuring them. I've made dozens of them. But, as I sat down to sew, I could not for all I was worth, remember how to make a welt pocket. Eventually, I just picked up my chalk and scissors and zoned out, letting my auto-responder take control. It all worked out. I've been far too focused on other tasks at hand.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Transitions
Transitions
We spent Saturday in San Francisco, walking around town, looking at stuff. No offense to those who love that city, but I don't love that city. Having grown up in Seattle in the 1970's, I understand what happens when a city becomes gentrified and turned over to the tourists, so I can see beneath the façade of San Francisco. But the more JE and I discuss what we experienced there, the more we feel like we may have missed the big tado in that city. Yes, it was lovely, and the were some neat elements there, but the soul of the city was missing. Which is funny, because that is what people say about Los Angeles. And yet, I've seen the multifaceted, brilliant gem that is the soul of LA, gleaming in the Korean BBQ and spas in Korea town, radiant in the murals that coat the city in the Latin districts, succulent in the pastry of the street vendor selling churros. This city pulses with life. From what I saw in San Francisco, I need to see more, and yet there is no draw there for me. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time, but I wonder what makes people go there on repeat visits.
I had a moment as I was picking s fe postcards, when I realized I was looking for a postcard to send my mom.
We returned home yesterday, feeling like I needed to get home and take care of some things. It's been almost two weeks since I left. It feels like a lifetime.
Watching dad hobble around makes me want to be ever so careful with my health. It is so painful to see how much he hurts. I spent the day trying to ensure that he will have the things he needs to make him comfortable while he is visiting. And some things for him for my sake, as well: a few new polo-style shirts and some Hawaiian print button downs, not exactly his style, but not terrible. If he likes them, I'll replace the buttons with tiny magnets. Diabetes sucks. Dad no longer is able to use buttons because he has lost feeling in his fingers.
My house underwent a few changes today. My cabinets that held mixing bowls, now hold a few easy cook canned items. Just rearranging things so that dad will have easier access.
I'm not sure how this will work. I'm not sure how autonomous dad can be these days. Though, doubtless, he want to be completely independent.
I think I need to pledge to myself to take care, always. Watch those rascally pounds that want to creep on; be so careful of the fat and sugar that can steal the feeling from hands and feet, sight from eyes; keep moving and bending and stretching so that arthritis has no invitation.
One of my main motivators in training was to overcome the stagnation of my health. Just thinking about a stagnant pond and what happens when there is no fresh water going in or out of it. So much of my body is made of water. If I remain stagnant for any period of time, I'll turn green and grow algae, or worse... What do I want my future to look like? Not like my parents... And so there are things which I need to do now, like watch my intake and my output.
So, on that note, I need to rethink my expectations. With dad coming, I will have another big something in my life. And work is coming up this week (thank goodness.) an hour a day? Best time for me is early morning. (in honesty, I luxuriated in bed this morning, with a cat purring contentedly in my armpit and the sun peeking through the curtain. Who could blame me, although there was a great deal of inner turmoil, knowing that if I didn't get my swim in at that time, the likely hood of fitting it in at all was diminishing by the moment. In the end, I'd never did get my swim in today. Nor my run. Nor my yoga or anything much but straightening the house in prep for dad's arrival. And also in honesty, I'm feeling so gooey and gross, I had to give myself pep-thoughts as I was walking through HomeDepot: it's ok, you're still doing well, give yourself a break, you just lost your mom, you can get back into your exercise routine soon, because you know how good you feel afterward, but right now what you are doing is very valid!)
Self love and forgiveness is important. I need to remember that about now.
Plan for the week October 2-9
Monday
Swim a mile
Prep house for dad:
Handicap bench for shower, bars for toilet, raise bed
Grocery shop
Dinner: Chinese chicken salad
Tuesday:
Bike around back bay
Clean fridge get rid of anything not wholly healthful
Get ready for class
Rent car
Pick dad up at airport
Mark map for dad
Dinner to go: tuna sandwiches
Wednesday
Run
Nike club fit
Pool time with dad?
Show dad around town
Beach time?
Spend time on jacket
Dinner: Thai curry
Thursday:
Bike to work
Work
Bike from work
Dinner: Steak, asparagus, brown rice
Yoga
Friday:
Bike to work
Work
Bike home
Dinner: Tuscan bread soup and grilled cheese
Swim
Saturday:
Take dad on a field trip
Run a bit
We spent Saturday in San Francisco, walking around town, looking at stuff. No offense to those who love that city, but I don't love that city. Having grown up in Seattle in the 1970's, I understand what happens when a city becomes gentrified and turned over to the tourists, so I can see beneath the façade of San Francisco. But the more JE and I discuss what we experienced there, the more we feel like we may have missed the big tado in that city. Yes, it was lovely, and the were some neat elements there, but the soul of the city was missing. Which is funny, because that is what people say about Los Angeles. And yet, I've seen the multifaceted, brilliant gem that is the soul of LA, gleaming in the Korean BBQ and spas in Korea town, radiant in the murals that coat the city in the Latin districts, succulent in the pastry of the street vendor selling churros. This city pulses with life. From what I saw in San Francisco, I need to see more, and yet there is no draw there for me. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time, but I wonder what makes people go there on repeat visits.
I had a moment as I was picking s fe postcards, when I realized I was looking for a postcard to send my mom.
We returned home yesterday, feeling like I needed to get home and take care of some things. It's been almost two weeks since I left. It feels like a lifetime.
Watching dad hobble around makes me want to be ever so careful with my health. It is so painful to see how much he hurts. I spent the day trying to ensure that he will have the things he needs to make him comfortable while he is visiting. And some things for him for my sake, as well: a few new polo-style shirts and some Hawaiian print button downs, not exactly his style, but not terrible. If he likes them, I'll replace the buttons with tiny magnets. Diabetes sucks. Dad no longer is able to use buttons because he has lost feeling in his fingers.
My house underwent a few changes today. My cabinets that held mixing bowls, now hold a few easy cook canned items. Just rearranging things so that dad will have easier access.
I'm not sure how this will work. I'm not sure how autonomous dad can be these days. Though, doubtless, he want to be completely independent.
I think I need to pledge to myself to take care, always. Watch those rascally pounds that want to creep on; be so careful of the fat and sugar that can steal the feeling from hands and feet, sight from eyes; keep moving and bending and stretching so that arthritis has no invitation.
One of my main motivators in training was to overcome the stagnation of my health. Just thinking about a stagnant pond and what happens when there is no fresh water going in or out of it. So much of my body is made of water. If I remain stagnant for any period of time, I'll turn green and grow algae, or worse... What do I want my future to look like? Not like my parents... And so there are things which I need to do now, like watch my intake and my output.
So, on that note, I need to rethink my expectations. With dad coming, I will have another big something in my life. And work is coming up this week (thank goodness.) an hour a day? Best time for me is early morning. (in honesty, I luxuriated in bed this morning, with a cat purring contentedly in my armpit and the sun peeking through the curtain. Who could blame me, although there was a great deal of inner turmoil, knowing that if I didn't get my swim in at that time, the likely hood of fitting it in at all was diminishing by the moment. In the end, I'd never did get my swim in today. Nor my run. Nor my yoga or anything much but straightening the house in prep for dad's arrival. And also in honesty, I'm feeling so gooey and gross, I had to give myself pep-thoughts as I was walking through HomeDepot: it's ok, you're still doing well, give yourself a break, you just lost your mom, you can get back into your exercise routine soon, because you know how good you feel afterward, but right now what you are doing is very valid!)
Self love and forgiveness is important. I need to remember that about now.
Plan for the week October 2-9
Monday
Swim a mile
Prep house for dad:
Handicap bench for shower, bars for toilet, raise bed
Grocery shop
Dinner: Chinese chicken salad
Tuesday:
Bike around back bay
Clean fridge get rid of anything not wholly healthful
Get ready for class
Rent car
Pick dad up at airport
Mark map for dad
Dinner to go: tuna sandwiches
Wednesday
Run
Nike club fit
Pool time with dad?
Show dad around town
Beach time?
Spend time on jacket
Dinner: Thai curry
Thursday:
Bike to work
Work
Bike from work
Dinner: Steak, asparagus, brown rice
Yoga
Friday:
Bike to work
Work
Bike home
Dinner: Tuscan bread soup and grilled cheese
Swim
Saturday:
Take dad on a field trip
Run a bit
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)