Letter to my friend

My Dear Friend,

I've been texting you for days to see how you were feeling, if you needed anything, if Gary was taking care of you. I've been reminding you that you're old and need to take it easy and just take whatever time you need to heal.

I've been telling you that everything is fine on our crew, assuring you that I'm not really going to cut off Tommy's fingers because of his non-stop tapping, even though we both know that I threaten him on a daily basis.

I've assured you that my trainee is progressing well, that Adrienne has everything under control and that we all are playing nice.

I wasn't overly concerned when you stopped responding because I know how much you hate your cell phone and the habit you have of turning the damn thing off when you get home. I wasn't concerned at all because we all knew you'd be okay. This was a bump in the road, a warning that was recognized and acted on before something terrible happened.

Saturday when I went to work someone asked if I knew how you were doing. "She's doing great!" I cheerful replied, joyous in my ignorance.

This morning I found out that I'd misunderstood the question, I wasn't being asked how your surgery went, they were asking how you were since you went back to the hospital on Friday. What? You went back to the hospital? What happened? No one knew how you were doing so I called your house...no answer.  I called your cell...no answer. I called the hospital and talked to your nurse, who could tell me nothing but gave the phone to your daughter.

My heart broke when I heard what happened. It's still breaking.

When I got off work I went straight to the hospital to offer my support for your family, but they weren't there. The nurse said they had just left and might be getting something to eat. Perhaps I wanted to search them out in the cafeteria. "No", I told her, "I don't want to bother them." Instead I wrote them a letter offering my help with anything they needed.  I remember so clearly what it's like to sit day after day in a hospital waiting room, to hold the hand of your loved one as they fought for their life.  I remember eating nothing but hospital food for a solid month, dreaming of a home cooked meal. I remember trying to figure out who could watch Bella while I was away. I remember feeling so alone, so fearful to leave for even 10 minutes to eat.

I wanted your family to know I was there for them, I could cook meals and bring them to the hospital, I could watch your grandchildren so your children could be with you, I could do laundry so Gary could have clean clothes. Whatever they needed I would do. I would take care of your loved ones as you'd offered to take care of mine.

As I sat in the waiting room I thought about all the times we went outside to talk, all the times I would break down in tears over Brandi's tribulations, all the times you would hug me and tell me it would all be okay.

I remembered you teaching me how to crochet the beautiful baby blankets I made for Bella, and how you promised to teach me how to can fresh vegetables for my family.

I remembered how only a few weeks ago you were telling me about items you planned to make for Brandi's next fundraiser.

I remember how each day we would show off new pictures of our grandchildren and how we talked about the joy their births brought into our lives.

I remember the last night we worked together before your surgery, how you poured out your fears to me while I lightly brushed them aside with a "no worries, easy peasy...you'll get through this without a hitch." I believed what I said, I really truly did. I remember hugging you tightly, rubbing your back and telling you that I loved you, how much I valued your friendship, and promising you everything would be okay.

You know what else I thought about while sitting in the hospital waiting room? I thought about my birthday and how I didn't want a normal birthday dinner but instead wanted nothing but appetizers. I remember how you bitched for days trying to get me to change my mind and how I stood my ground. It was MY birthday and I wanted what I wanted.  I remember watching you wrap dozens of little smokies in dough so I would have exactly what I want, bitching and moaning the entire time but the twinkle in your eye and the smile on your face telling me you where happy to do it because it's what I wanted.  I remember how I suggested the same food for your birthday dinner, with you making the Lil' Smokies because you had sooo much experience. I remember your immediate response of "BITCH" and the way we both cracked up laughing.

I have years of memories with you but I need more. I need to learn how to can, I need to learn how to crochet better, I need....I just need MORE.  I need to hear your voice again, I need to hear you laugh and say "Well, BOCCIE BALLS!" when something didn't work the way you wanted it to. God, I love your laugh!

I'm scared, I'm so terrified that the fear has a numbing affect. I can't imagine not seeing you everyday, not sending you stupid pictures with sassy sayings about your coffee addiction. I can't imagine never tasting your homemade salsa again.

Please get better, please, please, PLEASE don't stop fighting. You can come back from this, I know you can. Your friends need you, your family needs you. Just FIGHT your way back to us and we'll all be here waiting to share the fight with you.

Just...come...back.

Thoughts on Week 1 Dieting for a D.A.D. results

Tonight I did my first weigh-in for my Dieting for a Dad fundraiser. Just to refresh your memory, I'm trying to lose 100 lbs in the next year and have 30 people who have pledged to donate $10 for every 10 lbs I lose to Brandi's Diabetic Alert Dog fund at Warren Retrievers.

Although my overall goal is to lose 2 lbs per week, my secret goal was to lose 10 lbs the first week. I know, that's a LOT of weight in a very short time, but I have a lot of weight to lose and I knew going into this that you normally lose the most weight during the first week. Honestly, I wanted to end my first week by having everybody sending in their $10 donation.  I knew the upcoming weeks would be a much slower weight loss, so I really wanted...NEEDED...that first 10 lbs to come off quickly.

So tonight after we got home from our JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes I climbed on the scale only to find I'd only lost 5.6 lbs...over 4 lbs less than my goal. I was so disappointed in myself. I've worked so hard, stayed under my calorie limit each day, hell, I even did a three mile walk today.

With a heavy heart I posted the results on our Facebook page and wrote an apology for only losing a little over 5 lbs...which I quickly deleted before posting.   As soon as the weight was up for everyone to see I started having people congratulate me on a good job...and it WAS a good job, just not as good as I had hoped.

So there will be no donations this week, but you can bet your sweet bottom that there WILL be one next week....oh God PLEASE let there be one next week!

As I begin Week 2 I am as committed as ever to reaching my goal. I will continue to log every single bite that enters my mouth, I'll drink water until I think my eyes are going to float away, I'll do whatever it takes to be successful in the quest....not just for the money I'll raise, but because my daughter needs me to.

Hope at the 2012 JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes

Today was the second year we have walked in the JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes and I figured it was going to be a crazy day of alerting for Hope. After all, there were probably a thousand people there and you've already heard stories of how she alerts to people everywhere we go.

I was wrong.

We had a lot of people who came up and asked us exactly what Hope could do...lots of people who asked if their blood sugars were out of range, but she didn't alert to a single one of them.

Then, as she was sitting under the table waiting for the walk to begin Hope began alerting. First the paw, then the whining, then trying to run away...which she has never done before.

I finally grabbed her leash and let her go, wondering what in the heck she was doing.  Hope initially headed across a field and went where Bella was playing with her grandpa, so I (mistakenly) assumed she just wanted to make sure Bella was okay, but then she sniffed the ground a couple of times, made a sharp turn and right up to a boy playing ball...and alerted...REALLY ALERTED.  She pawed, she licked, she tried jumping up on him, with me yelling SIT as firmly as I could.

I asked the boy if he was diabetic and he said he was, so I explained what Hope does and told him his blood sugar was probably off and should be checked.  He immediately ran to his family to check.

I didn't see the boy again during the walk so I have no idea what his blood sugar level was, but I have no doubt it was off...Hope hasn't been wrong yet.

What really amazed me was the fact that this was the first time in public that Hope has ever alerted to a person in a crowd then physically hunted them down to give them a personal alert. I wish you could have seen her..she was like a dog on a mission!

Guilt

For weeks Bella has been begging me to take her to see the movie Hotel Transylvania. Like me (and her mommy) she was born with a love for watching movies on the big screen. I think it must be something in our genes because my mom and sisters have the same love.

For our family every trip to the movie theater began with a trip to the concession stand where I would always get the same thing: a medium bag of popcorn with extra, extra, EXTRA butter, a small plastic cup in which I would pour about 1/4 cup of popcorn salt, a package of dip n dots chocolate ice cream, a large coke with extra ice, and often one additional snack - like twizzlers or cookies.  

If you're keeping count that comes to about a kazillion calories.

I've been putting off taking Bella because I was afraid of the concession stand. I know it's pathetic, but I really, REALLY love theater popcorn and I wasn't sure I was to the point where I could handle the temptation.

It ends up I was right...sort of.

Yesterday afternoon Bella and I went to see the movie and just as expected the popcorn started screaming my name the minute I stepped through the door. Armed with the small container of fruit  I had in my purse (shhh, don't tell anyone I was bringing food into the theater) I felt strong enough to make our purchase.

My inner self was saying, "Shoulders back, chin out, deep breath...walk nonchalantly to the concession stand...you can do this!" but the moment the theater employee asked what he could get for me an evil demon took control of my body and I blurted out, "I'd like a medium popcorn with extra, extra butter, a bag of twizzlers, a large coke with extra ice and an empty small plastic cup." followed immediately by "WAIT! Stop....I need to change my order!"

Taking a deep breath I asked the man to go to next customer while I thought for a minute.  Breaking out my Lose It program I quickly started looking up calories.

When it was my turn again I calmly placed our order of a small popcorn with light butter, a bag of twizzlers, a cherry Icee (for Bella) and a LARGE bottle of water...and an empty plastic cup and two cardboard serving trays.

Then Bella and I went to smaller counter where they keep the popcorn salt.  I meticulously measured out two cups of popcorn on each tray and sprinkled just a small (yes Lynda, small..minuscule even) amount of salt on it, ripped open the twizzlers and placed 6 of the licorice treats on my tray, 2 on Bella's then immediately threw the rest of the candy and popcorn in the trash.

Okay, it was still a lot of calories..550 to be exact, BUT I decided it would be my cheat day and I still ended up 487 calories under what I could eat for the day.

I'd like to take a small break to point out that I didn't have a single soda yesterday...unheard of for me!

Anyway, I made my choices and ate the popcorn kernel by kernel instead of shoveling it in by the handful. I was feeling pretty good about what I did....until this morning.

This morning I feel guilty.  The moment I walked up to that counter I forgot about the fruit in my purse...completely forgot it even existed.  And although I stopped myself from eating all I normally do and managed to stay under my calorie limit, I still made some poor choices.  I should have chosen popcorn OR twizzlers, but not both.  I should have had chosen butter OR salt, but once again...not both.

I'm not beating myself up...but I do feel guilty. So I'm going to take that guilt and learn a lesson from it. Next time we go to the movies I will bring enough money for the tickets and nothing else.  I will bring in healthy snacks (hidden securely in my purse.), will take control of my urges. I will remember how I felt this morning and will not let history repeat itself.

At least that's the plan.

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today was not a good day, not a good day at all.

I try to surround myself with warm loving people, they give me peace and serenity. I find solace in the goodness that surrounds them. They make me happy.

However there are times when you have absolutely no say in who surrounds you, and that just pretty much sucks.

I tend to be pretty outspoken. If I have a problem with someone they know it, because I tell them. Not in a mean way, but a "Hey, this is becoming an issue for me and I was hoping we could come to a compromise" kind of way.  It's hard for me to sit back and say nothing, yet that's what I was asked to do...so I did...and as the day wore on it was like a negativity spewing demon was sucking the air out of the room and filling it with a putrid acid vapor. I won't mention names because it's not helpful to the situation. I will say it was none of my friends or family.

Instead I'll say this...

If you spend hours talking about people behind their backs then nobody will respect you because we're wise enough to know if you do it to them you're most likely doing it to us.

If you can not find one positive thing to say for hours on end then perhaps the issue isn't with everyone that you're finding fault with...it would appear that you are the common denominator so perhaps the issue is YOU.

I don't want to hear you talk negatively about anyone, whether I like them or not is not the issue, it's not right, it's not fair, and it certainly isn't professional.

Making snotty comments under your breath doesn't make you smarter and being rude to people doesn't make you better...it makes you a bully and I have no tolerance for bullies.

And finally, a piece of wisdom that my father instilled in me when I was a small child....

If you don't have something nice to say, then sit down and SHUT UP! It is better to be presumed a fool  than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.

Mawmaw Boots

As I sit here typing tonight's blog entry I am watching my mom at her computer catching up with all her friends on Facebook.

I love my mom...adore her. She has not had an easy life and like everyone else who has ever lived she has made some mistakes.  She raised three girls as a single parent, put herself through nursing school while working a full time job as a waitress.  She took charge of her life, pulled herself up by the boot straps and made something of herself.

We really bonded while we cared for my beloved Pop during the last several months of his life. Although he isn't my biological father I loved him absolutely as much as I do my dad, and he was hands down her soul mate, the love of her life. When he died a part of her died with him.

They had a big blended family, 5 daughters and 1 son, 17 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren...and mom is truly the glue that holds us all together. Every holiday brings us all together in her small house. It's crowded, and loud, but there's nowhere else we'd all rather be.

My mom is so much more than a mother to me, she's become one of my best friends. We can (and do) talk about everything. She's dried my tears and calmed my fears throughout our journey with Brandi's illness. Her house is Bella's second home, she spends at least two nights a week there while I work and when Brandi is in the hospital it is the only place she wants to stay.

My mom is a rock, but tonight she's scared. Tomorrow she has surgery to remove a growth on her vocal chords. We don't know if it's cancer yet, although the doctor has told us if it is she will have to get radiation treatments. The worse part of all this will be the wait, it may take up to two weeks to get the biopsy back telling us what the future holds for her.

I'm trying to not be scared, but I am. I deny it when I talk to her, but I can't imagine a world without her in it. I love my mom, I NEED my mom. I need her to be okay.

You'd think by now our family would be use to these medical bumps in the road, but we aren't. We'll get through this, by the grace of God the biopsy will come back showing no cancer, but if it doesn't our family will do what it always does...circle the wagons, search out the best doctors and do whatever we have to do to get her through this so she is once again healthy and happy.

Please remember my mother in your prayers tonight. We believe in the power of prayer and we believe that lifting a person up to God makes a difference.

And we're off!!!

Today is the first day of the Dieting for a D.A.D. challenge...and after yesterday's weigh-in I'm more than ready to get this weight loss journey started.

So far there are 27 people who have asked to join to share my journey and I'm happy to say that many of them are not only sponsoring my weight loss, they're taking it a step further and have decided to lose the weight along with me. 

Today when I checked our Facebook page I saw so many people who found the courage to tell everyone their true weight. If you've never been overweight you have no idea how hard it is. It's not just stepping on the scale that's hard, it's being willing to put it all out there for others to see.  You have to admit your weakness for food, hold your chin up high above the shame you feel and announce to the world that it all ends TODAY.  You will never again see those numbers on the scale, you will never again be held powerless to the allure of food. 

We are stronger than our cravings, we will take control of our lives and we WILL succeed!