Month: February 2013

Atkins Four Weeks In

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Hooray! Seven pounds lost so far! I now weigh less with all my clothes on – shoes too – than I did one month ago with no clothes on at all. Now that feels good. And my jeans more than comfortably close around my middle. Still the same size, but hope is restored and I can fully visualize that next size down. Good news for me, because I was just beginning to lose hope. 

I kinda gave up on the pure induction lifestyle (less than 20 carbs a day) when I had to cook for my father this week. He likes a drink before dinner and almost always has wine with his meal. I missed my wine, so I very much enjoyed having a glass along with him – plus the tiniest taste of the meal’s pasta, rice or bread portion. Yeah, in fact I ‘cheated’ a few times. But all in all, I’ve come to a rhythm that works for me. My best successes on diets have always come once I’m over the initial phase of becoming reacquainted with the counts – grams, portions, fat, carbs and so on – and have come upon the go-to shortlist of foods that work best. I find I’d rather have just a few foods that I like really well and that fit the numbers, than have to come up with new ideas over and over again. For me it’s just easiest to ‘set it and forget it’. In short, diets for me are a bit monotonous. Which is fine for a few months, and usually that’s all I’ve ever needed. (With the exception of the post-pregnancy loss of 55 pounds on Weight Watchers, and that was a long and slow process of nearly a year. I ate a good variety, but portions were small and I used a great amount of personal discipline. Not sure I could muster that kind of self control right now.)

I’ve decided to allow myself a few small cheats, as it saves me from feeling the poor-me, my-plight-is-so-boring-and-everybody-else-is-having-such-a-good-time self pity thing. In the end I’ve got little to complain about – I eat sausage and eggs for breakfast every day, and I’m seldom gnawingly hungry. I might miss a good handful of potato chips, but really, now that I’m in my groove, it’s not that bad.

Now on to month two…

Sunday Afternoon

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It’s been a nice day at home. Thought I’d entice Elihu outside by suggesting we follow the resident fox’s tracks around the woods, but he was happier inside. I remind myself that a bright, snowy day for an Achromat can take a bit of energy and today he just wasn’t up to it. Instead he studied up on airplanes and engines, enjoyed some time flying his helicopters – and we had a nice surprise visit from our neighbors Stephanie and Zac and their two daughters, Annabelle and Bailey (they’re expecting baby number three in late April). They came by on their old model T, for which Zac had made a fine set of wooden skis to replace the front tires.

Mom’s still in the hospital another day, so before long we need to stop by for a visit, and then we’ll head over to dad’s to bring him supper. It’s a school night, so we don’t want to make it a late one. It’s been a nice, relaxed day of aviation, friends, cooking and baking. A perfect Sunday. Here are a couple pics of Zac’s prize ride…

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Loading up the family…

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Crank starting the old engine…

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All aboard…

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They head off the long way ’round…

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Passing us to the East (Saratoga Lake near the horizon)

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Heading North towards the field…

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Snow is clearly no problem for this nearly 100 year old vehicle!

 

Hospital Stay

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It was probably inevitable, I suppose, that one of my parents should find themselves in the hospital. Even though dad’s situation doesn’t seem like it would require such treatment, it had nonetheless been him who I’d pictured going in first. But no. Instead, my mother, the woman who still captains the ship, who still feeds my brother and dad, who takes care of the five cats, who shops, cleans the house as she can, works two days a week, pays for Elihu’s Waldorf education as well as the mortgage on our house – it is she who must stay for four days and four nights in the hospital. She’s been increasingly out of breath the last couple of months and learned she has Atrial Fibrillation (otherwise known as Afib). They tried to zap her heart to make the top and bottom valves get beating in sycn again, but it didn’t take. So now she’ll need some new meds – and she’ll have to stay in the hospital as they monitor her progress. Naturally, upon learning this, I was worried about her, but then a new reality came to me: I was now in charge. Crap. Good thing I only have one kid. Good thing I have an automatic coop door opener. Good thing my schedule isn’t over booked. Here it is, finally. I’d wondered how I’d deal with something like this for a while now, but I hand’t taken the train of thought and gone very far with it. I had a vague idea, but thought it still somewhere far off in my future. And really, even now I’m not overly concerned; things aren’t dire, not really. Mom’s being well cared for and I think dad’s ok too, and Elihu and I will enjoy being with grandpa and making him supper over the next few nights. It’s ok for the short term, but I can’t imagine living like this. Yeah, I think a one parent household is a ways off yet – but still, this is a good little wake-up call. I realize that things won’t always be thus.

It’s weird. The way we’ve all prepared the docs and sat around the table with a lawyer; on paper we’re ‘ready’ – yet still I have no idea what I’ll actually need to do when the first parent passes. I know, I know… I shouldn’t talk like this. But hey, my mom’s a 78 year old woman with a heart condition. My dad can’t even remember if he’s eaten lunch, much less operate a phone or a microwave, and his condition will only get worse as time passes. Things are changing, and I need to consider some game plans. But for now I can’t, I gotta run. Accidents at night still necessitate loads and loads of laundry (I really need to invest in a second pair of sheets and another mattress pad!), the birds still need tending, eggs need to be washed and packed, food needs to be prepared…. Plus dad needs a bunch of meds twice a day, mom needs some things brought to her in the hospital, and guess what? I’m out of gas and low on cash. And it’s a snow day, so I’ve got the kid tagging along. Sheesh. !

One thing I will do today. Mom doesn’t own a light bathrobe. She’d never in a million years think to buy herself one, because it’s a luxury, not a necessity. So, armed with a Kohl’s gift card I’m going to get her one. So she can get out of that bed and walk down the hall with some dignity. She hasn’t asked me to bring much, just the last issue of the New Yorker, some deodorant and floss. I’ll try to do better than that. I’ll pack her a little weekend getaway bag. Cuz this really is the closest thing my mother has probably ever had in her life to a real vacation. Hopefully she’ll find some rest and relaxation over the next few days, and she’ll find her heart beating normally again. Then maybe she won’t need another hospital vacation again for a long time.

Atkins Three Weeks In

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Hoo boy. Feeling a bit disappointed, and frankly, a little ashamed to admit I can’t tell any appreciable difference in my weight this week from last. It seems I’ve dropped a single pound, but on my cheapo scale I really can’t be sure. Anyway, it’s kinda hard to see the exact line from five feet up. Probably should invest in a digital scale – but that’s a luxury I don’t really need. I’ll be able to see well enough when that needle passes the next milestone. While I was feeling a heavy dose of self pity this morning, I’m regrouping again and taking heart. Hey, at least I’m not going up anymore. I gotta remind myself that I’ve learned a lot about food in general, and how to spot those ubiquitous carbs. I’ve become sensitive to quantity and portion size too, and all of this is good. And if nothing else, I’ve got an audience for my process, so I’m a bit more motivated to report success.

The difference this week? I strayed from the diet a couple of times. After the ‘helicopter kiosk at the mall’ incident I allowed myself one comforting sip of Orange Crush and a bite of pita bread. I know, that doesn’t sound bad, but again… the Atkins ‘experts’ warn that a bite – even a taste – of something sweet or carb-laden can throw your body back into a glucose-burning machine just like that. To recap: the idea of this diet is to transform your body from a sugar burning engine to a protein and fat burning engine. Apparently, your body jumps at the carbs cuz they’re easier, quicker energy. Makes sense. But man, staying the course is not easy. Atkins fans like to say how great the selections are, how full you feel, etc, etc… but in the bigger picture it’s really kind of a drag. But I remind myself that it’s a good time of year to restrict my diet like this. Not a lot going on, and with winter still here it’s the perfect time to do the metamorphosis/chrysalis thing. So onward I go.

I also broke down and took some cold medicine this week – a handful of times. I’m nearly two weeks from the worst part of it, but my cold still lingers and the amount of mucus I’m producing is downright annoying. Sleeping was harder than usual too. Had to do something. I also made one rather landmark transgression: I had a very small glass of wine. And I mean small. But again, probably enough to mess with the pure induction ketosis thing. (I was at a friend’s art gallery opening and having a wonderful time meeting people and chatting. I figured the quality of life thing superceded the diet in that moment. I’m still not overly concerned. Hey – two and a half weeks without a drink is HUGE for me.) 

Boy my confidence is a tenuous and fragile thing. This morning I was absolutely crestfallen. But now after collecting my thoughts on paper, my spirits are renewed. What I’ve managed to do – and the temptations I’ve managed to resist – are tiny successes. And tiny is something. While I may never again have the tiny body I did when in my twenties, I am nonetheless happy to be just a bit tinier than I was three weeks ago.

Departure

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My heart sunk down to my knees and my body went cold. The kiosk where our Turkish friends sold helicopters at the mall was gone. Gone. In its place a wide expanse of hallway. As if it had never even been there at all. For almost the past two years this place had been mecca for my son. His young life has revolved around his chickens and his helicopters. This is the place he learned to fly. This is the place where he’d test pilot a variety of machines for hours on end while I waited nearby, reading. The two young men who ran the stand always showed Elihu such kindness. At Christmas one even gave him his choice of helicopter – just like that. “Which one do you like?” the man asked. Elihu showed him, and the man handed it over with a smile. No doubt Elihu had probably been responsible for a handful of sales – even so, this was truly an unexpected and sweet gesture. The men would share snacks with Elihu, they’d even leave the stand for a few minutes, trusting Elihu to keep watch in their absence. Truly, this had become an important part of our lives. The kind of place we kinda always thought would be there. And now, it wasn’t.

Thankfully, we’d been there just a few days before. We knew they were concluding their seven year business and moving on. The mall overall wasn’t doing well, their numbers were declining – plus they were getting burnt out on it. We understood. And yet somehow, we couldn’t really believe it. “Come back Friday” they told us, as they’d been working on getting one of Elihu’s helicopters fixed. Not sure why I gave them our info the last time we saw them, but I’m glad I did. It gives us both hope that they might stay in touch… Still, there’s no real closure here, and it’s upsetting. Elihu was so excited about getting his old helicopter back fixed too. Each morning the past two weeks he would count down the days until he picked it up. (I myself was never so confident that they’d been able to help – it seemed to me they were stalling because they didn’t want to disappoint him!) But it wasn’t the loss of his toy that saddened him. It was the loss of his friends, of this joyful oasis in his life for which there was no substitute. But they were just one day short… why? We couldn’t understand it, so I began to search for the story. 

We visited a shopkeeper across the way who I knew to be a fan of Elihu’s. He would stand outside his store, watching Elihu fly, smiling the whole time. He knew us by sight, and thankfully, he was able to fill us in. It seems he’d been witness to their final moments there. Turns out they’d planned on being here Friday. We were not stood up (I didn’t think so, but it was still nice to hear.) There’d been a fight with the mall manager. They’d asked for three extra days, but the manager wouldn’t let them pay a prorated rent, and instead challenged them to pay him half a month’s rent for three more days. Our friends had no choice but to leave. I can imagine they were disappointed to know that Elihu would be let down, that they would not be here for him – either to return his toy or to say goodbye. It wasn’t the ending either party would have chosen. But little we could do. 

I’m proud of Elihu. He didn’t cry, even though it would have been entirely understandable. (Hell, I wanted to!) But he did keep staring at the space, walking back and forth over the spot again and again and repeating “I just can’t believe it…” In the end, we ended up making friends with the store owner, and he said he thought he had the Turkish fellows’ number at home – that he’d bring it in for us. So that made us feel a little better. And we both reminded ourselves that we never know what’s ahead. That sometimes big – and often sad – changes have to happen before something new and different and good can happen. Yeah, we both know that stuff. But it didn’t really make it any less sad. Just a bit more tolerable. 

Time will take the edge off our loss. We’ve both learned a lot from this chapter in our lives, we’re grateful for it, and now it’s reached its conclusion. Some new chapter will begin soon and we’ll learn new things and meet new friends. In time it’ll all sort itself out. After all we both know it’s true; every arrival depends upon a departure…