Buffering

aka Status Update

It’s been almost three weeks since Mom died. The first week was wading through concrete mixed with planning the burial/memorial service. The second week was more wading through concrete. I just couldn’t…make myself do anything. I didn’t cook, I didn’t work out, I didn’t really talk to any friends…I just existed.

In the meantime, on the good news front, I got a new job. I explained about my loss and they said I could start this week or even a week later if needed. I started Monday and am working MWF, 4-6 hours per day.

I’ve worked five days a week for four hours a day for the past three years, so this is a bit of a change. But having two full days during the week at home to do all the extra-curricular things has been a good thing to adapt to. Including finally replacing the car that got totaled back in January.

In terms of grieving, if I don’t think or talk about her, I’m ok. I can get my life done and work and grocery shop etc. If it comes up in conversation, I start to cry. So, yeah. Pretty sure that’s “normal” whatever that means.

Awhile back I had four really difficult things going on–my job loss, the car, one of my kids and my mom. All four things are now–for better for for worse–resolved. I’m now dealing with (or not dealing with, as the case may be) a different situation with a different family member and I don’t have a path forward at this moment because this family member is extremely difficult to deal with on a good day and this person is not having a good day with me right now. A talk needs to be had, and I hope I can be courageous enough to have it, but I’m fully and totally aware that this person is not willing to relate in an adult Christian manner (although they are both) and the talk may quickly devolve into something even more damaging than has already happened. So as much as this situation is constantly on my mind, and even keeping me awake at night, I’m avoiding confrontation/conversation until I feel like this person might be more receptive to being an adult. And sorry for the “vaguebooking” but it’s just a yucky situation and I don’t feel I have the ability to be completely open about it.

Loss

My mother passed away yesterday morning.

She was 91 and had been declining for awhile, but on Feb 5th she had a bad fall. She broke her wrist and banged her head in such a way that she ended up with a brain bleed (a “subdural hematoma”). My sister and I have learned much in the last month. From that moment on, the decline, though not all at once, was much swifter and much sharper. She had a hospital stay that lasted for 9 days, and came home Wednesday evening. By Thursday things had dramatically changed and we ended up back in the ER, getting a hospice evaluation, which was approved, and then going back to my sister’s house to wait things out. Our whole family (minus two people who were out of state), came over, visited and basically said good bye to Mom or MumMum. The house was full of people who loved her and who she loved.

Friday I arrived around 8:15, not knowing what the day would look like. We met with a hospice nurse and a social worker and heard about things that would happen in the coming days. We all spent time with Mom in her room: my brother in law prayed with her, my niece’s husband read the bible to her, my sister and niece visited with her individually, which I also did, but my main thing was singing hymns to her.

My mother was Baptist and I was raised that way. We sang hymns on Sundays and they are rather ingrained in my brain. Or, at least the first verse is. Sometimes the others, sometimes I had to look at my phone. Thank you to https://popularhymns.com/ for lyrics as I needed them. I literally went through the list alphabetically (no, not every single one, but yes, every one that I knew). She would move her mouth like she was singing to a few. The experience was one of the most precious one of my entire life.

I left around 5:30 to go and spend my night with my family. While her breathing had worsened a bit, neither my sister nor I thought death was imminent.

My phone rang at 3:42am. My sister had her alarm go off at 3:30 for the dose of morphine to keep my mom comfortable. When she and my niece got to the bedroom, Mom was gone. Recently. They called the hospice for the nurse to come and then called me.

Side note: there is practically no one on the streets in our area at 4am.

Yesterday was a day of saying good-bye and making plans and being overwhelmed with grief. Hearing my father say goodbye and asking her to “save a room for me” in heaven drove my niece and I to cling to each other and sob.

I spoke to a friend who is a retired hospice nurse and told her something I had learned through the process: I had dreaded this, not having gone through it. I was scared and anxious and all the emotions. But it was precious. It was lovely. It was indescribable to walk with someone in their last hours to heaven. Especially singing by the hour to my mother.

We are a family of faith. My mother loved the Lord and is, we truly believe, in heaven with Him now. Seeing her mother, her grandmother, my son, and all her friends who went before her. It does not mitigate the loss of her presence in our lives, but knowing all the things I sang about with regards to heaven are now a fact in her life instead of a “someday” is wonderful.

Can I Stop the Merry Go Round Please?

aka THERE’S SO MUCH GOING ON RIGHT NOW

Thursday a week ago I had my first really bad experience at a dentist. I have somehow developed a phobia, which isn’t fun to begin with. When it’s just for cleaning and x-rays I manage, but with proper drilling type stuff I now fall apart, cry and shake. This is pretty awful. I needed two shots of novocaine, which STUNK, and will need to go back for either a crown or a root canal, only time will tell.

Last Sunday I hit a deer with my car. The first time in the 37 years I’ve been driving. It was VERY VERY upsetting and did some damage to the car, which goes in on Wednesday. Hoping it’s just the outside stuff, but we’ll see.

Thursday while at work I got a call from someone wanting to talk about the job posting. I didn’t know there was a job posting, and neither did my coworker. Upon looking it up, it seems it’s MY JOB, only full time, which I am unable to work due to family obligation, both children and parents. I was, understandably, upset and freaked out. Friday my boss called me in to tell me about it, and I was grateful I had already had my reaction in private. So now I’m actively, not just casually, job hunting.

Ethan’s support staff has started. She comes on Tuesdays to work on independence skills and Thursdays to take Ethan out into the community. So I need to make sure that he has something to actually DO on Thursdays. So I’m adding that to my research time.

My mom is going downhill at a more rapid rate than previously. She’s 91. Thankfully, we have an aid that I am friends with and she keeps my sister and me up to date on how things are going.

So, yeah. There’s just a lot going on. And a lot of it is of the more challenging nature of things, as opposed to the happy/excited side of things.

No, I Don’t Have To.

In the course of the past month I have been to see both my asthma/allergy doctor and my dentist. And with both visits I said No to something. It was hard, but I felt really good about both.

I see the asthma/allergy doctor mostly for monthly/bi-weekly/weekly shots depending on the season and severity of my symptoms. Right now it’s monthly. Once spring hits it will become weekly to try and control my symptoms better. I did develop asthma, but it is VERY mild and only appears really when the weather is really dry and freezing and if I wear a scarf so I’m breathing warm and moist air I’m fine.

I went to see the doctor for a semi-annual check up. Part of that check up is breathing into a machine until you have run out of breath. I hate this test. It literally makes me feel like I’m going to pass out and I have fallen into my chair at the end of it more than once. This particular visit I finally asked the nurse why I have to have it. “Because you have asthma”. Please see above. I have NEVER had a problem with my ability to breathe –it just becomes painful in the center of my chest. So I told the nurse, somewhat hesitantly, that I really didn’t want to take it and I was saying no. She was fine with it. And the doctor said Zero about it!

Fast forward to last week. I went in for a painful tooth. They fit me in last Thursday, just before my work out class. The dentist thinks I have a crack under an existing filling and wanted to 1) drill it out and 2) use a resin to fill it in. AT THAT MOMENT.

I don’t like the dentist. I despise and fear and all negative emotions the drilling process. I have to psych myself up for it and bring headphones and listen to VERY loud music to get through it. So yeah, NO. I said I’d wait until I could prepare myself and bring my headphones. And maybe find somewhere that I could buy a Xanax. Well, not the Xanax, but man, that sounds good!

The dentist rolled his eyes a little, but I stood my ground. I’ll put up with the pain in my tooth for my mental health. I get it dealt with in five days. With headphones!

I Bleed Blue

Not literally of course!

Our gym had its annual holiday party and awards. If it’s not evident by my previous posts, I LOVE MY GYM. I love the coaches, the members, the exercises (well, mostly!) and the results. And I have no hesitated to share that with people. In person and on the internet. And it got recognized. (oh, and blue is their color)

Go me!

So Many Emotions

I just found out that two of our coaches/trainers at my gym are leaving. These are the women who have been with me since I first joined, who walked me through my complete uncertainty and cheered me on, taught me to believe in myself and pushed me beyond anything I ever thought possible.

I’m honestly so sad I want to cry. They are leaving for good reasons, and I’m happy for those reasons. I want the best for them. But I want them with me, too. I want them to continue to walk this journey with me, celebrating the milestones that we set together. I want them on the sidelines, cheering me on and correcting my form. What will I do without them?

I haven’t been posting as of late. The biggest thing that has happened was COVID. In two days it will have been three weeks. I’m still feeling it. I missed two full weeks of gym and a week of work. All four of my kids got it, but not nearly as badly as I did. I still am winded very quickly and just get tired very easily, especially working out. It’s VERY frustrating because right before I caught it I hit a milestone of doing a Turkish get up with a 20 lb kettlebell. I just tried again on Thursday and could barely do it with a 13.

Other than that, work is challenging. I’ve been looking for a new job for awhile and just not finding something I’m interested in. Some days are ok, and some days I want to walk up to my boss and just say “I quit” and walk out the door.

So, yeah, a lot of emotions are flowing right now. I know “this too shall pass” but right now is kind of hard, so it would be nice if it would get better sooner rather than later.

Plateau

Plateau can have two very different meanings. In nature, you reach a plateau and you can see for miles and miles. In fitness, it’s a stinky place to be because you are still working hard but nothing overtly is changing. I’m still–mostly–eating great. My blood sugar is still managed very well. I’m still working out three times per week. I’m still stuck on the same dang number on the scale, as well as the same stats on the InBody. Or, hey, I assume so. I got on last month after we got back from Michigan and nothing had changed. I honestly don’t want to do that to myself again, so I’ll wait a few more months and try again.

My new goals are bench pressing with 40 lb dumbbells (I’ve been on 35s for a while now and can’t seem to move!) and for my big end-of-the-year goal, doing a Turkish Get Up with a 26 lb dumbbell. I’ve done it with a 12. And right now that’s hard. Give me four months and, yeah, I’ll probably be able to do it. Deadlifting hasn’t changed much either. I can do 175 on a regular good day. I’ve done 185 a couple of times, but that’s REALLY pushing it and I’m not great with form as much. 175 is where my form is still good.

I still honestly love working out. I may gripe about GOING to the gym, but once I’m there it’s good. Especially when I (or my coach) really push myself. It’s been 13 months since I started this whole fitness thing. I wish I could go back and pat myself on the hand and say “There, there…don’t worry so much!”

The Scale Doesn’t Tell the Whole Story

I have a love/hate relationship with my bathroom scale. In the beginning, when I started this journey and things were changing, it was lovely to see the numbers changing on that scale. My body was obviously changing and I went down a pants size. And a bra size. Which YAY!

But for the past four months I have gotten on that scale and the numbers really haven’t budged. At all. Which can be seriously discouraging. Not enough to make me stop working out or eating well, but yeah. It’s not fun.

Enter InBody. It’s a special scale at Bent on Better that somehow measures body fat, muscle mass and water. So even though my bathroom scale hasn’t moved, the inside of my body has changed. I’ve continued to lose fat and gain both muscle and water.

Yay for water, which I am still consistently drinking!

In the past 11 months I have gained five pounds of muscle and lost 21 pounds of fat. TWENTY ONE POUNDS OF FAT GONE.

Yay for me!

So I guess you could say I have a love/love relationship with InBody. It shows me the truth behind the numbers, which I really need.

Carbs and Cardio

Today I had lunch out with my friend who I haven’t seen in awhile. We both got “burrito bowls”, which I did attempting to cut down on the carbs of a tortilla. Foolish me! It was a bowl of a lot of rice (mmmmm RICE!) with grilled fish, veggies and green salsa. It was DELICOUS. That said…

I spiked. I have not really had much rice, outside of a tablespoon or two, since my diagnosis. So while I was talking with my friend I was keeping an eye on my number. When it hit 263 I was hey, can we go take a walk NOW?! So we headed outside and happily hopped on a walking trail that was conveniently just around the back of the restaurant! We walked about a mile, keeping an eye on my numbers and watched them come down. YAY for exercise!

This is only the third time in 7 months that I’ve spiked like that. And I’ll go on record as saying it’s because I DO NOT follow what the diabetes education team wanted me to do.

When I sat down with my educator last winter, I was honestly shocked at how many carbs they wanted me to eat. If my goal is to keep my blood sugar low, why would I eat something that makes it go up? I mean, yeah, I eat some carbs, but honestly not that much. And never, ever, ever without protein. They wanted me to have between 30 and 45 at some meals. Like NO WAY. I’m not trying to say ignore the professionals, but FOR ME and ONLY FOR ME, I do what works for me. And my A1C says thank you. And my endocrinologist is happy.

As a side note, man I was ZONKED this afternoon and ended up taking a nap. This is not common like it used to be before I changed my life. So I can’t help but think it’s because of all the carbs.

Tricks Coaches Play

I am all for pushing myself with higher weights. I consistently do this as much as I can. Sometimes I’ll check with one of my trainers/coaches about it, but I will usually just go for it when I think I can handle it. My most recent weight to deadlift (before Thursday) in the trap bar is 155. It was hard, but not HARD anymore so I checked with Nick, who I hadn’t had as a trainer very recently, about going to 165. He suggested I warmed up with a lower weight first and then go for it.

So I started at 135, then the next set went to 155. Then yes, I did 165, which, incidentally, was my goal for the end of June so go me! I was doing the other part of the set and Nick said “How about trying 175?”. My eyes got wide and I braced myself mentally and said “ok”. Off we went and he added weight to the trap bar. I did it. It was HARD but I did it. I took a picture of the weights and put it on Facebook, all proud of myself. Nick, in the comments, responded to my post with “Hey goofball, that’s 185!” and I was like WHAT????

He tricked me into doing 30 lbs more than my previous!! And I freaking DID IT.

For those that don’t understand what a trap bar is (as opposed to a straight barbell), here’s someone demonstrating it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNgxEhOoOjo