Here's one of my realities - I could be a blind person before I die. I suppose that is true for anyone. I know of a guy who got hit in the eye with a paintball (a total accident and bad timing) and his eyesight was touch and go for awhile. I also know of a guy who in his early twenties just suddenly lost his sight in both eyes. But I guess the odds are just a little higher for me than the average person, having the diabetic retinopathy and my history of eye surgeries.
I can't imagine not being able to see the latest fall fashions or those bad 80's outfits some women (and men!) are still stuck in. And what about me?! Who would dress me in the morning? My husband has great fashion sense when it comes to what looks good on women, but he goes to work everyday. I have visions (ha!) of putting on a soft-pink frilly skirt and mistaking my black silk tank for a neon orange one. Not cool. And if I think picking my outfit would be hard...what about my face!? You can't "feel" color. I would be living in my own makeup "blind spot". Now I will be wearing the pink skirt, neon orange tank, probably green flats instead of my black ones AND purple and blue makeup! Oh dear. This could be disastrous.
But I had one of my "moments in time" I always speak of at the U2 concert. As I mentioned in an earlier post, there were times when I had to shut my eyes due to vertigo (ha! get it?). But for serious...it was a dizzying experience. And I mentioned how the music just moved right through me. As I was in the midst of this euphoria, I realized that being blind wouldn't be all bad. Blindness cannot silence the music. The music in my mind, heart and soul can only be conquered by death. (And then...who really cares right? ;)
So, I may look a little awkward if this eye disease of mine takes over. (If you see that pathetic outfit I described wandering aimlessly in the streets, you'll know what happened and that it's me. Hey! Maybe that's how I will get to meet some of you! ;) But I will always have music. Even if my ears fall off and my mind goes a little crazy in my old age...I will still feel the music.
And what more could I ask for? :)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Night of a Lifetime
I was just at the biggest concert I could ever go to last night. And by "biggest" I mean it in every sense of the word. You guessed it. U2 at the stadium. And it was fantastic!
First of all, let's talk about what people wear to a concert of that magnitude. I personally opted for comfort and warmth since we were in the upper balcony and had to climb the dizzying ramp all the way up. I was amazed though at how many women wore tiny jackets and even tinier high heels, even though climbing that same ramp. I will admit, I felt a little shlumpy in my sketchers and fleece, but once the sun went down and it cooled off, I think I was the one to be jealous of. Plus, once the music starts, who cares what you are wearing. It was U2!!!!
I did have a minor amount of stress walking the mile from out parking spot, over a fence and up the ramp at the stadium since I was having a bad leg day. (I get random muscle pain and also realized I am not fully recovered from surgery.) It didn't help that I fell down two steps in the restaurant right before, after having supper with friends. Let's just say it was a jarring experience and leave it at that. So, there was not quite as much dancing on my part as I would have liked. (Did I mention the low blood sugar at the bottom of the ramp? Not cool.)
It must have been confusing for the woman at the gate checking my bag as she pulled out a diet drink, almonds, a chocolate bar and a baggy full of my night time meds. She was going to confiscate the drink and nuts until I pulled the diabetes card and convinced her I couldn't eat or drink anything they were offering. After getting special permission to keep the "there's absolutely no way I can let you keep that drink" drink, she threw the nuts back into my purse as a freebie as well. See? There are perks to having diabetes!
The stage was amazing, but I will admit I felt a little brain over-stimulation a few times from the spinning and flashing bright lights. (Thank goodness I took motion sickness meds first.) But when that happened I just closed my eyes and let the music move through me. That was almost the highlight of the evening. (Except then I couldn't watch what Bono and The Edge were doing.) U2's music simply touches the soul and washes over you in an unspeakable way. I could try to explain further but I don't want to risk cheapening it with words.
"Stay" was my musical favorite of the night and the words are remarkably powerful as well. They're the kind that make you think, and that's one of the things that makes a good song great.
Once again I am thankful that I am still able to attend concerts, climb over fences (although it wasn't pretty ;) and see well enough to mostly know what's going on.
Thanks Bono and the team, for an outstanding moment in time that I will never forget.
I hope I can "Stay" in that moment for a long time to come.
First of all, let's talk about what people wear to a concert of that magnitude. I personally opted for comfort and warmth since we were in the upper balcony and had to climb the dizzying ramp all the way up. I was amazed though at how many women wore tiny jackets and even tinier high heels, even though climbing that same ramp. I will admit, I felt a little shlumpy in my sketchers and fleece, but once the sun went down and it cooled off, I think I was the one to be jealous of. Plus, once the music starts, who cares what you are wearing. It was U2!!!!
I did have a minor amount of stress walking the mile from out parking spot, over a fence and up the ramp at the stadium since I was having a bad leg day. (I get random muscle pain and also realized I am not fully recovered from surgery.) It didn't help that I fell down two steps in the restaurant right before, after having supper with friends. Let's just say it was a jarring experience and leave it at that. So, there was not quite as much dancing on my part as I would have liked. (Did I mention the low blood sugar at the bottom of the ramp? Not cool.)
It must have been confusing for the woman at the gate checking my bag as she pulled out a diet drink, almonds, a chocolate bar and a baggy full of my night time meds. She was going to confiscate the drink and nuts until I pulled the diabetes card and convinced her I couldn't eat or drink anything they were offering. After getting special permission to keep the "there's absolutely no way I can let you keep that drink" drink, she threw the nuts back into my purse as a freebie as well. See? There are perks to having diabetes!
The stage was amazing, but I will admit I felt a little brain over-stimulation a few times from the spinning and flashing bright lights. (Thank goodness I took motion sickness meds first.) But when that happened I just closed my eyes and let the music move through me. That was almost the highlight of the evening. (Except then I couldn't watch what Bono and The Edge were doing.) U2's music simply touches the soul and washes over you in an unspeakable way. I could try to explain further but I don't want to risk cheapening it with words.
"Stay" was my musical favorite of the night and the words are remarkably powerful as well. They're the kind that make you think, and that's one of the things that makes a good song great.
Once again I am thankful that I am still able to attend concerts, climb over fences (although it wasn't pretty ;) and see well enough to mostly know what's going on.
Thanks Bono and the team, for an outstanding moment in time that I will never forget.
I hope I can "Stay" in that moment for a long time to come.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Ballerina Style
I was observing a style the other day while having coffee with myself at a restaurant. (I often take my notebooks and work on my novel or write music while I sip.) Anyway, I was admiring the hairdo on my server, knowing it was styled in a way I will never be able to pull off. She had the tight bun with every morsel of hair pulled into it on the top of her head. I call it "ballerina style". This translates to a whole look by the way. Tight bun, tight body, tight clothes and a fru fru tulle skirt. (Well you might not want to wear the fru fru tu tu while shopping the mall but if you've got the moves, go for it. ;)
Some people pull off the ballerina style really well, as did my waitress. She was cute and small and everything looked tight.
I will probably never look as tight as a princess in "Swan Lake" (Are there princesses in Swan Lake?), but I can set out to achieve tight control in another area of my life. (Unfortunately "Spanx" won't help me here.) My blood sugar control is the area I speak of.
As with many different complications of diabetes, tight control of blood glucose levels is the only really effective way to fight against them. Lately I have been losing feeling of my toes (on the outside of my skin which causes pain on the inside). The doctor confirmed that it is getting worse. Not cool.
And other than the medication I am already on, my best course of defense is to tighten, tighten, tighten. (My abs and glutes could use a little of this "defense" as well ;)
So, I think from now on, I will aim for "ballerina style" when it comes to this disease of mine. Like I said before...I'll never pull off the tight bun look, but I'm pretty sure I could wear those tight blood sugars well.
Perhaps I shall go test right now... ;)
Some people pull off the ballerina style really well, as did my waitress. She was cute and small and everything looked tight.
I will probably never look as tight as a princess in "Swan Lake" (Are there princesses in Swan Lake?), but I can set out to achieve tight control in another area of my life. (Unfortunately "Spanx" won't help me here.) My blood sugar control is the area I speak of.
As with many different complications of diabetes, tight control of blood glucose levels is the only really effective way to fight against them. Lately I have been losing feeling of my toes (on the outside of my skin which causes pain on the inside). The doctor confirmed that it is getting worse. Not cool.
And other than the medication I am already on, my best course of defense is to tighten, tighten, tighten. (My abs and glutes could use a little of this "defense" as well ;)
So, I think from now on, I will aim for "ballerina style" when it comes to this disease of mine. Like I said before...I'll never pull off the tight bun look, but I'm pretty sure I could wear those tight blood sugars well.
Perhaps I shall go test right now... ;)
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Showing Some Skin
The other day, I was flipping through a fashion magazine and came across an ad for Chanel. The model was sporting a look that I haven't seen in a very long time (except possibly on men) and it was extremely memorable. She was wearing suspenders. I know, right? Suspenders! And I don't think it had anything to do with a need to hold up her pants under a ponchy belly. No, she was "model" thin.
I'm not sure if seeing that ad was inspiring or disturbing. I mean...could I pull off the suspender look today? If so, I might wear them a little differently than she did though. Like wear a shirt underneath them perhaps! Talk about strategic placement. No, I'm not 100% sure that would be a good look for me.
I wonder if models inwardly squirm even after their 420th photo shoot consisting of those "suspenders only" kind of shots. Or do they just think about the fake wind blowing through their hair (that must be cold!) or how uncomfortable the one-size-too-small $450 red patent leather heels their feet are crammed into feel. {sigh} It's a tough cross to bear.
But seriously, I think there is some validity to vulnerability. As squirmy as it feels to open up and bare our souls, I still think we need each other. Sure, we need to be choosy as to who we trust with our inner-most struggles and insecurities, but once we've found a few chosen people, the benefits for all concerned can be huge.
I've learned that when it comes to my diabetes, I need to have accountability to stay strong enough to battle the daily temptations. I have goals, and sometimes I need to be reminded of those goals. Whether it be an improved A1C (basically your average blood sugar over 3 months) or choosing to exercise harder, it's good to let the people that love me, encourage me to reach those goals the best I can.
So, I doubt that you will see me walking around with only 2 strategically placed 1-inch wide elastics on my chest, but I believe there is a time and place to feel a little naked.
So instead of "showing some skin", I think I will stay covered and when appropriate, get the help I need by showing what's under the skin instead.
Besides...who likes to be cold? ;)
I'm not sure if seeing that ad was inspiring or disturbing. I mean...could I pull off the suspender look today? If so, I might wear them a little differently than she did though. Like wear a shirt underneath them perhaps! Talk about strategic placement. No, I'm not 100% sure that would be a good look for me.
I wonder if models inwardly squirm even after their 420th photo shoot consisting of those "suspenders only" kind of shots. Or do they just think about the fake wind blowing through their hair (that must be cold!) or how uncomfortable the one-size-too-small $450 red patent leather heels their feet are crammed into feel. {sigh} It's a tough cross to bear.
But seriously, I think there is some validity to vulnerability. As squirmy as it feels to open up and bare our souls, I still think we need each other. Sure, we need to be choosy as to who we trust with our inner-most struggles and insecurities, but once we've found a few chosen people, the benefits for all concerned can be huge.
I've learned that when it comes to my diabetes, I need to have accountability to stay strong enough to battle the daily temptations. I have goals, and sometimes I need to be reminded of those goals. Whether it be an improved A1C (basically your average blood sugar over 3 months) or choosing to exercise harder, it's good to let the people that love me, encourage me to reach those goals the best I can.
So, I doubt that you will see me walking around with only 2 strategically placed 1-inch wide elastics on my chest, but I believe there is a time and place to feel a little naked.
So instead of "showing some skin", I think I will stay covered and when appropriate, get the help I need by showing what's under the skin instead.
Besides...who likes to be cold? ;)
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A Good Hard Look
I am an American Idol fan. I love music and I love rooting for my favourites. I will admit though, I think I am just as interested in seeing what the contestants, judges and guest stars are wearing as I am in what they are singing and saying. I just watched the finale and they had some pretty big names performing. And some pretty interesting outfits. I think my favourite fashion ensemble was when the top girls sang with Beyonce. But sorry Beyonce, your outfit didn’t quite cut it when you sang “One Plus One”. Your hips looked huge. (But you are still gorgeous, so I wouldn’t worry about it. ;)
Scotty triumphed over all. He wasn’t my first choice, but that is simply because I am not the biggest country fan. That kid can sing! Congrats man.
Before the show was over, he did a song with Tim McGraw. They did a duet of “Live Like You Were Dying”. Wow. I know I’ve heard that song before but I never really listened. I promptly looked up the lyrics and I wanted to include them here. I’ve highlighted the parts that pierced my heart in particular.
He said I was in my early 40's,
With a lot of life before me,
And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
I spent most of the next days, lookin' at the x-rays,
Talkin' 'bout the options and talkin' 'bout sweet time.
Asked him when it sank in, that this might really be the real end.How's it hit ya, when you get that kind of news.
Man what ya do.
And he says,
I went sky divin',
I went rocky mountain climbin',
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fumanchu.And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter,
And I gave forgiveness I've been denying,
And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To live like you were dyin'.
He said I was finally the husband,
That most the time I wasn't.And I became a friend a friend would like to have.And all the sudden goin' fishing,
Wasn't such an imposition.
And I went three times that year I lost my dad.
Well I finally read the good book,And I took a good long hard look at what I'd do
If I could do it all again.
And then.
Like tomorrow was a gift and you've got eternity
To think about what you do with it,
What could you do with it, what can
I do with with it, what would I do with it.
Sky divin',
I went rocky mountain climbin',
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fumanchu.
And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter,
And I watched an eagle as it was flyin'.And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To live like you were dyin'.
With a lot of life before me,
And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
I spent most of the next days, lookin' at the x-rays,
Talkin' 'bout the options and talkin' 'bout sweet time.
Asked him when it sank in, that this might really be the real end.How's it hit ya, when you get that kind of news.
Man what ya do.
And he says,
I went sky divin',
I went rocky mountain climbin',
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fumanchu.And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter,
And I gave forgiveness I've been denying,
And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To live like you were dyin'.
He said I was finally the husband,
That most the time I wasn't.And I became a friend a friend would like to have.And all the sudden goin' fishing,
Wasn't such an imposition.
And I went three times that year I lost my dad.
Well I finally read the good book,And I took a good long hard look at what I'd do
If I could do it all again.
And then.
Like tomorrow was a gift and you've got eternity
To think about what you do with it,
What could you do with it, what can
I do with with it, what would I do with it.
Sky divin',
I went rocky mountain climbin',
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fumanchu.
And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter,
And I watched an eagle as it was flyin'.And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To live like you were dyin'.
Yes. I want to live like I am dying.
I’ll probably never stop noticing interesting fashion. It’s a fun passion. (Notice the rhyme? ;) But as I go to my day-long, second-step sleep test today, I think I will use the boring awake time to meditate on the words of this song.
Thank you Tim. Thank you for that moment in time that will change many more moments, as I choose to once again...”Live Life”.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Positive Perceptions
Why is it that one day an outfit looks good, the next day horrible, and then great a few days later? I put on the exact same jeans, frilly tank top and shoes on all three occasions and get three different results. I don't get it. I mean, I haven't changed shape in that time, so why does it seem I have more junk in my trunk one day and have a flatter stomach the next? (Okay, so using the word "flatter" may imply there is an element of flatness. There's not. It's just less poofy. Get over it. ) You can apply this phenomenon to hair-dos as well. I can wear my hair perfectly flat-ironed straight two days in a row - like it the second time and hate it the first. Why, why, why! I just need some consistency in my life! How do I know when I am trying that new dress on in the store if it is one of the good looking days or bad looking ones? (And don't even get me started about the distorted mirrors they put in change rooms to make you look skinnier...)
It must be a perception thing.
I had another interesting moment in time yesterday. I was about to pull my car out of a parallel parked position and checked how much room I had between me and the truck ahead of me before I got in. The amount of space was as vast as outer-space (well, not quite ;) and I knew I definitely had room to just pull out, without even backing up at all.
Until I got into the driver's seat. Then all of a sudden there wasn't so much room in front of me. No, the truck hadn't moved. The only thing that had changed was my perspective. Interesting. Even though just a few seconds before, I knew I had the room, I now doubted that fact. And what did I do? I backed up a foot or so.
I couldn't help but see a "parallel" (Get it? ;) to another area of my life. I know I can get tighter control of my blood sugar levels, say "No!" to temptation and make positive life choices. I really do wholeheartedly know it. I've done it before. But then, let's say, a piece of carrot cake (substitute any number of temptations) will appear before me and I begin to doubt myself. It's like a dashboard of excuses blocks my vision and I give in and back up a foot or so before moving forward. The only difference is, when I do that, it sometimes turns into the equivalent of misjudging and hitting the car behind me.
So, once again, I must choose to trust in the reality that I can believe in myself. That I do believe in myself.
So, whether unparking a car, choosing an outfit for the day, or deciding on a healthy lifestyle choice, let's trust our good, true perspectives, rather than the negative ugly ones.
I think I'll go do my hair now... ;)
It must be a perception thing.
I had another interesting moment in time yesterday. I was about to pull my car out of a parallel parked position and checked how much room I had between me and the truck ahead of me before I got in. The amount of space was as vast as outer-space (well, not quite ;) and I knew I definitely had room to just pull out, without even backing up at all.
Until I got into the driver's seat. Then all of a sudden there wasn't so much room in front of me. No, the truck hadn't moved. The only thing that had changed was my perspective. Interesting. Even though just a few seconds before, I knew I had the room, I now doubted that fact. And what did I do? I backed up a foot or so.
I couldn't help but see a "parallel" (Get it? ;) to another area of my life. I know I can get tighter control of my blood sugar levels, say "No!" to temptation and make positive life choices. I really do wholeheartedly know it. I've done it before. But then, let's say, a piece of carrot cake (substitute any number of temptations) will appear before me and I begin to doubt myself. It's like a dashboard of excuses blocks my vision and I give in and back up a foot or so before moving forward. The only difference is, when I do that, it sometimes turns into the equivalent of misjudging and hitting the car behind me.
So, once again, I must choose to trust in the reality that I can believe in myself. That I do believe in myself.
So, whether unparking a car, choosing an outfit for the day, or deciding on a healthy lifestyle choice, let's trust our good, true perspectives, rather than the negative ugly ones.
I think I'll go do my hair now... ;)
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The "Palace of Positivity"
So I've been doing some "research" on the online shopping trend. Well, not so much on the trend but on the shopping itself. (And research is research right? No...I didn't buy anything. ;)
I found a site called Style Palace. It is Australian-based and had some very interesting collections. Even in Australia they believe in the comeback of the onsie. (That's my word for a jumpsuit in case you were confused for a second there. I am not talking about the undershirt-thingy you put on a baby). So I guess I will just have to get skinnier so I can join in on the fun. (By the time I reach my goal I'm pretty sure this trend will be over ;)
Over the weekend, I was involved in a conversation that involved a different kind of research. We were with good friends and I was sharing about some things I want to change in my life and about myself. These friends had an overwhelmingly supportive attitude and not only gave me a lot to think about in regards to making those changes, but taught me a lot about myself in the process. (If the going rate for a counselling session is $90 an hour, I think I owe them about $300 with the tip ;) It was very helpful to hear what they had to say, and to hear my own voice talk out loud the thoughts and feelings that roll around in my innermost being. So first of all...Thank you to those friends for their love, patience and encouraging words. I have already reached my first tiny, realistic goal.
But there was mention of creating an environment which fosters healthy living for both my mind and body. We called it the "Palace of Positivity". It might have been thrown out there as a bit of a joke, but the phrase stuck in my head. That is where I want to dwell. And I am the one who can make that happen. When I am feeling a little curb-stomped by life, I will take a few breaths, choose to embrace the pain, and let it propel me forward to take that next tiny, realistic goal. And hopefully, when I look back in a few years, I will be thousands tiny steps forward. (Reading this back helps me realize how that seems so much more possible than one gigantic leap!)
So whether I'm in the virtual Style Palace, or my Palace of Positivity, I will Live Life.
I don't know if that makes sense to you, but it means the world to me.
I found a site called Style Palace. It is Australian-based and had some very interesting collections. Even in Australia they believe in the comeback of the onsie. (That's my word for a jumpsuit in case you were confused for a second there. I am not talking about the undershirt-thingy you put on a baby). So I guess I will just have to get skinnier so I can join in on the fun. (By the time I reach my goal I'm pretty sure this trend will be over ;)
Over the weekend, I was involved in a conversation that involved a different kind of research. We were with good friends and I was sharing about some things I want to change in my life and about myself. These friends had an overwhelmingly supportive attitude and not only gave me a lot to think about in regards to making those changes, but taught me a lot about myself in the process. (If the going rate for a counselling session is $90 an hour, I think I owe them about $300 with the tip ;) It was very helpful to hear what they had to say, and to hear my own voice talk out loud the thoughts and feelings that roll around in my innermost being. So first of all...Thank you to those friends for their love, patience and encouraging words. I have already reached my first tiny, realistic goal.
But there was mention of creating an environment which fosters healthy living for both my mind and body. We called it the "Palace of Positivity". It might have been thrown out there as a bit of a joke, but the phrase stuck in my head. That is where I want to dwell. And I am the one who can make that happen. When I am feeling a little curb-stomped by life, I will take a few breaths, choose to embrace the pain, and let it propel me forward to take that next tiny, realistic goal. And hopefully, when I look back in a few years, I will be thousands tiny steps forward. (Reading this back helps me realize how that seems so much more possible than one gigantic leap!)
So whether I'm in the virtual Style Palace, or my Palace of Positivity, I will Live Life.
I don't know if that makes sense to you, but it means the world to me.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Oh Susie. Really?!?
I can't believe I am about to say what I am about to say. You will have every reason to judge and I won't hold it against you. Sometimes I shock myself.
I was sitting at the lab getting blood work done yesterday and had just climbed down the stairs to the basement. My one hip and leg are still bothering me since surgery, so I was feeling sore and tired when I got to the bottom. (Perhaps, Susie, use the elevator next time?!?) Anyway, that's is not the shocking part.
Here's where I get embarrassed.
As I was sitting there waiting, a woman came out of the elevator and around the corner in a motorized wheelchair. Right away, without missing a beat, my brain said to itself..."Wow. That must be nice to have a chair to sit in everywhere you are." I then outwardly gave my head a shake with reactionary shock at what I had just thought. (The person sitting beside me probably had a few questions in their mind at that moment!) Seriously?! Like she wants to be in a wheelchair 24/7?!? I don't know if it was my eternal optimism talking (As if! Maybe if I actually owned some of that stuff...) or just the fact I was feeling sore at that moment, but either way, it was a ridiculous thought. She was a very happy, positive lady who made a joke about being a bad driver, but still...I wonder what she would give up to walk again.
It was one of those "Bing!" moments (I am so sick of the Oprah "aha moment" phrase. Puke.) that made me realize how much I take for granted. Whether it be the clothes bursting out of my closet, my ability to shop the mall whenever I want or even more...the ability to walk the mall whenever I want, I have a lot to be thankful for.
And sure, I love checking out the latest fashion magazine and figuring out whether I can "pull off" the new style line with my body shape, but that's just a hobby. What's really important is the health that I do have, my relationship with my husband, family and friends, and how I love and treat others the way I should.
So once again I am humiliated and humbled by my own selfish self. But I'm glad we had this talk. Because I feel like maybe every time I remind myself of my said priorities, I will be one step closer to meeting them.
"Bing!"
I was sitting at the lab getting blood work done yesterday and had just climbed down the stairs to the basement. My one hip and leg are still bothering me since surgery, so I was feeling sore and tired when I got to the bottom. (Perhaps, Susie, use the elevator next time?!?) Anyway, that's is not the shocking part.
Here's where I get embarrassed.
As I was sitting there waiting, a woman came out of the elevator and around the corner in a motorized wheelchair. Right away, without missing a beat, my brain said to itself..."Wow. That must be nice to have a chair to sit in everywhere you are." I then outwardly gave my head a shake with reactionary shock at what I had just thought. (The person sitting beside me probably had a few questions in their mind at that moment!) Seriously?! Like she wants to be in a wheelchair 24/7?!? I don't know if it was my eternal optimism talking (As if! Maybe if I actually owned some of that stuff...) or just the fact I was feeling sore at that moment, but either way, it was a ridiculous thought. She was a very happy, positive lady who made a joke about being a bad driver, but still...I wonder what she would give up to walk again.
It was one of those "Bing!" moments (I am so sick of the Oprah "aha moment" phrase. Puke.) that made me realize how much I take for granted. Whether it be the clothes bursting out of my closet, my ability to shop the mall whenever I want or even more...the ability to walk the mall whenever I want, I have a lot to be thankful for.
And sure, I love checking out the latest fashion magazine and figuring out whether I can "pull off" the new style line with my body shape, but that's just a hobby. What's really important is the health that I do have, my relationship with my husband, family and friends, and how I love and treat others the way I should.
So once again I am humiliated and humbled by my own selfish self. But I'm glad we had this talk. Because I feel like maybe every time I remind myself of my said priorities, I will be one step closer to meeting them.
"Bing!"
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Ouch! That Hurts!
Think of your most fashionable shoes. Are they comfortable? I doubt it.
Why is it that often the coolest shoes hurt the worst? OR, they cost hundreds of dollars. Yes, it's true. You have to pay for the "comfort and style" combo. Unfortunately, I have way too many of those "fashionable only" shoes. And it's near impossible to tell for the 30 seconds you have them on in the store whether they will pass what I call the "walk the mall" test. I'll be honest. Sometimes I can be seen carrying my own pair while I wander around the department store in the almost-purchased pair to test them out. That may or may not give me a true picture of the comfort of my future with them.
So as per usual, this concept got me to thinking. (Maybe I think too much. The result turns into these ramblings, which are probably boring you to death. ;)
Anyhow, I started thinking about pain. And why it is necessary. I remember reading in a book (please don't ask me to remember which one) that pointed out the fact that pain is necessary. The burn of the stove element when you lean on it while talking on the phone when it is set to "high" tells you to lift your hand before it is further damaged. The stabbing, throbbing sensation you feel when you break the 26 bones in your foot after dropping a couch on it warns you that you are in a bad place. (Cuz otherwise you wouldn't know you had a couch sitting on your foot?) The pain you feel in your hips when you decide to go on a big grocery shop shortly after surgery screams "Stop moving!!! You're making things worse!" (I know, I know. Dumb. Really dumb.)
So as awful as pain is, I suppose I can see the necessity of it. (At least physical pain. I think emotional pain is a whole 'nother topic.)
So that gorgeously hip pair of cheap heels is probably trying to tell me something when my pinky toe is squished into the too-tight fake leather side-wall.
From now on...I should probably listen. (But am not in a position to make any promises ;)
And just as a little p.s...In case you were wondering...I did not get bad news at the eye specialist the other day. The Doc said things look "quiet" which means nothing has changed and that's all I can ask for. Now if I can just talk myself out of celebrating with a piece of carrot cake...
Why is it that often the coolest shoes hurt the worst? OR, they cost hundreds of dollars. Yes, it's true. You have to pay for the "comfort and style" combo. Unfortunately, I have way too many of those "fashionable only" shoes. And it's near impossible to tell for the 30 seconds you have them on in the store whether they will pass what I call the "walk the mall" test. I'll be honest. Sometimes I can be seen carrying my own pair while I wander around the department store in the almost-purchased pair to test them out. That may or may not give me a true picture of the comfort of my future with them.
So as per usual, this concept got me to thinking. (Maybe I think too much. The result turns into these ramblings, which are probably boring you to death. ;)
Anyhow, I started thinking about pain. And why it is necessary. I remember reading in a book (please don't ask me to remember which one) that pointed out the fact that pain is necessary. The burn of the stove element when you lean on it while talking on the phone when it is set to "high" tells you to lift your hand before it is further damaged. The stabbing, throbbing sensation you feel when you break the 26 bones in your foot after dropping a couch on it warns you that you are in a bad place. (Cuz otherwise you wouldn't know you had a couch sitting on your foot?) The pain you feel in your hips when you decide to go on a big grocery shop shortly after surgery screams "Stop moving!!! You're making things worse!" (I know, I know. Dumb. Really dumb.)
So as awful as pain is, I suppose I can see the necessity of it. (At least physical pain. I think emotional pain is a whole 'nother topic.)
So that gorgeously hip pair of cheap heels is probably trying to tell me something when my pinky toe is squished into the too-tight fake leather side-wall.
From now on...I should probably listen. (But am not in a position to make any promises ;)
And just as a little p.s...In case you were wondering...I did not get bad news at the eye specialist the other day. The Doc said things look "quiet" which means nothing has changed and that's all I can ask for. Now if I can just talk myself out of celebrating with a piece of carrot cake...
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Bad Do's and Bad News
Why is it some people get stuck? (And gosh! What if I am one of them and don't know it?!?)
I'm talking about style. Men. Women. It doesn't seem to be gender specific. Whenever I go out, my eyes always seem to catch a 40 year-old-man sporting a mullet, a women wearing neon and big hair, or a poor little child with a rat tail who doesn't even stand a chance at his age. I think it is the mindset that it looked good on me 25 years ago...it must still look good. Well, with the risk of sounding judgemental...it probably doesn't. Just sayin'. But if you feel good in it, then go for it. Don't let me stop you.
When it comes to my diabetes, I get "stuck" too. I had an interesting moment in time two days ago.
I was sitting in the big chair in the exam room waiting to get my eyes checked by Dr. Leicht (As in "light". Ironic, I know), and I started to inwardly panic a little, having received terrible news in that very ominous chair in the past. Was this going to be another one of those appointments? Then I thought...If I get bad news, this will be my wake up call to get even tighter control of my diabetes and try even harder. Seriously? I need bad news to wake me up? Wasn't sitting in that chair enough of a wake up call?!?
Why is it that we not only get stuck in life, but cannot seem to let our possible future consequences influence our decisions today. A lot of adults think that is a teenage problem, but I think it is universal. It usually takes a nasty kick in the butt to get our attention. We tend to think either it won't happen to us OR we'll deal with it when it comes.
Trust me...you don't want to deal with it when it comes. Please learn from my mistakes.
So if we can learn one thing together today, let's realize that life is too short to always be paying for bad choices. And maybe, just maybe...It's time for a haircut? ;)
I'm talking about style. Men. Women. It doesn't seem to be gender specific. Whenever I go out, my eyes always seem to catch a 40 year-old-man sporting a mullet, a women wearing neon and big hair, or a poor little child with a rat tail who doesn't even stand a chance at his age. I think it is the mindset that it looked good on me 25 years ago...it must still look good. Well, with the risk of sounding judgemental...it probably doesn't. Just sayin'. But if you feel good in it, then go for it. Don't let me stop you.
When it comes to my diabetes, I get "stuck" too. I had an interesting moment in time two days ago.
I was sitting in the big chair in the exam room waiting to get my eyes checked by Dr. Leicht (As in "light". Ironic, I know), and I started to inwardly panic a little, having received terrible news in that very ominous chair in the past. Was this going to be another one of those appointments? Then I thought...If I get bad news, this will be my wake up call to get even tighter control of my diabetes and try even harder. Seriously? I need bad news to wake me up? Wasn't sitting in that chair enough of a wake up call?!?
Why is it that we not only get stuck in life, but cannot seem to let our possible future consequences influence our decisions today. A lot of adults think that is a teenage problem, but I think it is universal. It usually takes a nasty kick in the butt to get our attention. We tend to think either it won't happen to us OR we'll deal with it when it comes.
Trust me...you don't want to deal with it when it comes. Please learn from my mistakes.
So if we can learn one thing together today, let's realize that life is too short to always be paying for bad choices. And maybe, just maybe...It's time for a haircut? ;)
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
You Can't be Serious!
I feel lied to. Or at least like the young man talking to me was very confused. Here's the story...
I was out for supper at a chain restaurant with a good friend recently and the waiter, in an attempt to be friendly, asked us about what we were up to that day. The topic of shopping came up (shocking, I know ;) and we let him in on our plans to go and be, once again, Forever 21. My friend hadn't yet checked it out since the store came to our city, so I had the exciting pleasure of showing her the ropes. Anyway, our waiter's response was "Forever 21? I wouldn't step foot in that store...It's a clothing store right?" First of all, don't judge the store if you don't even know what's in it! And second, they do have a guy's section, albeit pretty tiny in comparison to the vast forest of women's apparel.
He then went on to say, "But I do like to shop." Good. Now that I can respect. So I say, "What would be your first pick of stores to shop in?" And he said, "Well, I usually shop in the States. I just go once a year and stock up."
This is where I felt the sting of the lie. Or mistake. Or whatever the heck it was. Can you see what is wrong with this picture?!? He couldn't be serious!
You can't tell me in the same breath that you like shopping and then say you only go once a year!!!
That's like saying, "I love food so I eat once a week."
And I think the poor guy honestly thought that he was part of the "shopping club" in which I was the founder. Sorry man. I just voted you off the island.
And since I am ranting about honesty...here's my other verbal spewing coming at ya. I honestly hate having diabetes. I am not going to pretend otherwise just because it might be what you want to hear. And it's not so much the daily grind (Although that does get a little old after 28 years), so much as all the complications that come with it. There I said it. BUT...
I am truly thankful for everyday I have breath and can get up and go for a walk, play with my dog, or yes...of course...shop ;) Sure, I have health struggles, but I'll never forget when I was diagnosed at the age of nine, and in the hospital. My mom took me on a walk through the wing of the children's burn ward and there I saw children scarred for life and in horrific pain. And if ever I am feeling sorry for myself I think of that walk down agony lane and try to remind myself of what I have.
So trust me when I say this...
I won't pretend having diabetes is a piece of cake ;) but I love life, unlike the waiter's "love" of shopping, and I won't stop until I drop!
I was out for supper at a chain restaurant with a good friend recently and the waiter, in an attempt to be friendly, asked us about what we were up to that day. The topic of shopping came up (shocking, I know ;) and we let him in on our plans to go and be, once again, Forever 21. My friend hadn't yet checked it out since the store came to our city, so I had the exciting pleasure of showing her the ropes. Anyway, our waiter's response was "Forever 21? I wouldn't step foot in that store...It's a clothing store right?" First of all, don't judge the store if you don't even know what's in it! And second, they do have a guy's section, albeit pretty tiny in comparison to the vast forest of women's apparel.
He then went on to say, "But I do like to shop." Good. Now that I can respect. So I say, "What would be your first pick of stores to shop in?" And he said, "Well, I usually shop in the States. I just go once a year and stock up."
This is where I felt the sting of the lie. Or mistake. Or whatever the heck it was. Can you see what is wrong with this picture?!? He couldn't be serious!
You can't tell me in the same breath that you like shopping and then say you only go once a year!!!
That's like saying, "I love food so I eat once a week."
And I think the poor guy honestly thought that he was part of the "shopping club" in which I was the founder. Sorry man. I just voted you off the island.
And since I am ranting about honesty...here's my other verbal spewing coming at ya. I honestly hate having diabetes. I am not going to pretend otherwise just because it might be what you want to hear. And it's not so much the daily grind (Although that does get a little old after 28 years), so much as all the complications that come with it. There I said it. BUT...
I am truly thankful for everyday I have breath and can get up and go for a walk, play with my dog, or yes...of course...shop ;) Sure, I have health struggles, but I'll never forget when I was diagnosed at the age of nine, and in the hospital. My mom took me on a walk through the wing of the children's burn ward and there I saw children scarred for life and in horrific pain. And if ever I am feeling sorry for myself I think of that walk down agony lane and try to remind myself of what I have.
So trust me when I say this...
I won't pretend having diabetes is a piece of cake ;) but I love life, unlike the waiter's "love" of shopping, and I won't stop until I drop!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Real? Or Fake?
I want carrot cake!!
Stick with me and I promise this will come around to explain itself.
You may or may not know by now that I love all things fashion. I was reading in my (free!) fashion magazine today about online shopping and how it is the new craze. I'll be honest...I simply don't get that. That seems almost like fake shopping, yes? I mean, sure, if you live in a remote place and can't get to a mall then it makes sense. But choosing your keyboard and computer screen over the real thing for any other reason? Just don't get it.
Sometimes though, you have to settle for second best or an alternative choice, such as when it comes to dessert for me. I would eat dessert three times a day (okay maybe four ;) if I could. But like those far-away, remote live-ers who have no shopping center to frequent, I can't always get what I want. Due to my diabetes, I have to settle for "fake" dessert rather than go for the "real" goods. (Although, don't worry...I don't even eat the fake kind four times a day. I save even those for special occasions.)
But man...lately I have had some mean cravings for carrot cake! Of all things! (It's impossible for me to be pregnant...otherwise I'd be worried.) It's like the shopping - I want to see, touch, try on those glorious garments. I want to see, touch, smell, try on that glorious piece of carrot cake!
I actually have someone on the case to try to create a low-carb carrot cake for me. I'll b honest...I am kinda skeptical about this one. I've never been known for my baking abilities (I just bought my first apron ever, this year) but even I am pretty sure you need flour or something carb-like to make a cake. And even if it looks like a cake, does that mean it will taste like a cake?
I'm hoping the "fake" version will be worthwhile, but I've gotta tell ya...
I could live with online shopping off and on, but sometimes you just gotta have the real thing.
Stick with me and I promise this will come around to explain itself.
You may or may not know by now that I love all things fashion. I was reading in my (free!) fashion magazine today about online shopping and how it is the new craze. I'll be honest...I simply don't get that. That seems almost like fake shopping, yes? I mean, sure, if you live in a remote place and can't get to a mall then it makes sense. But choosing your keyboard and computer screen over the real thing for any other reason? Just don't get it.
Sometimes though, you have to settle for second best or an alternative choice, such as when it comes to dessert for me. I would eat dessert three times a day (okay maybe four ;) if I could. But like those far-away, remote live-ers who have no shopping center to frequent, I can't always get what I want. Due to my diabetes, I have to settle for "fake" dessert rather than go for the "real" goods. (Although, don't worry...I don't even eat the fake kind four times a day. I save even those for special occasions.)
But man...lately I have had some mean cravings for carrot cake! Of all things! (It's impossible for me to be pregnant...otherwise I'd be worried.) It's like the shopping - I want to see, touch, try on those glorious garments. I want to see, touch, smell, try on that glorious piece of carrot cake!
I actually have someone on the case to try to create a low-carb carrot cake for me. I'll b honest...I am kinda skeptical about this one. I've never been known for my baking abilities (I just bought my first apron ever, this year) but even I am pretty sure you need flour or something carb-like to make a cake. And even if it looks like a cake, does that mean it will taste like a cake?
I'm hoping the "fake" version will be worthwhile, but I've gotta tell ya...
I could live with online shopping off and on, but sometimes you just gotta have the real thing.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
How do I look?
Had an interesting conversation with a woman I hadn't seen for a long time, the other day. I was sitting on a bench outside my local pharmacy (pre-surgery by the way) and this woman was walking by. We did the eye dance for a moment while we each let our brains process who we were looking at. It had been that long.
We chit-chatted for a bit and one of her questions to me was..."So what have you been up to lately?" My answer went something like "Well, I am working on a book, writing music and looking after this body of mine. Dealing with some health issues." Her response thrilled me when she said "Oh, well you don't look like a sick person."
Thank you. Because I don't want to look like a sick person any more than I want to be one. It made me realize once again that you just never know what's going on beneath the surface of one's skin. My blood sugar could have been 23 (that's really high) for all she knew.
But there is another area of life where I think this masquerade does not apply. And that is with beauty. It's quite a phenomenon really. It may work for a brief time but in the long run, you just can't fake it.
You know what I mean? You meet a gorgeous looking woman and stand in awe, hidden in her shadow. And then you get to know her. You find out she is a mean, backstabbing, untrustworthy person. It always amazes me what happens next. It's like her face transforms into wrinkles, her feet look too big and her nose, well, don't get me started. But what's fascinating is nothing has physically changed since your first meeting. It's just that the ugliness from within is oozing out of her pores, and that's all you can now see.
I know we all have some degree of "ugliness" in our inner being, but it is amazing how radiant the most plainly featured girl can look when her heart is bursting with generosity, forgiveness and love. When she has not an ounce of judgement to pour on anyone. Now that's beauty.
So I am glad I don't look like a sick person. I hope I don't often look like an "ugly" person. And that has nothing to do with my makeup, clothes or shoes. Cuz one thing's for sure...
Beauty's not skin deep, it's everything underneath.
We chit-chatted for a bit and one of her questions to me was..."So what have you been up to lately?" My answer went something like "Well, I am working on a book, writing music and looking after this body of mine. Dealing with some health issues." Her response thrilled me when she said "Oh, well you don't look like a sick person."
Thank you. Because I don't want to look like a sick person any more than I want to be one. It made me realize once again that you just never know what's going on beneath the surface of one's skin. My blood sugar could have been 23 (that's really high) for all she knew.
But there is another area of life where I think this masquerade does not apply. And that is with beauty. It's quite a phenomenon really. It may work for a brief time but in the long run, you just can't fake it.
You know what I mean? You meet a gorgeous looking woman and stand in awe, hidden in her shadow. And then you get to know her. You find out she is a mean, backstabbing, untrustworthy person. It always amazes me what happens next. It's like her face transforms into wrinkles, her feet look too big and her nose, well, don't get me started. But what's fascinating is nothing has physically changed since your first meeting. It's just that the ugliness from within is oozing out of her pores, and that's all you can now see.
I know we all have some degree of "ugliness" in our inner being, but it is amazing how radiant the most plainly featured girl can look when her heart is bursting with generosity, forgiveness and love. When she has not an ounce of judgement to pour on anyone. Now that's beauty.
So I am glad I don't look like a sick person. I hope I don't often look like an "ugly" person. And that has nothing to do with my makeup, clothes or shoes. Cuz one thing's for sure...
Beauty's not skin deep, it's everything underneath.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Me? Be Tempted?
Friday the 13th. Hmmm...I'm not superstitious but...
So I had to go to another doctor's appointment today. I hobbled my way through the largest hospital in the city. (Just in case you were wondering, I wore flats ;) Hopefully the results of this appointment will be worth it.
My husband went with me, and since he took the day off, it was the perfect (really?) time to go tent shopping. Yes, you read correctly. Tent shopping. This landed us in a sporting goods store. And guess what?! I found an awesome pair of shoes! For real! They were practical, comfortable and stylish too! And they were $80. Ergo I didn't buy them. :( I think I will be fixated on them for awhile. Probably until I give in to the temptation ;) My husband might have said something to the effect of "So you can barely get in and out of a car but you can still try on shoes." Yes. Yes I can.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking "Shopaholic!" I rather would choose the title "Fashionista!" And remember...I did walk away. (Okay, so my husband had to drag me away, but still...)
Alright. I admit it. Whether we are talking about food choices or shopping...will power is not my strong suit. There are many times that I fail. But I am learning the tricks of the trade. Keep garbage food (i.e. high carb, high fat) out of my house so I can't be tempted. Outta site, outta mouth. And I think I could probably apply this concept to another area in my life.
When you have no money for shoes...don't go shopping for tents! ;)
So I had to go to another doctor's appointment today. I hobbled my way through the largest hospital in the city. (Just in case you were wondering, I wore flats ;) Hopefully the results of this appointment will be worth it.
My husband went with me, and since he took the day off, it was the perfect (really?) time to go tent shopping. Yes, you read correctly. Tent shopping. This landed us in a sporting goods store. And guess what?! I found an awesome pair of shoes! For real! They were practical, comfortable and stylish too! And they were $80. Ergo I didn't buy them. :( I think I will be fixated on them for awhile. Probably until I give in to the temptation ;) My husband might have said something to the effect of "So you can barely get in and out of a car but you can still try on shoes." Yes. Yes I can.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking "Shopaholic!" I rather would choose the title "Fashionista!" And remember...I did walk away. (Okay, so my husband had to drag me away, but still...)
Alright. I admit it. Whether we are talking about food choices or shopping...will power is not my strong suit. There are many times that I fail. But I am learning the tricks of the trade. Keep garbage food (i.e. high carb, high fat) out of my house so I can't be tempted. Outta site, outta mouth. And I think I could probably apply this concept to another area in my life.
When you have no money for shoes...don't go shopping for tents! ;)
Thursday, May 12, 2011
La la la..."My Hips Don't Lie"
I had to leave the house this morning. If you've read my last two blogs you will know this is kind of a big deal. In case you're out of the proverbial loop, I'll let you in on the secret. I had surgery on Monday. Shocking, I know. But regardless, I am moving, ummm, let's say, slower than usual. I am having a lot of muscle pain in my legs and hips, but even I had to chuckle to myself when the song "My Hips Don't Lie" by Shikira popped into my head while making my way down the medical clinic's hallway.
I had to get blood work done, which meant going to the city and getting my carcass down to the basement lab. (I seem to have overcome my fear of elevators for the occasion.;) I am just proud of myself that I was fully clothed, if I do say so myself.
Going to the lab is always an interesting experience. First off, you have all the lab techs in their cutesy scrubs covered with bunny rabbits or puppies. I wonder if those furry little creatures painted all over the person coming at you with eight blood vials, a needle and a urine sample cup actually make people feel happier about their health situation. I suppose it's worth a try.
Then you have the people in the waiting room. I don't know if I am the best covert spy in the world (probably not actually ;) but I try to scope an area without being too obvious. I am always fascinated by what I see. Elderly people sleeping (to their credit, it was 7:45a.m.), business men in suits talking on their blue-tooth while impatiently tapping their foot, and then of course, the 50-year-old woman in the center of the room dressed in a bad bold 80's outfit wearing bright red lipstick. (Did I mention it was 7:45 a.m.?) No, I never go to the lab without my notebook and pen. Sure, I look important but really am just gathering material for times such as these.
But I am sure there was someone in that room taking notes on me this morning, because I looked "mature beyond my years" if you know what I mean ;) And I probably wouldn't make Shikira proud with my moves but it's unfortunately still true...
..."my hips don't lie..."
I had to get blood work done, which meant going to the city and getting my carcass down to the basement lab. (I seem to have overcome my fear of elevators for the occasion.;) I am just proud of myself that I was fully clothed, if I do say so myself.
Going to the lab is always an interesting experience. First off, you have all the lab techs in their cutesy scrubs covered with bunny rabbits or puppies. I wonder if those furry little creatures painted all over the person coming at you with eight blood vials, a needle and a urine sample cup actually make people feel happier about their health situation. I suppose it's worth a try.
Then you have the people in the waiting room. I don't know if I am the best covert spy in the world (probably not actually ;) but I try to scope an area without being too obvious. I am always fascinated by what I see. Elderly people sleeping (to their credit, it was 7:45a.m.), business men in suits talking on their blue-tooth while impatiently tapping their foot, and then of course, the 50-year-old woman in the center of the room dressed in a bad bold 80's outfit wearing bright red lipstick. (Did I mention it was 7:45 a.m.?) No, I never go to the lab without my notebook and pen. Sure, I look important but really am just gathering material for times such as these.
But I am sure there was someone in that room taking notes on me this morning, because I looked "mature beyond my years" if you know what I mean ;) And I probably wouldn't make Shikira proud with my moves but it's unfortunately still true...
..."my hips don't lie..."
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Just "Vogue" Part 2
You'd think that fashion and surgery don't mix but...
My surgery is over. I am now a patient in my own home. Recovery is slow going but at least going in the right direction.
As for the actual experience, I was very disappointed in the nurse in charge. The instruction sheet had said to bring slippers, so I brought a pair of unworn purple flats for the occasion. I figured at least my feet would look happy. But noooo. She made me put on the ever-so-stylish hospital gown (which took me 10 minutes to figure out how to actually make it conform to my body), a pair of hospital slippers (so disappointing) AND a hospital cap! So there I was, at my very best...no makeup, no nose ring, no hairdo, just one big sterile blob on a stretcher. Sigh.
The good news is I didn't get puking sick from the anesthetic. The bad news is, it hurt(s) like...........Heck! (Feel pity here.) It could always be worse though right?
The medical team looking after me pre-op and post-op was fantastic actually. I found myself complimenting them on such a friendly and efficient environment. They deserved a 20% tip for sure. I just couldn't afford it. Do you know how much it costs to do surgery these days?!? (I really have no idea since it was all paid for, but I can only imagine. Thank you Canada for your health care.)
Then, on the way home, we had to stop at our local pharmacy to fill some prescriptions for post-op care of my body. While I sat in the car, my husband went to the pharmacy and then to the mail. In our box was a fabulous surprise! It was a free fashion magazine! (I know, they are just trying to get my business, but who cares! It was free!) What perfect timing!
So here I am, at home "enjoying" some fashion tips from Flare. And you can be sure about one thing...
I may not look quite as "sterile" as I did on Monday, but I certainly am not going to tell you how I look now.
Madonna will have to wait. I won't be striking a pose anytime soon! ;)
My surgery is over. I am now a patient in my own home. Recovery is slow going but at least going in the right direction.
As for the actual experience, I was very disappointed in the nurse in charge. The instruction sheet had said to bring slippers, so I brought a pair of unworn purple flats for the occasion. I figured at least my feet would look happy. But noooo. She made me put on the ever-so-stylish hospital gown (which took me 10 minutes to figure out how to actually make it conform to my body), a pair of hospital slippers (so disappointing) AND a hospital cap! So there I was, at my very best...no makeup, no nose ring, no hairdo, just one big sterile blob on a stretcher. Sigh.
The good news is I didn't get puking sick from the anesthetic. The bad news is, it hurt(s) like...........Heck! (Feel pity here.) It could always be worse though right?
The medical team looking after me pre-op and post-op was fantastic actually. I found myself complimenting them on such a friendly and efficient environment. They deserved a 20% tip for sure. I just couldn't afford it. Do you know how much it costs to do surgery these days?!? (I really have no idea since it was all paid for, but I can only imagine. Thank you Canada for your health care.)
Then, on the way home, we had to stop at our local pharmacy to fill some prescriptions for post-op care of my body. While I sat in the car, my husband went to the pharmacy and then to the mail. In our box was a fabulous surprise! It was a free fashion magazine! (I know, they are just trying to get my business, but who cares! It was free!) What perfect timing!
So here I am, at home "enjoying" some fashion tips from Flare. And you can be sure about one thing...
I may not look quite as "sterile" as I did on Monday, but I certainly am not going to tell you how I look now.
Madonna will have to wait. I won't be striking a pose anytime soon! ;)
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Just "Vogue"
Last night, on our way home from a Mother's Day celebration, (Happy Mother's day by the way, to all you mothers!) we were listening to 90's satellite radio and I was given some inspiration. The song that gave me that gift not only reminded me of my earlier years, but also made me smile just for its name. Can you guess it? Yup. Madonna's "Vogue". Of course anything that reminds me of the magazine or some great fashion is bound to make me smile, but it also got me moving in my seat. Good times. I urge you to look up the lyrics. They are pretty cool actually.
It talks of the hard knocks of life and how if you let the music move you, and get up on the dance floor, it's a freeing experience. I agree. I love to dance. I look ridiculous but whatever. So what if it looks like I am in my own private Richard Simmon's aerobics class rather than gettin' my groove on. I don't care. It feels good. (And when all else fails...just do the shuffle side to side right? ;)
I will be doing a little "shuffling" this coming week. Having surgery tomorrow. Not sure how much pain I will be in but can almost guarantee barfing my guts out for a few hours after the procedure. Those "feel good" drugs they put you under with and give you afterwards simply don't agree with me. But I suppose those after affects are better than being awake for the whole thing. That wouldn't be cool.
So I feel like Madonna came just at the right time. (I'm about to paint you a mental picture you may or may not want so be warned...;) When they call me out of the closet-like change room after putting on my hospital gown, I will remember my "Vogue" inspiration, come out in my heels and...
Strike a pose!
It talks of the hard knocks of life and how if you let the music move you, and get up on the dance floor, it's a freeing experience. I agree. I love to dance. I look ridiculous but whatever. So what if it looks like I am in my own private Richard Simmon's aerobics class rather than gettin' my groove on. I don't care. It feels good. (And when all else fails...just do the shuffle side to side right? ;)
I will be doing a little "shuffling" this coming week. Having surgery tomorrow. Not sure how much pain I will be in but can almost guarantee barfing my guts out for a few hours after the procedure. Those "feel good" drugs they put you under with and give you afterwards simply don't agree with me. But I suppose those after affects are better than being awake for the whole thing. That wouldn't be cool.
So I feel like Madonna came just at the right time. (I'm about to paint you a mental picture you may or may not want so be warned...;) When they call me out of the closet-like change room after putting on my hospital gown, I will remember my "Vogue" inspiration, come out in my heels and...
Strike a pose!
Friday, May 6, 2011
A Dreamy Surprise
I had a nice little surprise the other day. Lately, I have been attracted to "dreamy" clothes. You know...flowy, creamy, well...dreamy clothes. I don't know how else to describe them. But the surprise came when I went into a grocery supermarket and wandered through their apparel section. I am always attracted to clothes even if they are bad clothes. Curiosity just gets the best of me. So as I meandered, my out-stretched hand felt the flowy fabric of a creamy off-white dress hanging on the rack. Oh my! It was fantastic! It was the kind of rare find you would come upon in a cute little boutique on a side-street, but I was in a grocery store! I almost didn't try it on in case I liked it. Because I knew if I liked it...I'd be leaving the store with it too. So what did I do? I tried it on of course. And yes, I left the store with it! How could I not? I already had the perfect shoes to go with it at home.
In recent years I got another more-than-pleasant surprise at my doctor's office. Back when I was about 16, there was the need to do a kidney biopsy on me to see how diseased my kidneys were at the time. Diabetes can wreak havoc on those necessary little guys. (That wasn't the wonderful surprise, by the way. The procedure was naaaasssty!) At the results appointment, I was told I did indeed have kidney disease, but it was in the early stages. Ever since then, I've always been told it has stayed stable.
Well the surprise came when I had mentioned this to my G.P. and he looked at me funny. He said "I have been keeping my eye on your kidney levels and they look fine to me." I'm still not sure if that means I have no disease there or just that those filtering organs of mine are very productive at their job. Whatever the answer...I'll take it!
So you just never know when or where you might find that perfect dreamy dress or encouraging bit of news. To me it means one thing...
Never give up looking for it.
In recent years I got another more-than-pleasant surprise at my doctor's office. Back when I was about 16, there was the need to do a kidney biopsy on me to see how diseased my kidneys were at the time. Diabetes can wreak havoc on those necessary little guys. (That wasn't the wonderful surprise, by the way. The procedure was naaaasssty!) At the results appointment, I was told I did indeed have kidney disease, but it was in the early stages. Ever since then, I've always been told it has stayed stable.
Well the surprise came when I had mentioned this to my G.P. and he looked at me funny. He said "I have been keeping my eye on your kidney levels and they look fine to me." I'm still not sure if that means I have no disease there or just that those filtering organs of mine are very productive at their job. Whatever the answer...I'll take it!
So you just never know when or where you might find that perfect dreamy dress or encouraging bit of news. To me it means one thing...
Never give up looking for it.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
"If I Traded It All"
Well, today my heart is heavy. I just came back from the drugstore and was listening to our local pop/rock radio station in my car. They are having a radio-thon for the Children's Hospital in my nearest city.
As they played Finger Eleven's "One Thing" otherwise recognized as "If I Traded It All" in the background, tears started to fall from my eyes as I listened to story after story of sick and dying children. One father explained how his son had a degenerative disorder in which his body and mind reversed and erased everything he had learned including even his reflex to swallow. They know he will die soon, and probably from either an infection or Pneumonia.
His mother cut in from the background saying that they want him to die at home, with his family.
He is six.
After this story, child after child and parent after parent were quoted saying what ugly disease they were dealing with, past or present. Everything from Leukemia to needed heart transplants were listed while thrown out into the airwaves. I wanted to catch and destroy them as they came at me through the radio.
The good news is...many children have been saved by the staff and equipment at that hospital. Myself being one of them. I spent two weeks there at the age of nine after almost dying due to the diagnosis of my diabetes.
But today this is not about me. It is about the hundreds of thousands of children who are sick and dying and need saving. And it is about the parents who must watch their children struggle for their lives.
"If I traded it all, if I gave it all away for one thing. Just for one thing..."
As they played Finger Eleven's "One Thing" otherwise recognized as "If I Traded It All" in the background, tears started to fall from my eyes as I listened to story after story of sick and dying children. One father explained how his son had a degenerative disorder in which his body and mind reversed and erased everything he had learned including even his reflex to swallow. They know he will die soon, and probably from either an infection or Pneumonia.
His mother cut in from the background saying that they want him to die at home, with his family.
He is six.
After this story, child after child and parent after parent were quoted saying what ugly disease they were dealing with, past or present. Everything from Leukemia to needed heart transplants were listed while thrown out into the airwaves. I wanted to catch and destroy them as they came at me through the radio.
The good news is...many children have been saved by the staff and equipment at that hospital. Myself being one of them. I spent two weeks there at the age of nine after almost dying due to the diagnosis of my diabetes.
But today this is not about me. It is about the hundreds of thousands of children who are sick and dying and need saving. And it is about the parents who must watch their children struggle for their lives.
"If I traded it all, if I gave it all away for one thing. Just for one thing..."
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Bikini Confidence
Whitney Port, originally the star from the reality show (Wait...I think they need to come up with a new term for those shows. Something like "outrageously scripted not even close to real" fake reality shows) "The Hills", and who then went on to "The City", made what I find as a fascinating quote in a beauty magazine. She said "I feel most confident while wearing a bikini and no makeup." Really? I honestly can't say that I have ever had that thought about myself. Sometimes I feel comfortable in no makeup (not usually), but confident? And in a bikini?!? Not likely.
This started my brain rolling in the direction of trying to pinpoint what does make me feel most confident. I'm not sure I can narrow it down to just one thing, but a few ideas come to mind. I feel confident when I hear my heels clicking on the pavement in a parking lot (comfortable heels, not the pinchy rubby kind). I feel confident when someone who's fashion sense I highly admire compliments me on how I look that day. (The number one opinion I value is my husband's. He has amazing fashion sense when it comes to women's clothing, makeup and hair.) I feel confident when I step on the scale and discover I just lost another couple of pounds.
I also feel confident when my blood sugar is stable. And I feel the most confident when my eye doctor tells me that my eye disease has not progressed, or when my diabetes specialist tells me to keep up the hard work, that I am doing a good job. I feel confident when I feel healthy.
Some people have said that without your health you have nothing. I don't totally buy into that, because as a sometimes non-healthy person, I still feel that my life is full, with my passions, my friends, my family and especially my husband. But I "get" what they are saying. When you are or at least feel healthy, be it in mind, body or spirit, it does instill an extra level of confidence and personal power.
So a bikini and an au-naturale face? I don't think so. But I can always try.
Because in the end, it's not about what you wear...
True confidence comes from within.
This started my brain rolling in the direction of trying to pinpoint what does make me feel most confident. I'm not sure I can narrow it down to just one thing, but a few ideas come to mind. I feel confident when I hear my heels clicking on the pavement in a parking lot (comfortable heels, not the pinchy rubby kind). I feel confident when someone who's fashion sense I highly admire compliments me on how I look that day. (The number one opinion I value is my husband's. He has amazing fashion sense when it comes to women's clothing, makeup and hair.) I feel confident when I step on the scale and discover I just lost another couple of pounds.
I also feel confident when my blood sugar is stable. And I feel the most confident when my eye doctor tells me that my eye disease has not progressed, or when my diabetes specialist tells me to keep up the hard work, that I am doing a good job. I feel confident when I feel healthy.
Some people have said that without your health you have nothing. I don't totally buy into that, because as a sometimes non-healthy person, I still feel that my life is full, with my passions, my friends, my family and especially my husband. But I "get" what they are saying. When you are or at least feel healthy, be it in mind, body or spirit, it does instill an extra level of confidence and personal power.
So a bikini and an au-naturale face? I don't think so. But I can always try.
Because in the end, it's not about what you wear...
True confidence comes from within.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Paris and Pokes
Sometimes I wish I lived in New York or Paris. Don't get me wrong...I love it where I live (except during the snow storms in May) but women in those cities can get away with much more. I'm not talking about being "bad girls". I am talking about style options. They can actually wear a lot of what you see in Vogue or on the runways in the fashion capital of the world. (Which is Paris by the way.) No, that pretty pink skirt swirling with tulle paired with a flowy white blouse and silver stilettos might look a little out of place in small-town Canada. But in New York, well...Fabulous!
Then there is event-appropriateness as well. Of course a bikini on the beach works well, but not so much at a formal benefit to raise money for diabetes. No, there you might just get away with a little tulle, but not jeans and a t-shirt.
So there is a time and place for making a bold fashion statement. Just like, I have learned, there is a time and place for doing your blood sugar.
I will admit, after roughly 40,000 finger pokes I have lost the perspective that some people can't handle the site of blood. Taking my blood sugar is as natural as brushing my hair to me. In fact, I know I prick my finger more that I run a pick through my blonde locks. You heard me...I prick more than I pick. (I know, groan.) But of course, that is not the case for most people. I was reminded of some people's blood reaction while out for dinner at a restaurant a while back. As slick as ice, I pulled out my meter, put it on the table, and proceeded to draw blood. It wasn't until I looked across and saw my friend's face turn a shade of green that was meant only for aliens, that I realized my faux-pas. Sorry 'bout that.
So the moral of the story is that not only is there age-appropriateness which we discussed earlier, but also location-appropriateness. My longings for New York and Paris will have to wait. But for now, every time I cause myself to bleed, I will allow myself to picture that pink-tulle skirt and silver stilettos and smile.
Cuz even if only in my dreams, I'm allowed to look fabulous.
Then there is event-appropriateness as well. Of course a bikini on the beach works well, but not so much at a formal benefit to raise money for diabetes. No, there you might just get away with a little tulle, but not jeans and a t-shirt.
So there is a time and place for making a bold fashion statement. Just like, I have learned, there is a time and place for doing your blood sugar.
I will admit, after roughly 40,000 finger pokes I have lost the perspective that some people can't handle the site of blood. Taking my blood sugar is as natural as brushing my hair to me. In fact, I know I prick my finger more that I run a pick through my blonde locks. You heard me...I prick more than I pick. (I know, groan.) But of course, that is not the case for most people. I was reminded of some people's blood reaction while out for dinner at a restaurant a while back. As slick as ice, I pulled out my meter, put it on the table, and proceeded to draw blood. It wasn't until I looked across and saw my friend's face turn a shade of green that was meant only for aliens, that I realized my faux-pas. Sorry 'bout that.
So the moral of the story is that not only is there age-appropriateness which we discussed earlier, but also location-appropriateness. My longings for New York and Paris will have to wait. But for now, every time I cause myself to bleed, I will allow myself to picture that pink-tulle skirt and silver stilettos and smile.
Cuz even if only in my dreams, I'm allowed to look fabulous.
Monday, May 2, 2011
What Was I Thinking?!
Have you ever looked at an outfit in your closet and thought "What was I thinking?!" Yes, it's true. I don't always have good fashion sense. But why does it take me so long to figure that bad outfit out? And why didn't anybody tell me it was that bad? (Mind you, I probably wouldn't have wanted to hear it at the time.)
But you know what I am talking about right? That trendy little gold dress that you realize way too late, like 11 months or 50-lbs-lost later, that it was unflattering and possibly even, well, hideous. You never should have been caught leaving your house in the gawd-awful thing!
Well, it can be a little like that when living with diabetes too.
Years ago, I thought I could eat things that never should have been put in my mouth (or at least almost never, which wasn't the case) and should have chosen the gym over a nap, many more times than I did. As a result of very poor diabetes management (which could also be attributed to being a very tough case even when doing everything "right"), I now suffer the consequences of complications from the disease. I wish I had the excuse of "why didn't anyone tell me?" but that really isn't the case. I knew from an early age that these troublesome on-the-side dishes of disease were possible, but never thought they would happen to me. Hmmm...where have we heard that before?
And like wearing black when you are having a "fat" day, instead of the fuchsia-polka-dotted poofy white number, I perhaps also should have adopted the "better safe than sorry" attitude when it came to my diabetes as well. It is a life-lesson I still continue to learn.
So now, whether deciding what to do, eat or wear, I try to think "Will I someday be asking the question 'What was I thinking?'" Or will I be confident that I made a "flattering" choice.
There will always be times for pink polka dots, but just know this -
I never want to do "hideous" again.
But you know what I am talking about right? That trendy little gold dress that you realize way too late, like 11 months or 50-lbs-lost later, that it was unflattering and possibly even, well, hideous. You never should have been caught leaving your house in the gawd-awful thing!
Well, it can be a little like that when living with diabetes too.
Years ago, I thought I could eat things that never should have been put in my mouth (or at least almost never, which wasn't the case) and should have chosen the gym over a nap, many more times than I did. As a result of very poor diabetes management (which could also be attributed to being a very tough case even when doing everything "right"), I now suffer the consequences of complications from the disease. I wish I had the excuse of "why didn't anyone tell me?" but that really isn't the case. I knew from an early age that these troublesome on-the-side dishes of disease were possible, but never thought they would happen to me. Hmmm...where have we heard that before?
And like wearing black when you are having a "fat" day, instead of the fuchsia-polka-dotted poofy white number, I perhaps also should have adopted the "better safe than sorry" attitude when it came to my diabetes as well. It is a life-lesson I still continue to learn.
So now, whether deciding what to do, eat or wear, I try to think "Will I someday be asking the question 'What was I thinking?'" Or will I be confident that I made a "flattering" choice.
There will always be times for pink polka dots, but just know this -
I never want to do "hideous" again.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Red Carpet Life
Have you ever wondered why you don't see other people wearing the oh-so-cute purple rayon tank or too-hot-to-handle little black dress that you bought a month ago? I mean, think about it. You go to a store and there are multiple sizes hanging on the rack of the exact same material design that you stand in line to pay for. And I used to work retail. The stockroom is bulging with many more just like it.
And very, very, very rarely do you see two women wearing the same thing. Unless of course it's on the red carpet. That changes the odds completely. And if say, Rhianna and one of the Kardashians are caught wearing the same dress at the same event...look out! The Paparazzi are all over them for weeks.
But where are all the other purple rayon tank tops?
These are the things that roll around my brain at night.
And when those two famous people are captured forever in print wearing the identical outfit, the magazines will do a poll - "Who wore it best?" Really? That's what people care about? But it goes to show you that even when you take the two most beautiful women you can think of and put them in that same creamy off-white goddess dress, they don't look the same. Different shoes, different accessories, different hair, different body shapes.
I am learning that, like this phenomenon in the fashion world, no two people deal with the same joys and sorrows of this life. Each person will have different thrills, different pain. Even two people dealing with the same disease such as type 1 diabetes or breast cancer will come at it from their own context and perspective, "wearing" it their own way. This fascinates me.
Everyone has a story. And even if that story looks similar to someone else's, it's not the same, and it's not a competition. It's definitely not about who wore it best.
We're all on the red carpet together.
And very, very, very rarely do you see two women wearing the same thing. Unless of course it's on the red carpet. That changes the odds completely. And if say, Rhianna and one of the Kardashians are caught wearing the same dress at the same event...look out! The Paparazzi are all over them for weeks.
But where are all the other purple rayon tank tops?
These are the things that roll around my brain at night.
And when those two famous people are captured forever in print wearing the identical outfit, the magazines will do a poll - "Who wore it best?" Really? That's what people care about? But it goes to show you that even when you take the two most beautiful women you can think of and put them in that same creamy off-white goddess dress, they don't look the same. Different shoes, different accessories, different hair, different body shapes.
I am learning that, like this phenomenon in the fashion world, no two people deal with the same joys and sorrows of this life. Each person will have different thrills, different pain. Even two people dealing with the same disease such as type 1 diabetes or breast cancer will come at it from their own context and perspective, "wearing" it their own way. This fascinates me.
Everyone has a story. And even if that story looks similar to someone else's, it's not the same, and it's not a competition. It's definitely not about who wore it best.
We're all on the red carpet together.
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