Monday, March 07, 2011
Well, purple, really. And not exactly the eye, at its side, and now over the lid on the left hand side. It looks in some ways like a bad job of applying purple eye shadow.
How did I acquire this little gem, you might well ask, and I expect the folks at work will ask!
In yesterday's entry about Diamond's final days, I mentioned she was looking for places to hide and getting stuck. One of the places she got stuck was between the couch and the treadmill. As I extricated her, I managed to forget where the arm on the treadmill was, and bashed the side of my head as I lifted her out. So, I'm walking around with this odd configuration of a bruise.
Thanks to all my spark friends who expressed their sympathy. Today I am at peace with knowing that she's no longer in pain. I walked two hours in the sunshine yesterday afternoon, and thought about the years when she was young and such a runner. In fact the vet mentioned that as we went through the process... she must have been quite the runner. Well she was. She ran like the wind. She loved nothing so much as running with her Golden running buddy, Suzu, when they were both six months old and Suzu's owner and I jogged the same park path. We would let the pups off leash and they exercised one another far more than jogging with a human would do for them.
One time when she was eleven or twelve and we were at the dog park (another leash-free environment) she tried to match strides with a six month old greyhound. Like a quarter horse and a thoroughbred colt, they were. She outpaced the young hound early on, but couldn't go the distance. Still, she was happy, and she was persistent. She was NOT going to give up, and kept inviting the pup to play.
These past couple of years, she has not been able to go as fast or as long, and I could not take the longer walks with her. But yesterday, she ran free beside me, in spirit. We're going to be OK.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
I'm just home from the Vet ER, where I went to make and reconfirm the hardest decision one has with a pet. This morning, my Diamond girl was trying to find small spaces to crawl into, to hide from her pain. She had not eaten since last Thursday, and she had not even taken much water in since then. In addition to the problems with her limbs not working for her, that is. She did not even seem to be aware when her foot was upside down.
The Vet confirmed this, and more. She had a fever. No obvious tumors. He thought the thing with the limbs was secondary to something internal. Possibly organ failure setting in, kidneys or liver... they could do a lot of expensive tests to confirm which or what. There could be *some* meds that would buy us time, once those tests were done.
But the cold, hard truth is, at this point, the way she has been? She is getting herself into "fixes" in the house she can't get herself out of. She gets behind furniture, tangled in cords, and pulls things down on herself, or drags a chair behind her and gets trapped in the laundry room or her neck stuck between the banister rails on the stairway.
I could not leave her alone, and I can't stay home from work to follow her around and extricate her, either. And I was concerned about her pain and restlessness. So... tough decision as it was... given the options... I said good-bye to my fur-baby, sending my love with her to meet up with my nephew at the Rainbow bridge.
She gave me her final gift, breaking the dam behind which my tears were trapped. I whispered in her ear to play with Lily and Suzu and all the pets who have preceded her into doggy heaven. In heaven, she's free, and her body works the way it is intended. In heaven she sees clearly, and flows with happiness. And she goes with my love.
But I miss her, and shall, for a long while, until we meet again.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
In half an hour or so I'll be going in for my monthly maintenance consultation. I've been thinking about what I'm going to say to the first question (and of course any such plans of what to say are pure speculation... they fly out the window as soon as I walk in the door at my center)! Oh? The first question? "How was your month?"
Well, Gina, the day after we last met, I got the phone call about my nephew dying. I have been trying to coax the tears ever since, but I'm still in denial. I've tried sappy movies. I've tried sitting with thoughts of him. Come close, know the emotions are under there... but I've buried them!
Now my dog is struggling. Clearly not herself. Having trouble standing, walking, doing stairs. Not as annoyingly "barky" as she has been. Last night she got herself tangled up in the phone cord in the middle of the night and managed to pull both the phone and the hand vacuum that sits on the same chest onto the floor with a large clatter. She was scared by all of this.
Yesterday I was fragile at work. On the verge of having that dam break and the tears start to flow. But I got busy and didn't make a spectacle at work, although I did confide in a couple of coworkers about the grieving thing.
What's that got to do with weight loss / maintenance, you ask? Food is a comfort... even "naturally" normal sized people will turn to food for comfort in times of stress (especially those of us who eschew alcohol or other "pure" drugs). Those of us with life-long stress - emotional connections to eating? A greater tendency is there.
After decades of living as "me", I know this reality: eating over this stuff does not make it better in the long run. It just transfers what I'm feeling bad about to self-condemnation over being "bad" with food. I have made the conscious decision to stop doing that to myself. I'm worth more than that. My bad feelings like sorrow and anger deserve the respect to be recognized and allowed. I do not need to numb them with food, or if I choose to do so temporarily, I do not need to magnify the problem by continuing to do so!
So, it's been a good month in that even though all these crazy things are going on in my life, I've only had three binge-y days, way over the calorie range. And the statistics show me to be on an average at a slight calorie deficit. The scale SHOULD show maintenance.
Here's to a good weekend. Hope I get some of those tears out.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
"Mann ist was man isst." OK, I don't have a German keyboard, and Spark doesn't let me type HTML, but this is an approximation the original of "One is what one eats" or "You are what you eat." We quote it a lot, in a joking sort of a way. Eat healthy, be healthy.
Mentally, are we what we read? Well, reading encouraging Spark posts, success stories, motivational things tends to make me feel more motivated, for sure.
Lately, I've been dipping into the literature of the psychology of weight loss and gain. Currently it's "Angry Fat Girls". Like its predecessor, "Passing for Thin" (same author, Frances Kuffel), it is disturbingly familiar and disturbingly alien at the same time. Since I have inhabited "the rooms" I know the language. But some things about the author's experience never seemed to apply to my own. This doesn't make either of our journeys less valid.
I keep reading, because it is valuable to keep memories green in order to maintain healthy habits. However, the difference between the retrospective this gives and Spark seems to me like the difference between Freudian psychology, seeking to understand "why", and behaviorism that seeks to change "what". You need elements of both in recovery: why helps you past the self-condemnation, but you need to actively change the what. On the other hand, changing the what without understanding the why can lead to relapse and giving up!
I think after this book, though, I'll take a break from this genre for a while, get myself back to the fiction I so enjoy! Here's to a healthy rest of the week folks.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Yesterday was an "off" day from the half-marathon training. I did a total body strength workout from Spark, instead. Felt good keeping that commitment. Why? Because I love that muscle definition in the progress photos & don't want to lose it! I can't believe it, but there's this little shred of vanity going.
Today, the schedule called for 3-4 "long hills", and the notes indicate the total mileage including warm up and cool down and those hills should be about 4 miles. So, again, tossed something on the TV to keep the mind going while the body moved. This time it was "The Closer". An hour later, 4 faux hills (incline 8) of 3/4, 3/4, 3/4, and 1/2 mile each... with 1/4 mile lesser inclines in between.
And the endorphins start to flow, leaving a feeling of well-being. A good stretch session after, and I know I'll sleep well tonight. Less than nine weeks to that half marathon!
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