Sun comes up.

After I had given my notice at the art center, a coworker and I were having a conversation over lunch.  She said something about “early retirement” and I said something along the lines of “someone is retiring?”.   She meant me.  After mumbling about and stating that I had never said the term “early retirement”, she said “Cindi, I don’t think it’s a bad thing”. 

It isn’t.  It’s just that I hadn’t thought about it that way.  I just thought of it as no longer working there.  I am not old enough for social security, and well, I just hadn’t thought of it as retirement. 

Now, six weeks or so down the road, I still don’t think of myself as retired but I am closer.  I walked around the yard this morning,  early for me, and thought of my dad, who enjoyed his yard so much.  Hubs mowed last night and the yard was just gorgeous at daybreak.  I spooked a heron and watched it fly over the lake and appreciated the graceful lines and the “squawk”.  I thought of my friend Kathy who gets bluebirds at her rural home while I get heron here at the lake, and how we each get excited to see them, every time.   

I don’t think I will turn in to one of those avid gardeners who worry over their rose bushes or tomato plants but I did pause a while over my two scraggly rose bushes and four tomato plants as I squished through the rain and dew soaked yard.  Yeah, this is a pretty good way to start the day, I thought to myself.  I could get into it.  I tilted my head toward the sun, just starting to come up and breathed in a new day.  This is good.

This is really good.  

Vacation!

You may have noticed my absence the last few days.  My family and I were on vacation.  I considered, for only a moment, taking the ol’ laptop and posting something from our vacation home in Destin, Florida but changed my mind…which was good because I learned we didn’t have wireless access anyway! 

 

We were short a family member or two, which made the trip less than 100% perfect but it was so darn close otherwise.  Destin is a good spot although it has become so over-developed I am not sure we will stay there again.  Or maybe we will but make another choice as to our location.  At any rate, the weather was perfect, the house was great, the grandchildren were incredibly well-behaved and I was, and am, one happy lady.

 

Now that I have returned from vacation, it’s time to talk about the Tupperware Fix n’ Mix bowl.  Do you know this bowl? Giant…many of us have it in yellow? I can not find my yellow bowl ANYWHERE although I am sure it is in this house.  Only sure because why would I get rid of the most perfect bowl in the world? Besides, the lid is here so it must be here.  But, after about five years of asking all the kids and hubs if they've seen it and missing it on more than one occasion for a big ol’ mess of taco salad, I bought a new one.  I ordered it online and it was waiting for me when I returned this week.  Here’s the thing about this big bowl – it’s not always available.  In fact, last summer I came so close to buying it when it was released for a limited time in an awesome purple color.  I did not, however, as I knew darn good and well that yellow bowl is here somewhere.  Anyway, I checked again off and on over the last several months and the bowl finally returned in turquoise.

 

I am beyond when it comes to this new bowl.  It’s too big for my cabinets but I don’t care as I like it that much.  I’ll find a place for it and when I do, I have a feeling I will also find the yellow one. 

We know that I am attempting to eat better and to exercise a bit; I’m working on some insomnia issues and have increased my interest in my yardwork, both for relaxation and to get some things accomplished that I have put off.  

The final step I took in “correcting” my lifestyle was to leave my full time job.  This was a tough decision as I really enjoyed my job.  I like the people, I like the work…I like what the art center is doing in the community.  However, it added a certain amount of stress in my life that I didn’t feel I needed.  So, after considering it for several months, I decided no time like the present, and left.  Now, you may remember that I do some remote work from home and have since 2007.  I still do that work so it’s not as if I have checked out, everyone.  I am a productive individual and have increased my remote work hours since leaving my outside job. 

Anyway, leaving the job was largely to afford me more time to do the things I wanted to do…spend time with my grandchildren, spend time with some gardening, spend time at home and trying to keep this little house managed.  It has been about a month and I’m still not as organized as I would like to be but it’s getting there.  There are still many, many weeds to pull and object d’ art to dust.  I haven’t caught up totally on laundry and routine housework but I have sent three bags of clothing and miscellaneous to charity, so the closet is looking better.  I have two or three lists of things to accomplish this year, inside and out, so I am not anticipating much “down time”.

I have posted in the past about my father having been a bridge builder.  One of my projects for the spring was a footbridge on my walking path.  I found a plan, whined a bit to hubs to bring home the materials and with the help of my two sons-in-law and daughters and my fabulous granddaughter, I have a small bridge on the walking path.  It's just a wooded curve as it doesn’t span water or anything, but it’s exactly what I wanted.  Now, the walking path goes nowhere right now but with a bit of landscaping and some other plans, it will be a destination.  I also need to figure out a railing for the bridge and have a few ideas rolling about in my head ~ none of which hubs wants to discuss.

I needed a bridge.  I love this bridge.  I like how it elevates you to a new perspective and gives you a different outlook, a different view.  It’s slight, but it’s mighty.  Here’s the beginning of my bridge ~ railing, and destination,  to come soon.  

Beginning to manage

Megan the dietician helped me understand how to eat better and when to eat.  Yes, breakfast really is that important to all things…both weight loss, if that’s what you are going for, and glucose management.  Sometimes those two go hand in hand, and I suppose that’s a good thing.

Megan provided me with a lot of fact sheets and brochures and when I winced at not having a snack period, she patted my hand and with a bit of exasperation said “Fine, we’ll give you a snack!”.  She likely said it much nicer than that, but I’m painting a picture here of how  much I whined.   The end result was a snack built in to my diet plan in late afternoon.  

Not just eating breakfast but trying to eat at regular times was the next hurdle.  Also a bit difficult for me because as a procrastinator, I sometimes put off cooking and eating until very late in the day.   I have never been one of those dinner is on the table at 5:30 kind of people. I wish I had been as I now see how beneficial it is.  Regular fueling in addition to the medication is key for me.  But, we’ve established that I’m a snacker, a breakfast skipper and a procrastinator…gosh, I think I am stumbling on the answer to the why me question, at least, in part. 

Hubs has a great metabolism and is able to pack in a lot of food and still looks pretty good.  He also burns a lot of calories with the amount of work he does around this house and yard in addition to his job.  Not so much me…mine comes more in spurts.  A few years ago my son lived here for a few months and brought with him a little dog that had to be walked on a leash.  That started some routine walking for me and when the little dog left, I realized how much exercise I got just walking that little girl in the yard.  One of the reasons I got my own little dog was to replace that activity besides being a sweet companion.

So, a controlled diet, regular meals and mealtimes, a bit of exercise … I am getting there.  It is hard for me to remember my medication and to take it at regular times…twelve hours apart and to be taken with a meal.  In order to get that accomplished, I have to get up and going, think about my cereal earlier, like at 7 or 7:30, and then 12 hours later, my dinner and night time medication, squeezing lunch and sometimes a snack in between. Guess who ends up not having a snack? Not nearly as important as it was when I sat in Megan's office and whined.  

Now, if I would also tackle my insomnia and get to sleep earlier, so I’d wake up earlier, so I’d eat my cereal earlier and take my medication…it’s not as easy as one thinks, you know? It’s years of habit we’re trying to change here, ladies and gentlemen.  

To be or not...is there a choice?

When a person such as myself, who is maybe a bit self-conscious about a few things, is diagnosed as a Type 2 Diabetic there is, for some, a feeling of guilt that creeps in.  Shouldn’t have eaten that cake or pie, should have paid more attention to my carbs and fats, should have, should have, should have.  It’s a little hammer on your head, making it hang lower and lower.  Oh sure, my doctor explained that it is lifestyle but is also genetics that plays such a large part…so? Am I to rail against my mom and dad now? Shake my fist in the air?

I tried to read as much as I could understand to answer my question “How did I get here?”  I couldn’t really get to an answer, though.  How is it that hubs can have ice cream or cookies every night and his blood sugar is fine?  One day, I saw two overweight adults, laughing away their afternoon.  I was a bit angry and thought “Why me? Why not them? Sure, I could weigh less but I am not THEM”.  Oh my.  That’s hateful, isn’t it? Forget that I have no idea what their medical issues might be but what in the world was in my head that I would even take that path?  Not my finest hour, by any means and I realized, quickly thank goodness, that my attitude was what was shameful.  If I had to be guilty of something, I certainly jumped both feet into that pile of pooh.    

My doc had suggested I speak to a dietician and at first, I delayed and deflected and approached the 2bee (that’s what I call it, and myself) as something I could manage and control without any further ado.  I was testing at home and doing okay.  Didn’t really want to talk about it or think about it, and certainly not speak to a dietician.  I was about six weeks in when I accepted I needed some guidance and called to make an appointment with a hospital dietician. 

I met with a lovely young woman named Megan.  She quickly dispelled some myths and misinformation.  I had been told to make sure I was getting protein at every meal by someone at the medical group; Megan said, more importantly…take note of your carbs, your protein will follow.  Eat balanced…let me show you a plate.  She was gentle, she was kind but firmly provided me the reasons I may want to eat differently than I had been.  I asked her about wine, which I like to have with dinner.  Her advice was to test before wine with dinner and after.  Then test on a night without wine with dinner, and after  ~ to see what it did.  Never once did she say “DON”T”.   I said “I have to give up cheese. I love cheese.” She said “Why would you give up cheese? Do you need to balance it? Maybe think about low fat cheese? Yes.  But give it up? No.”  

She explained my test results, rather than giving me numbers.  She helped me understand why I was testing at home, why my A1C was important and science, not magic, is why it can provide my results for the past 90 days. (In case you are wondering, it’s because your red blood cells live for about 90 days and that’s where the glucose or blood sugar is).

I came away from meeting with Megan with a better understanding, more education,  and so much less guilt.  I think everyone should meet with a dietician.  I seriously do.  It’s amazingly good information.

This is how it starts.

I am into a new month of being at home rather than at work in a full-time job.   I am newly, sorta, diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, and trying to incorporate exercise into my life. It's not all fun and games around here, but, I am getting through it and as is true in all situations in which a person wants to throw a small, and it is small, pity party, there are folks managing so much more than this.  While I have adjustments I am making, they are certainly majorly minor and overall, I feel really good.  I don't want to make it sound like I am not well...that's not the case. 

I am learning a few things and I have discovered another truth about yoga, my exercise of choice, now that I am on like day 5 - I can not bounce out of bed first thing and do any kind of yoga.  Even at my worst, with the exception of during pregnancies, I have been able to touch my toes.  I guess because I am low to the ground, but, I could always touch the floor.  But not now, not first thing in the morning.  My back just hasn't shown up.  Which, you know, forces you to remember who is in charge. 

So I am establishing a routine.  I walk around the house for a few minutes after waking, sort of gather my thoughts, check the weather, try to determine how I want the day to shape up.  After starting a cup of coffee and changing clothes, the little dog and I go outside and walk the yard.  Do my flowers need watering? What about that stick over there? Is that a stick? That kind of thing.  When we come back inside, I eat a bowl of cereal with fruit or juice and start planning my day.  Now, some of you might think "Plan your day? Plan your day. Seriously" Yes, I have to plan.  This just doesn't happen on its own, people...it's a machine. 

I do take a bit of time here.  When I worked outside the home, I was usually rushing, trying to choke down a bowl of cereal or a piece of toast, as the dietician reminded me, we should all try to have breakfast every day but its really important for us Type 2bees.  Okay, fine but while still working, all I could think is, how healthy can this be? I was not even sure I was chewing and I usually had at least part of whatever I was eating go out the door with me.  Since I have afforded myself the time, I take the time with breakfast.  I look out at my glorious view and plan my day. 

Yoga will come in late morning, when my back joins me.     

Who me? That can't be right.

Along with starting to take medication for the ol' blood sugar issue, and leaving my full time, out in the real world, job in which I walked up and down a flight of stairs about 20 times a day, I determined I should try some form of exercise.  My doc will be so proud.  

I have given this a lot of thought.  What form of exercise is right for me? I've never been too exercise driven - was a tiny little kid and young woman who learned late in life that doesn't stick with ya.  Ya gotta earn it. And really, gaining 40 or 50 or 60 pounds with a baby is not a good idea.  It just isn't.  Eating too much processed food, fried food and dairy when you are a teenager and young adult comes back to haunt you in ways that would scare a ghoul.  These are all lessons you learn at oh, about 53.  No, I'm not claiming to be 53 but I procrastinate.

I settled on yoga.  Now, I will not be purchasing any fancy clothes or signing up for classes any time real soon.  I have to admit I was veering away from yoga as the people I know who practice yoga seem to share a secret or something, like they are in some private club and to be frank, yoga seemed kind of snooty in some ways....and too mystical, too many chimes.  Except  then I met my daughter-in-law who is in no way shape or form snooty and who also seems to always be having a grand ol' time.  I've also witnessed her get in great shape over the last year; she's worked hard, yes, but she has had fun doing so.   

I found a video online that is very straightforward and not mystical at all.  It's a tough old workout in someways.  I've done it for a few days now and, here's the bad part, yoga uses your body for resistance.  So its my weight I'm working against, and that is not a joy, trust me on this. Then there's the whole balance thing.  You know that hippo in the tutu in Fantasia? Looks like there's no way she could be on her toes? That's how I feel when I'm trying to balance.  I've only been at it for a couple days and here is what I can say, to date...I have not reached nirvana or whatever and I am s.o.r.e. in places I didn't know I had.  Even my fingertips hurt.  It's like the decoder ring we use to get in cereal..Y=S, O=O, G=R, A=E.

More on this later, I promise.