Tag Archives: dogs

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Happy Birthday To Me!

Today, I turn 40 years of age. We have a big day planned. We’re going to the beach with the dogs. We’re going to throw the ball and walk in the sand and let them chase birds. They haven’t been to the beach since last summer when E. was visiting and I still had some energy.

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I’m not going to go to bed afterward. Instead, I’m going to stop by the grocery store and buy all the fixin’s for a fry tomorrow morning: eggs, bacon, sausages, bread, tomato, proper cow’s milk for proper tea… I might even look for decent baked beans and black pudding. Then, this evening, I am going to take a shower, wash my hair and put on make up for the first time in 9 months (gasp!). I am going to put on a dress ~ it is beautiful and still fits me and I feel sexy ~ and some very high heels ~ I’m able to walk in them properly, without shuffling, and they don’t hurt my back. We’re going into town for dinner, meeting up with friends and family. It’s going to be a long 5-course indulgence and I’m going to ignore all my diet rules. I am going to rip apart fresh-baked bread, taking the time to inhale its aroma before slathering on creamy butter and savouring every bite. I am going to close my eyes every time I take a bite of pasta ~ I don’t care what kind it is ~ and be fully present in that moment, witnessing every chew with all my senses on full-alert. I am going to order the most decadent dessert, something with pastry and chocolate ~ eggs, sugar, flour, butter ~ and revel in every single mouthful: no guilt, no worry, no blood sugar issues, no inflammation issues, no intolerances or allergies or leaky gut or bowel dysbiosis or nausea. There better be a cheese plate involved at some stage and I might even have some wine. Dry red wine. A whole bottle. Maybe I’ll sneak outside to share a cigarette with someone. We’re all going to talk over each other and laugh hysterically and the noise won’t bother me. I won’t be confused and overloaded by too many conversations at once. I won’t think about pain or exhaustion or how I will sleep tonight or how I will feel tomorrow. Because I will feel fine. I will feel tired and happy and full and grateful. Oh, and tomorrow morning, while eating that lovely breakfast, I will realise I’ve won the $600 million lotto.

Well, a girl can dream, right?

No, unfortunately, today will be like every other day. It’ll be a little bit worse than the norm because my sleep vanished this week and I’m crippled with new muscle pain on top of the old stiff exhaustion. But, it’ll be a little bit better than the norm because my sister is coming over and my husband isn’t working. Three people and three dogs? It’ll be a carnival compared to my usual still, silent days.

Goodbye 30s, you actually were literally the best of times and the worst of times. I have three birthday wishes for this new decade: Continued good health for those I love, better health for me and relief from suffering for all people and animals on this earth. That’s not too much to ask, is it? 🙂

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May 18th, 1973

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Dog Days Are Over

Yesterday, I was finally going to write an exciting update about my strength returning, my one good night’s sleep, and the lovely sunny day, but then this happened: I decided to throw the ball for the dogs for the first time since March. They have been starved for Mama play time, so I reasoned a few throws were my first choice over stretches or walking laps around the garden.

One would think that in my sickly state these throws would be pathetically weak, but I’m using a Chuck-it and an extra large squeaker ball and I’m giving it my all because I know I only have a few throws in me. But this Chuck-it is huge and we don’t have enough space and it is always tricky to get a decent lob. Well, my first attempt, flung with all my effort, drilled directly down in front of me instead of in a nice arch away from me… and bore straight into my big beautiful brown-eyed baby’s eye.

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This dog doesn’t cry or yelp ever. He injured his back and never made a peep, he just shivered and drooled and couldn’t walk. But the tennis ball today made him cry out and then bolt and kind of run around confused, tail tucked, not knowing where to go. When I got close to him, all I saw was red inside his eye orbit. It looked like his eyeball had been driven back into his head or flipped backwards or something. I had the house locked up, his leash on, my shoes on, my car keys in my hand and my husband on the phone in seconds. I said, “I’m going to the vet. My phone is dead. I need you to call and make sure someone can see him now.” My husband said, “Do you have the strength to do that?” I stopped and sat down on the front steps. I hadn’t even thought about whether I could manage. It wasn’t until I then-when I became still- that I felt the adrenalin like a tidal wave through my body. My legs were jelly, my hands were shaking. I glanced at my heart rate monitor: 125. “I’ll find the strength,” I said. But as I looked at my dog, I realised the red I saw in his eye socket was the inner lid – it’d been completely covering the eyeball and the effect was gruesome. Now that it had retracted halfway and I could see his pretty brown iris, I calmed. The vet could wait until my husband got home.

As I write this, the world is spinning. I haven’t had acute emergency-type stress in my life (luckily) in so long and the feeling is alien. I was mowed over by a speeding epinephrine train and I realised four things:

1. I would be able to handle an emergency. I would be able to mine down deep into my cells for the resources necessary to fight off danger or rescue my loved ones or whatever might crop up… The question is what would (will) the physical ramifications be in the days that follow.

2. I lived with a chronic case of that stress response for YEARS in my job. The feeling was all too familiar. I used to never turn off. There was always a crisis, always a problem, always a fire to be put out (figuratively, not actually, thankfully). And, when there wasn’t an immediate concern, I was looking for one that hadn’t been discovered yet, so I wouldn’t be blindsided. It was a constant stomach queaze, the dull adrenal hum of my sympathetic nervous system stuck in hyper-vigilance, anticipating the next restaurant catastrophe.

3. I, myself, created a lot of that intense stress by being a controlling perfectionist who holds herself to unreachable standards and unsustainable responsibilities. And I still do. It takes work to not blame yourself for getting sick and it takes practice to let yourself off the hook for not getting better. It takes restraint to not take care of the house and it takes discipline to not forge ahead with the life you always wanted. And I try every day to forgive myself for not being the employee, friend, sister, daughter, wife I want to be.

4. I miss it. I miss crisis management and learning how to fix a problem and finding out how to do it better in the future. I miss being an honest adviser, without judgment. I miss jumping into action, making mistakes, figuring it out. I miss being the one that doesn’t need help ~ being the rock and the confidant and the reality check for those I love. I’m kind of sick of calm, quiet, peaceful boredom. I thrive on excitement and stress ~ as long as it is a positive atmosphere and a supportive team with a for-the-greater-good outcome. I knew I should have been an emergency room doctor.

Gratitude for the day: no orbital fracture or scratched cornea or dislodged eyeball. Just some pain and spooked tail-tucking. My pup is okay. But the sunny days are over for a while.

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BHA, Parfum and Triclosan, Oh My!

I am changing all the toiletries I use. I’ve always used Dove soap on my body and Simple face wash followed by fragrance-free Moisturel. I switched to Tom’s of Maine deodorant a few years ago after a lecture from my husband about aluminum in antiperspirants (“I don’t like not sweating”, he said). So, I’ve managed to use fairly decent products, but only because I can’t stand the smell of most of them, not because I was trying to be healthier and keep bad guys off my skin and out of my body.

Well, I’ve been reading Food Babe’s blog for a while and I trust her research (she is obsessive about avoiding toxic products to the point that, for example, she won’t use the cleaning products at her gym. I, on the other hand, have spent the vast majority of my days with my hands soaked in bleach ~ such is the life of restaurant/bar workers ~ and I’ve never looked twice (actually not even once) at the ingredients in the cleaning products I use in my home). After reading this post and this one, I looked up some of the products she recommends and, if I buy them online rather than have my husband pick them up at the local drug store, they aren’t really any more expensive than my normal choices. So, what do I have to lose?

Here is what I ordered and I’ll let you know how I like them (sister-in-law, J: I thought you might like some of these) [I just realised I have two sisters-in-law with names starting with J. I was talking to J.K., although maybe J.B. likes these sort of products, too!]:

  • Kiss My Face Bar Soap -Pure Olive Oil [update: love it, but these bars are HUGE ~ even my husband’s huge hands have a hard time holding on to them; it slipped from his grip and hit his foot and really hurt it! Also, he’s not a fan of how slimy it is.]
  • Kiss My Face Moisture Soap Liquid Fragrance Free [update: love it]
  • Kiss My Face Moisture Shave Fragrance Free
  • Avalon Organics Hand & Body Lotion – Unscented Aloe [update: love it, although, if you put it on right before bed, you kind of stick to the sheets even though it feels like it has been totally absorbed… Kind of odd]
  • Avalon Organic CoQ10 Facial Cleansing Creme [update: GAG! Warning! This is VERY VERY LAVENDER-Y and citrusy! Even if you like lavender (which I don’t), this might be too much for you.]
  • Avalon Organics Shampoo-Tea Tree Mint [update: love it, but, like so many “healthy” shampoos, it does not froth up the way typical shampoos do ~ just something you have to get used to.]
  • Avalon Organics Conditioner-Tea Tree Mint [update: love it]
  • Yerba Prima Natural Skin Brush [update: love it]

I bought them all from vitaminlife.com, which seemed to have some of the cheapest prices (Amazon does, too, but many seem to come in multipacks and I didn’t want to commit to three bottles of shaving cream when I don’t even know whether I like it yet).

To be clear, I don’t think this will have any effect whatsoever on my illness, but, once you start making changes like filtered water, air purifiers, healthier cooking oil, and antibiotic-free/grass-fed/free-range/organic/hormone-free/care-free/well-socialized meat (please watch this Portlandia clip ~ honestly not too far from the truth in this corner of the country!), the clean attitude just seeps into other areas of your life. Except your dogs. Somehow, no matter how many times I demonstrate and lecture, they will not wipe their paws at the door before coming inside.

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all the logic and language and loss

I was hoping to start feeling better again before I wrote anything, but this downturn is lasting longer than I thought it would. It’s not horrific. I’m not confined to the bed or couch, but, I’m not walking in the garden or doing my stretches ~ my two forms of activity. I’m basically just shuffling around the house, very Tin Man. Easter was the beginning of the slump, with symptoms aggravated by a teeth cleaning last week. I had been putting it off for a few months, thinking it was not a smart expenditure of energy, but, when I was having my good week, I made an appointment.

I looked online beforehand, but I couldn’t find any firsthand accounts of the ramifications of teeth cleanings on people with ME. Unfortunately, I can’t really give an accurate account because I compounded the effects by ~ I know, I’m an idiot ~ driving myself downtown to the appointment and chatting way too much to the hygienist because I wanted to fill her in on my situation (I’ve been going to the same dental clinic for over a decade).

I thought the drive would be straightforward and I didn’t want to ask my husband to take the day off work. Big mistake. Again. The problems started while I was walking from the elevators to the dental office. My heart rate was over 120 bpm and I had to stop walking repeatedly. This was a short hallway and I felt ridiculous stopping every two steps to wait for my heart to calm down. I wasn’t nervous about the appointment, so I think it was because I was carrying my purse… That’s my theory. The cleaning itself was fine. I asked her to be very gentle and skip the floss. The worst part was coming back upright after being tipped fully head-down in the chair for so long. But I recovered quickly from the momentary vertigo and went home.

That night I was curled in a ball on the kitchen floor, crying, feeling like I was dying, dogs swarming around me, wondering what was wrong. I told my husband, “Never let me drive downtown again, no matter how strong I say I’m feeling.” I tried to figure out the reason: Was it because I drove too far again? Or because my heart was running full steam? Or because I talked too much? Or the after-effects of the position I was in ~ akin to a tilt-table test? Or the actual cleaning ~ the release of bacteria, the micro-abrasions? I’m always trying to tease apart cause and effect, but there are too many confounding variables and logic doesn’t lend itself to this disease. Logically, with more rest and more sleep, with a better diet and fewer toxins, with less stress and more mindful awareness, I should be feeling better than I ever have. But my temperance is obviously outweighed by the marauding lifestyle of my viral invaders and the intemperate rage of my immune system.

Happily, my hygienist said she thought it would be fine to push my next cleaning out a year since I am taking such good care of my teeth. There is nothing like a chronic illness to get you to floss every day and never go without your mouth guard ~ I don’t want any preventable problems complicating my current situation.

I didn’t feel as bad the next day, but then my period came. This is now my fourth almost-painless period since coming off the pill in December and, believe you me, I am rejoicing every minute of fearless, crampless menstruation. I spent SO many years dreading the monthly… planning my life around it… so, this positive change in my body does not go unnoticed. However, the ME/CFS symptoms definitely flare up each month ~ the usual uterine pain has just walked around to my lower back. And my coccyx: the absolute southern-most point of my spine is killing me. That baffles me.

Since getting my period, I have had a headache. I haven’t had a headache in so long ~ especially one that goes to sleep with me and is still there when I wake. I’m not happy with this bedfellow ~ I was hoping, since the husband and dogs have been relegated to different beds, I would only be sleeping with the dust mites that could survive my weekly washing ~ so, again, I’m trying to analyse the cause: Is the headache from my period? The new Seriphos supplement? The new licorice tea? Pollen allergies? Neck tension? Bad sleep? But, all other symptoms have increased, too: I’ve had more of the usual inflamed, painful, stiff muscles. The hot/cold issues. Feeling like I’m coming down with something… sore throat … you all know the deal. And I had two nights of slight night sweats. This struck the fear of god into me. Besides the muscle issues and heavy dragging exhaustion, these are symptoms that had left me. Yesterday, I started begging aloud: Please don’t let it come back, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE...

For a few months I have been watching the texture of my skin change. It’s bumpy ~ different than anything I’ve experienced in 40 years. I was convinced it was my extremely high-fat diet, so I ignored it. Who cares? I have bigger fish to fry. But it’s getting steadily more alarming and during these last few weeks of hormonal fluctuations, it has bloomed into an acne-braille mash-up that, when coupled with the lack of muscle tone, weight gain, sleep-deprived eyes, thin hair showing a year’s worth of grown out roots (with so much grey!), has me recoiling from mirrors. I told my doctor that I felt like that scene in The Exorcist where the skin on the girl’s stomach spells out “help me“. It was like the needle slid across the record… The Good Doctor and her trainee internist looked at me with heads cocked and eyebrows furrowed and I could hear the clock’s second hand ticking around… “Oh, nevermind,” I said. “I just mean my body is trying to tell me something.” My point was, there has to be a logical explanation. My body is pushing  from the inside out into every pore and I should be able to read its message. I should, after all these years, know its language.

So creepy... So sorry.

So creepy… So sorry.

A few happy notes to help get that image out of your head: our Cherry Blossom tree is in full bloom, raining salubrious pink petals all over the garden. My sleep is ever so slightly better. I’m starting Chinese herbs next week and will probably add back legumes to my diet after that. I managed to organise all of our finances for tax time. My husband’s sleep apnea is nothing to worry about. A bird just hopped by my window with a tuft of what was obviously my dog’s golden hair held in its beak and I’m thrilled to think, after how much he has terrorised them, that his fur will do a little community service in a nest somewhere. My friend Z. and her beautiful baby girl came to visit yesterday. My family is healthy. And Game of Thrones has started.

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