clickmom

being nice

Went to see the new new undead therapist today (from now he's the NNUD therapist). I had wanted to talk exclusively about the insanity that is my eating/bingeing these days but last week on my first day back I just told the tale of this summer. Today I did not go in there with a fire under me, but once I opened my mouth I only talked about the whole food thing. I was honest with him, and as weird as it sounds coming from someone who blogs just about everything, I had to force myself to be honest with him about the donuts that I binged on a couple (few) times. Last summer I brought the workers donuts all the time, and never touched one, and this summer I brought them donuts and would end up eating three or four by the end of the day. So I stopped bringing them donuts.

What I really wish for is for the NNUD therapist to put me in a hypnotic trance, and then I never want to go near a bad for me food again in my life. I want to eliminate my desire for the foods that give me cramps, diarrhea, bloating, head aches, oh yeah, and those foods (hello sugar, hello fat) that turn me into a fiend scrambling for my next hit.

Every day I wake up with the idea that this day will be the day I turn a corner, start a detox, eat right. And I haven't made it through a day yet. Yesterday I had to bring all the kids with me to get Josh's tooth filled at the dentist. I sent Matt and Evan over to the store to pick p something I had forgotten to get earlier. I gave them some extra money to buy themselves a snack and Evan came back with a huge chocolate bar. He sat down next to me n the dentist waiting room and started to peel back the wrapper. I stared at that chocolate bar and then, and I kid you not, I almost jumped him for the candy. Instead I stuck my hand out and Evan boke off a piece and dropped it onto my palm. I considered hesitating, but I really just popped it into my mouth and recognizing that I had just "ruined" the whole days efforts and had just opened the proverbial flood gates. On the way home from the dentist I stopped for some home made macaroons. Then I had ice cream, dinner, and more ice cream. Then I had a stomach ache.

So I am going over this ritual of bingeing and then admonishing myself and the NNUD therapist calls me out for being so hard on myself. Unbelievable! What an eye opener! I need to be more understanding and sympathetic to me. I'd never say the things that I tell myself to anyone else, well at least not to anyone I ever wanted to talk to again. Why should I beat myself up? I don't beat anyone else up! t made so much sense when started to talk about it. Also, remembering all that stuff about my inner 7 year old from the psychic I spoke to, I figure little me is probably cowering under a table afraid to move.

I was nicer to me today. Honestly, it felt weird and soft, which is weird since I am soft, just not to myself, until now. New M.O. Something has got to work.

food issues

I am in a bad way over here with the food. Yesterday morning I was doing dishes standing close to the cake I bought to fatten dad up a bit and I WANTED THAT CAKE. All I could think of was WANT CAKE WANT CAKE and I knew I was being like a two year old having this internal tantrum, but dammit, I WANTED CAKE so I cut myself a big old piece of cake and that not all that wonderful cake did absolutely nothing for me, so I had a bagel too. And then 20 minutes later I wondered why my stomach hurt so much an I have been either running to the bathroom or sucking up some gluten and dairy laden treat ever since.

My stomach is in trouble here.

Why? Internet, I have got to get a grip on these allergies/intolerances and stop.

still home being sick-weight loss update on the bottom

OMG people, I can not believe how sick I am! The good news right this second is that my eyes can actually focua on and read the screen as I type this. First time screen has been in focus since last Saturday!

Here's how worse illness in 5 years (since the pneumonia where I ended up hospitalized) went down. Last week I had a post nasal drip, then a sore throat, and then some seriously swollen glands. I wondered why I felt so weak and tired on Saturday. But on Sunday I woke up feeling really off. My soy-berry detox diet smoothie made me nauseous. I ran to the grocery store to buy lunch and dinner supplies and needed a sweatshirt to go out the door. t was 78 degrees.

I made it home, took my temp, 101.3 and took to my bed. I didn't even unpack all the groceries. Eventually the fever went up to 102 and then I got to have the click family routine fight with the husband that goes like this.

Husband : You must take something to reduce the fever
Me: The fever is what destroys what is making me sick! I don't want to take a fever reducer!

Repeat over and over again until someone who is not lying in bed with a fever gets so frustrated that he throws a pillow and storms out of the room and then I end up taking the fever reducer anyway because my fever goes up to 103.5 and my swollen neck glands hurt so much I wanted to make that pain stop. Then I sweat buckets for the next three hours because that is what the fever reducer does to me when the fever is being reduced. And then I lie about taking more fever reducer before I go to sleep because I would rather huddle under the blankets and shiver all night then sweat buckets all night.

But Monday my fever ran around 101.5 which was completely tolerable. I still slept off and on (mostly on) all day long. My neck glands were killing me. Pretty much, with the exception of my whole foods outing I end up sleeping for about 60 hours from Saturday night to Tuesday morning.

Are you still with me here? Dang, I almost put myself to sleep. So readers digest: Sweaty crazy fever dreams with large horned bucks, wild cats, bull mastifs, pugs, and long never ending winding trails, wake up just a teensy fever still nauseous neck pain 9.6 on the 1 to 10 scale. Call good doc. Tell his machine he has to see me. He calls back and tels me to go in a ten. The husband drives me over and the good tells him that fever reducer is OPTIONAL! And that here is a benefit to not taking fever reducer since fever is how an immune system destroys an invader. Ah. Sweet Sweet Victory.

Doc declares I will likely be myself in another day or two, thinks what I have is viral, but swabs my throat for a couple of tests anyway, and I don't have strep and won't know what the other swab finds for a couple of days. In th ecar on the way home I realize I don't feel as bad as I did when I woke up and stop at WF for refried beans and avocado. I already have the corn tortillas, lettuce and salsa at home. My favorite detox lunch) But when I get home I need to lie down and I crash for 2 solid hours. When I wake up I eat the bean soft taco thingy (or three) and that is the first thing that I have had (except for a couple of pieces of fruit) since that berry smoothie Sunday AM.

Now everyone knows that getting sick and not eating for two days is kind of cheating when you have told the internet that you are going to do a weekly weigh in, but I was heading in this successful direction anyway so here is the weigh in after 1 week of detox including 2 days of illness....... ta daa..... ELEVEN POUNDS. Do you know what that means people? Yes it means I must be seriously dehydrated, I recognize that, but still, 11! I can't believe it. But I am happy to see it! Or not see it anymore! Goodbye to you.

Hhhhhello

Okay, here comes the post about the detox.

Are you still with me? Wow, I am impressed by your dedication.

When I went to good doc last fall and told him how crappy I felt and he started running tests he also recommended that I read Ultra-Metabolism by Mark Hyman MD. Good doc said that it was the diet that he lived by. Which pretty impressed me since good doc is a fit and trim older than me guy and also judging by the photo on his shelf in his office his wife is quite the fox. I'd like to be a fox too. So I bought the book. And it sat there gathering dust on my shelf for a few months. But I had mentioned it to Bubbles. And in February when it was my birthday and the book was good and dusty on my shelf Bubbles, who did not know that I had already bought the book, only remembered that good doc had recommended the book to me, gave me another copy of the book. Wow, I was totally guilt ridden. So I started to read the book that Bubbles gave me and gave the dusty one away.

And I told myself that I was going to read all the background and then understand the reasoning behind the diet and then do the diet. Which was a great idea. Add then I read the book painfully slow. But the first 200 or so pages is all about why we end up fat and all the imbalances and toxic causes of a slowed metabolism and I pretty much read the book and shouted "OMG that is SO ME!" all the way through. Because now that I have had every single bodily fluid and bio hazardous waste of mine examined and I know how many alarming issues I am harboring I can confidently say that I am chemically messed up. And this program claims it can turn my metabolism around. And clean me up and restore my health, and polish the scrapes out of my bumper, ...oh wait, that was my dream last night.

Pretty much the diet part of the book is the same old Mediterranean Diet that every one is all worked up about these days. But the two week detox before the rest of the diet is where I am now. Today is day 4 for me. The one huge draw back I am finding is that every meal and the two snacks a day all require some serious in the kitchen time. I don't normally do kitchen time for lunch and snacks. (Because why cook when I can simply unwrap?) And also, waiting a whole hour to cook some brown rice for breakfast is pushing it for my somewhat crazed morning routine. But I am doing it. And that is what counts. And truthfully, there isn't a drastic difference yet (so impatient grasshopper) except that I am less bloated (not sure anyone else can tell). I have no energy at all but who knows if that is stress related (1 more day to finish cleaning out grandma's apartment) or health related. I should be having a nice yeast die off right about now. That could make me feel poorly. Also, if all those heavy metals are on their way out that could drag me down too. Or I could have my own personal stressful life and then get rear ended by some Mario Andretti who thinks he can drive 50 MPH in a parking lot and ..... never mind. You get the idea.

But the upside of this diet is that the weight is melting off already. I am sure much of it is water weight (hence the less bloated feeling) since yesterday, on day 3, I dashed off to the bathroom about every 45 minutes. I hope all that pee contained arsenic! The food is palatable though (with the exception of the banana soy smoothie that made me nauseous for a good hour and a half this morning-never eating that again!) and the kids are even eating and enjoying some of the dinner dishes. Some of the dinners are vegetarian and I have to make an additional meat for the boys because around here if no animal has been sacrificed then it doesn't actually count as a real meal. Maybe a snack. And they want their meals real at meal time.

And as far as appetite is concerned I have none. It's nothing short of a miracle. Or maybe the stench of my own breath. I think that the reason I have no appetite is that everything except breakfast is heavy on garlic, onions and herbs and right about now I am smelling like a garlic flavored gum chewing middle eastern restaurant cook after a long night's work. How's that for foxy?! Hhhhhhhey Hhhhhandsoooohhmme. I am hoping that after a week I can hop on the scale and see Biggest Loser type results, (with less than 4 hours a day in the gym) and if the first 4 days are an indication of things to come, then I am going to be very happy next Tuesday! As far as I am concerned, water counts. And if trim (FOXY) has to equal stinky then let it be so. Bring on the garlic. I figure I will get used to it.

So that is my exciting detox news. I will have the second set of follow up blood tests in June, so hopefully something good will be the result.

banner

One of the many many reasons I love Bubbles is that she is on top of all the latest exercise techniques. She never shows up for a training session without a new idea (way to torture me) or news of some relevant ground breaking research on some of my food and health issues.

Recently I have begun interval training. Bubbles tried to get me into it a year ago, but I was reluctant. It was so hard! But I am doing it now, and the results were almost immediate. My stamina and endurance are incredibly improved.

Last week Bubbles let me know that one of my weight workouts each week was going to change. She told me that we I was going to lift some super heavy weights (wasn't I doing that already?!?!) and do less reps. We chose Mondays for this new heavier (wah wah), more difficult workout since on Mondays I am less likely to do an exhausting cardio before hand and be less tired for the owrkout. Today was my first try out with the new technique.

When I first started to work out with Bubbles last year I soon self-observed that I did quite a bit of whining when she announced what I would be doing. I would do the exercise anyway, but I realized pretty soon that my whining could be a bit of a drag for Bubbles to hear every week. So I stopped whining. And now when Bubbles informs me that I am going to do more reps of something or heavier reps of something or some new move that seems like something only a very strong person (which I have become but am not always confident of being) should be attempting I make a self-deprecating joke or remark on Bubbles over confidence in me. She is probably getting tired of hearing that from me too. But I tell myself that at least I'm not whining.

Today when Bubbles kept sliding all of the weight plugs into weights heavier and heavier than the ones I have become comfortable with I took the challenge and grunted (so masculine) and groaned (very embarrassing) and lifted every single increased weight for the full 12 reps. Next time Bubbles is going to raise the weights again. And next time I am going to try my hardest. This better be good for me.

As far as tonight goes, I already took a mineral salt bath and might (limp) go back downstairs for some pain killers, not cause I am a wimp or anything, ahem, just as a preventative measure. Cause cough cough, it's not like I'm sore or anything. cough cough. All I know is that all this extra muscle better contribute to some kind of revved up metabolism. Cause I joke about this but, I fear that one day I will shed the excess weight only to discover that underneath I have unknowingly turned myself into The Incredible Hulk.

two fer one

Part one:
Lil sis said to me this morning "sometimes you have to be the jerk to get results" and just have a looky at what ended up in my inbox today:

Clickmom,
As promised, I went through records at my country home and I have the following: Soc. Sec. Card, Medicare Card, Passports 1977 and 1987, Drivers license exp 2/3/93, certificate of marriage registration, certificate of executrix for grandpa.

Remember, it was your dad and not I, who applied for Medicaid in NY. Apparently NY accepted copies and did not require originals of these papers.

I'll call with this list, but thought you might want a written list.

Scumcle

P.S. I also have some NY apartment management apartment security papers at my country home.

Nice try there, scumcle, trying to blame the loss of grandma's records on my dad. But the passport is what I needed (proof of citizenship) and you have that. Hopefully you'll give it up.

unrelated Part two:

Dear Universe,

When the good wonderful doctor said he wanted to redo the part of my blood test that said I was deficient in all trace minerals because it couldn't possibly be right and he suspected an error at the lab I said sure, go ahead. Well, it seems like giving up dairy (laaaatteeeeee!) as fun as it was (cheeeeeese!) didn't do anything to help the trace mineral situation. So much for my severe dairy allergy causing absorbtion issues.

I didn't know that the good doc was also redoing the heavy metals part of the test. I'd cut and paste the results for you if I knew how, but since you are the universe I am sure you already know that I am now testing in the toxic range for Aluminum, Arsenic, Cadmium, and Mercury.

Universe.... Why?

Or should I throw my hands up over my head and ask "What?" Or maybe "WHAT??" Am I somehow self producing these heavy metals? It just does not seem possible to be that toxic. Also, how am I standing here if I am that toxic? How am I not in a hospital bed covered in sores and babbling nonsense and bald and blind and deformed? Huh? How can I appear normal and be so off balance? Maybe I only think I am normal. Wait, I saw pictures yesterday. They were normal, large but in a normal kind of way. Normally large. Wait.... I must be tougher than I realize. Wait..... No wonder my memory is shot. If this heavy metal thing is true it's amazing I can even think. At least I think I am thinking. Maybe I am already crazy and all this daily posting is just a hallucination brought on by the toxic levels of everything I seem to be carting around. Hello? Knock knock! Are you there? More importantly, am I here?

Universe, Can I get a break please? Or at least some medicinal marijuana? I mean if I am not going to think straight, I might at least as well laugh about it, right?

And make it soon.

I am fairly certain I am teetering on the edge here.

Thanks for listening,
Clickmom

send asphalt

Is it me or does everyone now think that every blogger out there with a Bogher Ad Network ad looks like Jennifer Weiner? (At least I think it was Jennifer, honestly, if her first name would have made me snicker in second grade like her last name did I would have remembered it better). For a while I thought all the bloggers were Asian women with lots of black bangles on their raised arms. If you guys think the same thing then I am wondering how effective those blogger ads must be because I can tell you what the chicks looked like but I can't tell you what they wanted me to buy. Also, to the people who make the hyper moving ads, if I can't change the size of my screen to eliminate your annoying moving ad then I will not read the website. That can't be good for business either. I am just saying.

One sure sign that spring has arrived in the garden state has nothing to do with all the green bulb leaves poking up from the ground, or the cardinals and the robins I have spotted flying through on their way back from somewhere, or even the warmer than recent temperatures. Nope, the real sign that spring is finally here are the axle bending pot holes on all of our local roads. Seriously, since this is a yearly occurrence and not some kind of an omen like everything else is, then it must be a signal. And what I suspect is that if you were say, on the moon looking down and admiring the garden state, just the opposite of me being in the garden state looking up admiring the moon, and the sun was at the right angle you could see all the pot holes (craters) and they might spell out something, not S.O.S., but maybe SEND ASPHALT or ROAD CREWS NEEDED HERE with a big arrow pointing right to my neighborhood.

I am a bit disappointed that I never got back to the great outdoors to do some more partially frozen photography this winter. I know it was grandma being in the hospital or rehab since February 17th. This has been a looooong 5 weeks. On Friday when I saw her last she walked the entire length of the rehab. She is actually in better shape than she was when she went into the hospital, because back then she was in so much pain from the bone infection that she couldn't even stand up straight. But keeping in mind that she went to the hospital because she fell and the lying SOB head nurse said she couldn't move one of her legs, then I want grandma to be as fall proof as she can be for her age before going back to the OFH. So I figure another week of therapy won't do her any harm. Tomorrow I am going to chat with the social worker at the rehab about bringing grandma back to the OFH. Also, I'd like to see if they can send a physical therapist to the OFH for a while. I know grandma will hate that, but it can only help in the long run. I can't believe we made it out of this one intact. Well, minus a little toe, but essentially the same grandma and me only a bit more stressed for the experience of it.

Tomorrow will be 4 weeks absolutely dairy free and some freaky things are going on with me. The two most annoying are this incredible swelling of my belly and a pain in my lower back. The pain in my back is like no other lower back pain I have ever felt, so I am wondering if it is my kidneys complaining about the yeast die off that I suspect I am going through. I was in much pain this morning and felt a little better after downing four or so glasses of water. Interesting enough, I pretty much had to run (slowly limp) to the bathroom after each glass of water, which leads me to believe that the water is not taking the long way out and instead running right through me with out doing much kidney cleansing. I'll have to call both the actual MD and my snake oil dispensing voo doo chiro tomorrow. Also, I have been seriously jonesing for and indulging in the sugar lately but tomorrow I am going cold turkey on that too. I am pretty sure I have eaten last trace of anything I can eat in the house (with the exception of the bagged sugar for baking which I have been known on occasion to eat by the spoonful- and YES this is embarrassing to admit) , so it shouldn't be all that hard as long as I can stay determined and focused. My big topic for the therapist this week is going to be the amount of internal whining I do and why I just can't suck it up and get on with my gluten/dairy/sugar/corn/tomato free life. I mean, I know there are worse things than needing to eat carefully.

I'm skipping the weekly winners again this week because once again inspration was hard to come by. I thought I might do something creative at that egg hunt but it was a bad atmosphere, and I barely shot my assignment let alone anything creative or extra. I took some crappy stuff on the iphone, but nothing really worth publishing, so I am skipping.

Now I am off to practice guitar before bed. If I do it for too long my fingers still hurt. And I am saving the content of my practice for it's very own post, but to be truthful with you, even I am starting to embarrass myself with the lightness of my light music taste. I figure it's just another day or two before I partake in liver spots and bifocals.

lotioning

The other day in the locker room at the posh club I happened to (stare right at in a possibly creepy kid of way) noticed a lady applying lotion after her shower. This lady applied lotion to every single skin cell not considered a mucous membrane on her entire body. And I thought "Hmm, I only apply lotion to the areas of skin that are typically not covered my very matronly bathing suits. Maybe I have missed something (yet again) in the "How to be a girl" handbook." So I went home and investigated the need for moisturizer on my tushy.

To be honest with you folks, my bottom did not appear (no snake skin like on my legs) and did not feel (yup, it was already nice and soft despite the lack of body lotion) to need any additional hydration, but after my shower the next morning I went ahead and lotioned it right up just to see what I have been missing out on all these years of creaming neglect. Well, to say that I was less than impressed is an understatement. Maybe it is because all my creams are serious heavy duty kind of creams, or maybe it is because I am some kind of freak who doesn't like yanking my granny panties up over a moist/tacky/lotioned up butt all morning, but what ever the reason, after that experiment I figured I was done with creaming my bottom for ever.

Then I happened to buy (don't hate me!) an O magazine. Usually if I am going to read something that far below my reading level it is going to have some really good celebrity gossip in it (and pictures of those scandalous celebs too!), but O lured me in with a promise of higher energy (4 hidden causes of fatigue) and I tossed it up there right on top of my kale (leafy greens=fountain of youth) and brought it home. Well, according to someone who was interviewed for O magazine, there is such a thing as LOTION THERAPY and in lotion therapy you have to lotion up every inch of yourself every day so that your previously fat self can reconnect with the newly trimmer self you have become. And I thought "Oh No! Now I will be psychologically fat forever!" But I thought it was interesting in a sponsored by vaseline intensive care kind of way. I'm still not lotioning my butt again.

In the mean time all 4 of those hidden causes require a trip to the doctor and some tests to diagnose but the one I am seriously thinking just might be a cause for me is the thyroid one. In a surprise move which shocked even myself, yesterday , instead of basking in the new coolness that is my folks aren't here to run the electric fireplace 13 hours a day, I turned the thermostat up. And worse, I didn't notice it had gotten a bit um... hot in the house. Then the husband came home and nearly fainted before he managed to strip down into his boxers and an undershirt. And I had admit that I have not been the usual hot potato I have been most of my life. Also, all this exercise I have been doing is paying off in more muscle tone, but the scales have not budged despite the fact that I have been off sugar since the week before Thanksgiving.

So, me and my naturally smooth butt will be heading off to the doctors soon. I think a nice round of tests is in order.

this and that

I'm thinking of starting a new category here. I'm going to call it "Is it just me or..??" Like this: Is it just me or are people going absolutely crazy on the highways lately. What is with all the passing on the right? Do cops not catch you speeding if you are on the right? Do you get there faster if you pass on the right? Can we call a truce on the passing on the right? It is really getting on my nerves.

Today a lady hopped onto the eliptical machine right to the one I was exercising on. The first thing I noticed was her carefully sculpted teased crown of hair all up in a pony tail. She must really hate the natural shape of her head to tease up the top of her head before tying on a pony tail and going to the gym. Now I wonder if maybe she isn't deformed on the top of her head. Maybe she has a big crater head she is trying to hide. Also, there was much makeup in use on the hair teased eliptical lady at the gym today. And perfume. So, the lady with the crater head, the bad skin and the B.O. (I assume) hopped onto the machine next to mine and if you think I can tell you any more about what she looked like you are wrong. I imagine if I saw her coming out of the shower it would be quite the frightful sight. But I couldn't stick around, her perfume was making me ill.

I had an interesting chat with Bubbles about my weight today. I have decided that I eat like someone who should be 30 pounds over weight. Not 30 x 4 pounds over weight. I am going to have my thyroid tested. The symptoms fit. And as Bubbles so cheerfully reminded me, I am over 40! Woo Hoo!

You won't believe this tid-bit folks. My parents went home. They went home Friday and I didn't mention it because I am still processing it. They have made more medically sound decisions in their lives. Hopefully mom won't go into kidney failure while down there. It's a possibility. Mostly I am angry. Every one pretended like this would be a good thing because I would get a break. Now my worry has just been multiplied by about 17 (hundred). It is nice to fall asleep without the downstairs tv shaking my windows though. I still have not been alone in the house, but I never give up hope. There is always tomorrow!

Grandma won't do anything any more. She wants to die. I have been calling the one surgeon who might be able to do this out dated procedure that might not even work, but can not get through to him. Seems he doesn't spend much time in the office. Grandma has taken to throwing her pills at the nurses. They are used to that but my eyebrows are raised. Very interesting. She says she wants to die. I don't blame her.

This corner of the garden state is buried under a layer of ice. Evan wanted to slide around on a patch of ice this afternoon. I told him it wasn't a good idea, I did not approve, it wasn't safe and not to come crying to me if he got hurt. He got hurt. He cried for 4 1/2 hours right up until the moment I put him to bed. Men.

Tomorrow is Josh's school "holiday" (Christmas) concert. I might have to medicate not to die from his unadulterated enthusiasm and overall adorableness. He wanted to wear a black turtle neck for some reason. I'll take photos.

NaBigFatty

I went to spin class today. Pretty much as soon I started to spin my legs my thighs began whining. And whimpering. I said "Quiet you two! Just move those pedals! And no complaining when I have to stand!" But the thighs are stubborn, oh yes they are, and whine and complain they did for the whole entire 1 hour spin class. I tried to talk it out with them. I said "Guys, what is the deal? You have no energy.... like ever. Why is it that you are not recovering between torture exercises?" But they didn't answer me, only kept on with the pitiful kind of heart wrenching mind blowing whining. In order to block out their cries of agony, I set the mind to work, I said "Mind, what is going on here? They are so unhappy, always lazy, never wanting to get the job done. They weren't like this back in September. They were roaring to go back then and I didn't even use them all summer!" And then the mind briefly considered that I had given the legs the summer off, kind of, and that maybe they needed inordinate amounts of rest, and then the mind remembered something critical, back in September we were still sugar free from the summer of good eating. And the mind reminded me that the legs never want to play after a thorough sugar binge and I realized that there are so many food issues that I need to reconcile. Like my enjoyment of physical activity and how difficult it is to be active when I am not eating well.

Also, there were full body bathing suit photos taken of me during this past vacation (one of my kids apparently has a death wish) and they really blew my mind. I can not believe (well, I can but I don't want to) that my physical self is the same person as my mental self. To me I look like I am a complete psychological mess. Maybe this is my own personal issue, perhaps I am a weightist, but if my big fat self struck up a conversation with my physical self, say on line at the check out counter or something, my mental self would burst out crying imagining the psychic pain my physical self must be in in order to eat herself into this condition.