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.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
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
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