"in spite of illness, in spite even of the arch-enemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things and happy in small ones" Edith Wharton.
"I've come to understand that I am as unfinished as the shoreline along the beach. If you stand on the sand and watch wave after wave, each leaves the beach looking just a little different. So it is with people---we are all unfinished and meant to transcend ourselves again and again throughout a lifetime." Joan Anderson
I totally agree with the above wise statements.
I discovered last week that I've lost three pounds in the last two months, which is a somewhat phyrric victory, as I've also been sick with Crohns flares nearly every day for the past three months. I've had to take naprosin and percoset to keep the pain at bay, and that always depresses me. But I've kept to my exercise regimen of working out 5-6 times a week and trying not to eat too much sugar, as well as consuming carbs in moderation. I've failed at that several times, mainly because I love sugar and bread, and, as my diet is so limited with the excising of dairy, eggs, nuts, mushrooms, onions and strawberries, I always feel that I need to have something to eat that has sweetness or some kind of flavor that I enjoy. Hubby brought home a loaf of fresh country bread from Great Harvest Bakery and I consumed half the loaf with Smart Balance Lite margerine and all fruit jam lickety split, within an hour. I was groaning as my gut expanded all that bread during balls and weights class, though....Janice and Carol had the last laugh as I nearly barfed on the gym floor.
Since my husbands contract ended Friday, our insurance is due to run out tomorrow, and I called the doctors office asking them to call in my Crohns meds ASAP so that I could still get a supply while the insurance was intact. Bartell Pharmacy refused to fill the prescription before my insurance runs out, though, and as my gastro doc is out of town for three weeks, the doctor on call said he doesn't feel that he can change the prescription so that I can get my meds for the insurance-covered price, which is affordable. Pentasa has no generic, and my other Crohns med is still expensive without insurance. Yet my husband kept hissing at me that the pharmacists had no right to know that we were without insurance in a few days. I contend that they'd find out anyway, when they contacted the company and were refused payment on my prescription. So I am screwed when my pills run out, as I can't afford to buy them without insurance. Of course, my son chose that moment to say he felt ill, and was certain he had a cold. I'm equally certain he is just riddled with allergy because he's been cuddling and caring for a scrofulous old cat with one eye that has lived in this neighborhood for years and is skinny enough to garner sympathy from an eight year old boy. Because Nick gave this old cat tuna and hot dogs and milk and whatever else he could procure from our pantry, the cat now thinks he belongs in our house. Eww. And Nick is all stuffed up, wheezing and sneezing with eyes all red and itchy because he can't seem to keep his hands off the ugliest cat in Christendom. So I had to deal with my husbands outrage at the pharmacy and my sons whining and sniffling while simultaneously trying to convince the pharmacist that I need my medications now. It was not pleasant.
However, I did find a tea set at a garage sale, and I plan on going to visit my good friend Janine this weekend, so there is light on the horizon, and the day isn't a total waste yet.
I am hoping to get a nice walk in on Monday, which is labor day, and I will have to walk to Nicks school on Tuesday just to schlep all his extra supplies to his classroom.
Here's to hoping for some bona fortuna coming up in September, when my stepfather turns 90!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Crohn's Groans
As I sit in pain on the toilet for hours everyday with Crohn's flares, I've had time to contemplate a number of things about life, the universe and my gut.
I find myself wondering if, for example, the spasms that wrack my intestines would hurt as badly if I had a flat stomach, rippling with a 4-pack (*a six pack is too much to hope for at my age).I've noticed that if I hold in my gut muscles, it sometimes helps subdue the waves of pain that I have during a flare.
How do people whose diets consist mainly of rice and beans, those gas producing legumes, manage their Crohns? Do they just break wind a lot after bloating up, or does their body become accustomed to it and not react that way?
Why would anyone want to become a colo-rectal surgeon? Why would anyone dig being a gastroenterologist,for that matter? Yuck. All you deal with all day is butts and guts. How does one acquire granulomas in your gut lining, and why won't they heal up or go away? Why can't surgeons just cut the fat off ones liver, ones belly, ones breasts? Does it actually serve any purpose other than storage of hormones and vitamins?
I often take the time to revise song lyrics to fit the situation while I'm in the restroom. I sing "Pain of Fools" instead of Chain of Fools, Take a piece of my gut, instead of take a piece of my heart, etc. I also hum songs that I find inspirational, like Natasha Bedingfields "Unwritten" and Celine Dions "Because You Loved Me" because they give me hope that the pain will be short lived. I practice breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth in big breaths, and I concentrate on 'surfing' the wave of pain, letting it flow through me. I read books or magazines that are beautiful, and I sometimes light a candle as a form of prayer, to let God know that I am not going to let the suffering conquer me. I use a heating pad on the left side of my belly, where it hurts the most, and often that soothes me to sleep after I've taken all the anti-spasmotics and pain pills that I can safely consume.
Crohns stinks, both literally and figuratively, but when I have a day or even a week without pain, and I make it through an exercise class when I didn't feel well, I know I've triumphed over a disease that has crashed many a colon.
I find myself wondering if, for example, the spasms that wrack my intestines would hurt as badly if I had a flat stomach, rippling with a 4-pack (*a six pack is too much to hope for at my age).I've noticed that if I hold in my gut muscles, it sometimes helps subdue the waves of pain that I have during a flare.
How do people whose diets consist mainly of rice and beans, those gas producing legumes, manage their Crohns? Do they just break wind a lot after bloating up, or does their body become accustomed to it and not react that way?
Why would anyone want to become a colo-rectal surgeon? Why would anyone dig being a gastroenterologist,for that matter? Yuck. All you deal with all day is butts and guts. How does one acquire granulomas in your gut lining, and why won't they heal up or go away? Why can't surgeons just cut the fat off ones liver, ones belly, ones breasts? Does it actually serve any purpose other than storage of hormones and vitamins?
I often take the time to revise song lyrics to fit the situation while I'm in the restroom. I sing "Pain of Fools" instead of Chain of Fools, Take a piece of my gut, instead of take a piece of my heart, etc. I also hum songs that I find inspirational, like Natasha Bedingfields "Unwritten" and Celine Dions "Because You Loved Me" because they give me hope that the pain will be short lived. I practice breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth in big breaths, and I concentrate on 'surfing' the wave of pain, letting it flow through me. I read books or magazines that are beautiful, and I sometimes light a candle as a form of prayer, to let God know that I am not going to let the suffering conquer me. I use a heating pad on the left side of my belly, where it hurts the most, and often that soothes me to sleep after I've taken all the anti-spasmotics and pain pills that I can safely consume.
Crohns stinks, both literally and figuratively, but when I have a day or even a week without pain, and I make it through an exercise class when I didn't feel well, I know I've triumphed over a disease that has crashed many a colon.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
The Wheels on the Bike Go Round and Round
So spin is beginning to suck, mainly because there is so much of it. There's no other classes in the evening, besides Pilates and Balls and Weights on Wednesdays (and the occaisional yoga class, but I just do NOT do yoga...can't twist this Winne the Pooh body into those positions, sorry), so if I want to get any exercise in, I just have to hop on a bike and feel the pain of my aching ass and my cramping colon as I spin round and round on that ugly yellow stationary bike for the millionth time. Angela and Laura are the only teachers we have left, as Danielle seems to have flown the coop, and Billie is on vacation until the end of August.
Despite her sweet Cindy Lou Who/Kelly Clarkson face, Angela is a very tough instructor who can totally kick your butt (and abs, and glutes and thighs) in 55 minutes. Having faced down cancer 4 times in her young life (she's only 31), she's fearless, and refuses to give quarter to old bloated ninnies like me who have weak knees, fat bellies and horrible hemeroids.
Add to this the stress of having a three month long Crohns flare, an early end to my husbands contract at Microsoft, a bored 8-year-old who only wants to eat junk food all day and play with his buddies (who are all wiling away the days in expensive sports camps), hubbys emergency root canal and subsequent consuming of mass quantities of percoset and beer, two editors throwing an assignment back in my face because "no one in our demographic reads anymore" and binging on three dozen homemade lemon vegan cookies, and you have my disastrous life this past week. My husband is a nervous, whining wreak, my son is pudgy and bored, and I am gripping onto the ledge of my sanity for all I am worth, with faith in God and hope for the future of the people I love. Oh, and the brakes are going out on the car, which has a cracked windshield and a broken drivers side window. We don't have the money to have the brakes fixed, so I can only assume we're going to end up in some terrible auto accident that will hopefully not be fatal one of these days.
Other than that, things are fine, and you?
One of the few bright spots this week was a freelance friend of mine, Dana, who hasn't seen me in a year was amazed at how much weight I've lost, and told me "You look great!"
So my 5-6 times a week workout has had some results. I am still 60 pounds too heavy, but I am much firmer than I was a year and a half ago. I also feel like the gals at the WIO gym are so supportive and caring that I've got friends who will listen and understand my dilemas no matter how ridiculous or awful they are. And I can look forward to the fall, when my son will be back in school for 5 hours a day, so I can take walks, plus there will be a new, beefier schedule at the gym, and more classes to choose from. Instructors will return from vacation and there will be new instructors, which is a blessing, as no two teachers teach alike, which is good for our muscles.
This whole year has been a beast, but as we fall into the final third of the annus horribilus, let us hope that something has been learned, ties deepened and that Gods plan, unknowable to us, has been unfolding, as it should.
Despite her sweet Cindy Lou Who/Kelly Clarkson face, Angela is a very tough instructor who can totally kick your butt (and abs, and glutes and thighs) in 55 minutes. Having faced down cancer 4 times in her young life (she's only 31), she's fearless, and refuses to give quarter to old bloated ninnies like me who have weak knees, fat bellies and horrible hemeroids.
Add to this the stress of having a three month long Crohns flare, an early end to my husbands contract at Microsoft, a bored 8-year-old who only wants to eat junk food all day and play with his buddies (who are all wiling away the days in expensive sports camps), hubbys emergency root canal and subsequent consuming of mass quantities of percoset and beer, two editors throwing an assignment back in my face because "no one in our demographic reads anymore" and binging on three dozen homemade lemon vegan cookies, and you have my disastrous life this past week. My husband is a nervous, whining wreak, my son is pudgy and bored, and I am gripping onto the ledge of my sanity for all I am worth, with faith in God and hope for the future of the people I love. Oh, and the brakes are going out on the car, which has a cracked windshield and a broken drivers side window. We don't have the money to have the brakes fixed, so I can only assume we're going to end up in some terrible auto accident that will hopefully not be fatal one of these days.
Other than that, things are fine, and you?
One of the few bright spots this week was a freelance friend of mine, Dana, who hasn't seen me in a year was amazed at how much weight I've lost, and told me "You look great!"
So my 5-6 times a week workout has had some results. I am still 60 pounds too heavy, but I am much firmer than I was a year and a half ago. I also feel like the gals at the WIO gym are so supportive and caring that I've got friends who will listen and understand my dilemas no matter how ridiculous or awful they are. And I can look forward to the fall, when my son will be back in school for 5 hours a day, so I can take walks, plus there will be a new, beefier schedule at the gym, and more classes to choose from. Instructors will return from vacation and there will be new instructors, which is a blessing, as no two teachers teach alike, which is good for our muscles.
This whole year has been a beast, but as we fall into the final third of the annus horribilus, let us hope that something has been learned, ties deepened and that Gods plan, unknowable to us, has been unfolding, as it should.
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