Yikes!

For the past couple days I've been stressed. And you can tell it too...from my eating habits!

Last week I had trouble all week eating over 700 or 800. This week, I doubled that in one day. Granted, most of my eating yesterday was okay. At dinner time I'd eaten just a little over 300 calories. But although it wasn't gak (empty calorie junk food) for the most part, it also wasn't very nutritious. I'd eaten 2 Triscuits, about 20 calories of crumbled goat cheese, 2 containers of sugar-free apple sauce, a South Beach Diet oatmeal cookie, a slice of crustless apple pie from a recipe I was testing before I need to take it to a friend's house Friday night (good, and about 50 calories per slice), and a container of low-fat raspberry yogurt. Then, for dinner, since I couldn't think of anything to fix, we went to Macaroni Grill.

Ken and I have gotten back into the habit of splitting a plate which is nice. It means that we don't waste quite as much food, and neither one of us is as tempted to over eat. That's what we did at Macaroni Grill also. Since we were splitting, we decided against the lowfat chicken plate and got the grilled porkchops (how fattening can something that's grilled be anyway). I asked for the sauce on the side, because I'm picky about sauces, always have been. Some I really like, others I won't eat. This sauce was really good, but I'm glad I got it on the side since the porkchop was fine by itself. The side items were broccoli and risotto...which I'm guessing is the problem. The risotto was delicious, there was a whole slice of portabello mushroom in my half which I ate with relish (they split the meal and brought it to us on two plates). I'm hoping that the whole mushroom will slightly skew my actual numbers, and I am soooooooo glad that we split a plate, since when I got home and looked up the nutrition facts for our dinner, it was 1800 calories! Yikes!

Since the sauce wasn't a heavy sauce, and the porkchop was grilled, I'm guessing that most of the calories are from the risotto (and if I'd read before hand how risotto is made, I would have known to avoid it...they fry the rice before boiling it! Double yikes! Luckily I only ate about half the items on my plate, so it didn't send my calories spinning out of control, but still. From now on, I'm going to start checking nutrition before we go out to eat! :)

Prequel

I woke up this morning thinking about writing about CR, so I guess that's today's topic...which means that Triska will have to wait until tomorrow. :) The forum's web servers are down this morning anyway, so maybe that's a push to write what's fresh in my mind instead. :)

I enjoy reading other people's CR blogs. That's how I discovered CR in the first place...I was looking for a recipe and came across April's CR Blog. It didn't have the recipe I was looking for, but I paused a few moments to read the blog and bookmarked it to check again later.

Later was a few months later, when I was moving my bookmarked blogs over to my new reader. I noticed April's blog again, and once again the recipes sounded interesting, and I started wondering about this CR that she kept referring to.

Finally, after a few days of having her posts pop up at the top of my reader, I decided to check out some of the links on her page to see if I could figure out what CR really was. (I probably should have just written and asked, but I'm much more of a researcher and am always a bit nervous when I write to someone I don't know.)

Checking her links lead me to Mary's CR Blog, and to the Calorie Reduction Society. By now I had figured out that CR meant calorie reduction, and that CR was usually used as short for CRON (Calorie Reduction/Optimum Nutrition), but beyond that I was still rather lost.

Through the winter I continued to read April's and Mary's blogs whenever I'd notice them in my reader. Now, for a North Carolinian, winters in New York aren't a lot of fun. Ken and I pretty much coccoon ourselves in our little house, leaving only for work (Ken) or to take a family trip once a week to a restaurant and then to the grocery store. Not that we cook a lot during the winter...the groceries are mostly for J's and my lunches while Ken's at work. In the evenings, we tend to alternate between pizza and chinese...the two restaurants that deliver around here. If we get tired of pizza, then we order steak and cheese subs from the same restaurant. :)

So, by the time spring arrived, I knew that we needed to do something to change our eating habits. I'm really not much of a pizza eater, and by the end of winter, I was craving fresh fruits and veggies. It seemed like the perfect time to start exploring CRON more earnestly.

My first stop was to the bookstore. I was determined to find a book that would help explain the information I'd gleaned from my internet surfing. It took a couple trips (and a couple not-quite-right book purchases) but I finally came upon the book Beyond the 120 Year Diet by Roy Walford. If you like lots of research, this is definitely interesting reading. If you don't, there is still a lot of good information in it, including suggested recipes and a way to get started with CRON.

CRON, Triskabiblios, and Oblivion

No, none of these things really go together, except for the fact that they are all holding a large part of my interest lately. :)

Oblivion is the newest Elder Scrolls game, put out by Bethesda Software. When I first played Morrowind, the precurser to Oblivion, I was amazed. For years I'd been wishing for a game that would play something like Zork, or even NannyMud, but that was perhaps more open-ended than either of them, and that was graphic-based. I wanted a game that would be like reading a good novel where the story path wasn't guessable after the first couple chapters, and you didn't follow a straight path that lead neatly to a happy ending.

To be honest, I didn't think that what I wanted in a game was possible to have with a graphics based game...but then I discovered Morrowind and Wow! It really is possible to have an opened-ended game that has a great storyline, but you're not forced to play anything in straight lines, and even fighting is often optional. Until Oblivion came out, Morrowind was my absolutely favorite game of all time. But then Oblivion finally was released.

I go back and forth with Oblivion. I love it, there's no doubt about that, and the graphics and the character interaction is absolutely wonderful, but is it better than Morrowind? Honestly, I'm not sure. There is more "required" fighting, which I really enjoyed not having in Morrowind. With Morrowind, I had a game that I really enjoyed right out of the box, without resorting to any cheats or mods. With Oblivion, some of the fun and easy ways to grow attributes and gold pieces are removed, and so once again, it feels like fighting or using a cheat is forced on you as the only way to make significant money without having to put in hours of game time first.

Okay, now I'm off to play some more, so I will write about everything else later (hopefully tomorrow). :)

The Trapdoor Society - The Good Samaritan

The Trapdoor Society - The Good Samaritan: "Julie's quote that got me started:

"To me, faith is about being called outside of our safety zones (our places of wealth and comfort) and into the risk of living for the other, of identifying with those who have not, whether or not we've got our spiritual p's and q's lined up."

This got me to thinking about what faith is to me. Freewrite follows:

To me faith is clinging on. It's holding on to God when I have no idea of the future or even of the next few days. Perhaps it's just where I am right now...a 2 year old who's good, but still active and needs a lot of attention, and a husband who works 10-12 hours a day, often 7 days a week and of course, the constant back problems, but my faith doesn't really consist of much action right now, outside of just holding on...to J to keep him out of trouble, to Ken for the little while we see each other each day, just so we know the other's there, to the stroller or cart when I go out to the store (only partly to keep J in, also to give me something to lean on if I need it), and to my sanity as we go through this period and I keep reminding myself that "this too shall pass."

I look at J. He's not quite 2...his birthday is the 13th of next month, and I see the way he goes through the day. He knows that I'm there whenever he needs me, so he can be brave because of that. That's faith to me. I'm going to be there no matter what he does, and I'll even be closer when he's trying something new or scary. He knows that I'm here, and I've watched him grow because of it. Things that used to scare him, now might only scare him if Mommy or Daddy aren't close, or perhaps not scare him at all. Because he knows that we're there for him. This is faith.

It's not keeping him safe. This little boy likes to walk around the edge of the bed. If I act nervous, he'll even jump up and down. He's fallen several times, but then he gets up and does it again (no matter what Mommy wants). So faith isn't about staying safe.

His faith was tested one time. Ken sent J and me to NC about 3 weeks before Christmas. Ken joined us there a week later, but the damage had been done. J wouldn't even look at him for about a day. His Daddy had gone and hadn't returned when he was supposed to, and J was upset with him. I'm like this sometimes too. I expect God to be there, even when I'm the one who's left. And I get upset when He's not.

So, I guess my goal for my faith is to be like a little child. He's learning and growing, but most of all he's trusting. Not blind trust, not trust without some basis in fact, because since before he was born, I was there caring for J. But unconditional trust. Trust that says that if Mommy and Daddy are there, it's going to be okay."

BrainTalk Communities - I Am A Lousy Friend

Just a couple items I found that I liked (neither were written by me, sorry):

BrainTalk Communities - I Am A Lousy Friend:
LETTER TO PEOPLE WITHOUT CHRONIC PAIN:

"Having chronic pain means many things change, and a lot of them are invisible. Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, most people do not understand even a little about chronic pain and its effects, and of those that think they know, many are actually misinformed.

In the spirit of informing those who wish to understand.
These are the things that I would like you to understand about me before you judge me...

Please understand that being sick doesn't mean I'm not still a human being. I have to spend most of my day in considerable pain and exhaustion, and if you visit, sometimes I probably don't seem like much fun to be with, but I'm still me-- stuck inside this body. I still worry about school, my family, my friends, and most of the time I'd still like to hear you talk about yours, too.

Please understand the difference between "happy" and "healthy". When you've got the flu, you probably feel miserable with it, but I've been sick for years. I can't be miserable all the time. In fact, I work hard at not being miserable. So, if you're talking to me and I sound happy, it means I'm happy. That's all. It doesn't mean that I'm not in a lot of pain, or extremely tired, or that I'm getting better, or any of those things. Please don't say, "Oh, you're sounding better!" or "But you look so healthy!¨ I am merely coping. I am sounding happy and trying to look normal. If you want to comment on that, you're welcome.

Please understand that being able to stand up for ten minutes doesn't necessarily mean that I can stand up for twenty minutes, or an hour. Just because I managed to stand up for thirty minutes yesterday doesn't mean that I can do the same today. With a lot of diseases you're either paralyzed, or you can move. With this one, it gets more confusing everyday. It can be like a yo-yo. I never know from day to day, how I am going to feel when I wake up. In most cases, I never know from minute to minute. That is one of the hardest and most frustrating components of chronic pain.

Please repeat the above paragraph substituting, "sitting", "walking", "thinking", concentrating, "being sociable" and so on ... it applies to everything. That's what chronic pain does to you.

„ Please understand that chronic pain is variable. It's quite possible (for many, it's common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I'll have trouble getting to the next room. Please don't attack me when I'm ill by saying, "But you did it before!" or Oh, come on, I know you can do this!¡¨ If you want me to do something, then ask if I can.

In a similar vein, I may need to cancel a previous commitment at the last minute. If this happens, please do not take it personally. If you are able, please try to always remember how very lucky you are--to be physically able to do all of the things that you can do.

Please understand that "getting out and doing things" does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. You don't know what I go through or how I suffer in my own private time. Telling me that I need to exercise, or do some things to get my mind off of it¨ may frustrate me to tears, and is not correct if I was capable of doing some things any or all of the time, don't you know that I would? I am working with my doctor and I am doing what I am supposed to do.

Another statement that hurts is, "You just need to push yourself more, try harder..." Obviously, chronic pain can deal with the whole body, or be localized to specific areas. Sometimes participating in a single activity for a short or a long period of time can cause more damage and physical pain than you could ever imagine.

Not to mention the recovery time, which can be intense. You can't always read it on my face or in my body language. Also, chronic pain may cause secondary depression (wouldn't you get depressed and down if you were hurting constantly for months or years?), but it is not created by depression.


Please understand that if I say I have to sit down/lie down/stay in bed/or take these pills now, that probably means that I do have to do it right now - it can't be put off or forgotten just because I'm somewhere, or am right in the middle of doing something. Chronic pain does not forgive, nor does it wait for anyone.

If you want to suggest a cure to me, please don't. It's not because I don't appreciate the thought, and it's not because I don't want to get well. Lord knows that isn't true. In all likelihood, if you've heard of it or tried it, so have I. In some cases, I have been made sicker, not better. This can involve side effects or allergic reactions. It also includes failure, which in and of itself can make me feel even lower.

If there were something that cured, or even helped people with my form of chronic pain, then we'd know about it. There is worldwide networking (both on and off the Internet) between people with chronic pain. If something worked, we would KNOW. It's definitely not for lack of trying. If, after reading this, you still feel the need to suggest a cure, then so be it. I may take what you said and discuss it with my doctor.

If I seem touchy, it's probably because I am. It's not how I try to be. As a matter of fact, I try very hard to be normal. I hope you will try to understand. I have been, and am still, going through a lot. Chronic pain is hard for you to understand unless you have had it. It wreaks havoc on the body and the mind. It is exhausting and exasperating.

Almost all the time, I know that I am doing my best to cope with this, and live my life to the best of my ability. I ask you to bear with me, and accept me as I am. I know that you cannot literally understand my situation unless you have been in my shoes, but as much as is possible, I am asking you to try to be understanding in general.


In many ways I depend on you - people who are not sick. I need you to visit me when I am too sick to go out... Sometimes I need you help me with the shopping, cooking or cleaning. I may need you to take me to the doctor, or to the store. You are my link to the normalcy of life. You can help me to keep in touch with the parts of life that I miss and fully intend to undertake again, just as soon as I am able.

I know that I asked a lot from you, and I do thank you for listening. It really does mean a lot.



------------------





TIPS FOR DEALING WITH PEOPLE IN PAIN:

People with chronic pain seem unreliable (we can't count on ourselves). When feeling better we promise things (and mean it); when in serious pain, we may not even show up.

An action or situation may result in pain several hours later, or even the next day. Delayed pain is confusing to people who have never experienced it.

Pain can inhibit listening and other communication skills. It's like having someone shouting at you, or trying to talk with a fire alarm going off in the room. The effect of pain on the mind can seem like attention deficit disorder. So you may have to repeat a request, or write things down for a person with chronic pain. Don't take it personally, or think that they are stupid.

The senses can overload while in pain. For example, noises that wouldn't normally bother you, seem too much.

Patience may seem short. We can't wait in a long line; can't wait for a long drawn out conversation.

Don't always ask "how are you" unless you are genuinely prepared to listen it just points attention inward.

Pain can sometimes trigger psychological disabilities (usually very temporary). When in pain, a small task, like hanging out the laundry, can seem like a huge wall, too high to climb over. An hour later the same job may be quite OK. It is sane to be depressed occasionally when you hurt.

Pain can come on fairly quickly and unexpectedly. Pain sometimes abates after a short rest. Chronic pain people appear to arrive and fade unpredictably to others.

Knowing where a refuge is, such as a couch, a bed, or comfortable chair, is as important as knowing where a bathroom is. A visit is much more enjoyable if the chronic pain person knows there is a refuge if needed. A person with chronic pain may not want to go anywhere that has no refuge (e.g.no place to sit or lie down).

Small acts of kindness can seem like huge acts of mercy to a person in pain. Your offer of a pillow or a cup of tea can be a really big thing to a person who is feeling temporarily helpless in the face of encroaching pain.

Not all pain is easy to locate or describe. Sometimes there is a body-wide feeling of discomfort, with hard to describe pains in the entire back, or in both legs, but not in one particular spot you can point to. Our vocabulary for pain is very limited, compared to the body's ability to feel varieties of discomfort.

We may not have a good "reason" for the pain. Medical science is still limited in its understanding of pain. Many people have pain that is not yet classified by doctors as an officially recognized "disease". That does not reduce the pain, - it only reduces our ability to give it a label, and to have you believe us."

Medicine and Maps

Sometimes I feel like I should be a doctor. Not because I really want to be one, but because I've been there, and I could know what my patients are going through. Add to that my love of research and I bet I would make a pretty good one. :)

The only problem is that I really don't want to have to memorize the names for the bones and muscles of the body. That was what kept me out of the health field in college too...I was thinking of either becoming a mathematical psychologist or a lawyer and then I heard that nursing students could get full scholarships. I already had most of my psych degree done, so I thought I'd take one semester of nursing courses and see how I liked it before I decided whether or not to apply for the scholarship. Well, one semester was enough. I actually enjoyed the science classes, all but one. Only problem is, that one was required in order to get the nursing degree (or any medical degree) and I really didn't want to spend the time trying to learn it.

There are two things in my life that I've discovered that I have a hard time learning. One is maps. I can read a map if I have it in my hands, but don't give me a blank map and ask me to fill in the areas. I can memorize them enough to fill out questions on a test if I really cram for it, but as soon as the test is over, so is the knowledge. My husband really couldn't understand why I had such a hard time with maps until I asked him one day, quite seriously, if China was in Africa. After that he tells me that he'll teach our children geography. The other thing I have a hard time learning is the bones and muscles, etc. of the body. I can remember the big ones, but once it gets to the smaller ones, it's about like learning a map. With a lot of study I can remember it for a test, but after that it's gone.

I don't know why maps (of people or areas) seem to affect me like that. There really isn't anything else that is that hard to learn (at least that I've found so far). I usually just joke about it, and people who know me just think its another of those things that makes me quirky. :)

But, if I could figure some way to get through the class where you have to learn the map of the body, I might consider going to medical school. They say that people learn psychology who want to understand themselves. So why do most people become doctors? Unfortunately, I'm afraid that most become doctors because they like the money and prestige that comes with it.

Marrying a doctor was not something I ever pictured for myself. I knew too many doctors as friends, and knew about the midnight calls and never really having a day off. So I married an engineer instead...and would you believe they have the same midnight calls and often no real days off (there's always the chance of an emergency call, even when you're on vacation). Maybe I'll encourage my children to either play sports or become musicians. :)

I do wonder though, what would happen if more doctors were people who'd been through it already? I read one time that Obstricians had the highest approval rating of any type of doctor. I wonder if it's because most have children of their own, so they can emphesis with their patients? My first OB was pregnant with her first child while I was pregnant with mine. It was great. We discussed things like which car seat is the best, along with all the usual questions you ask during a pregnancy. Because she knew exactly what I was going through, no question sounded silly, and answers were always forthcoming, unless she didn't know, and she'd tell me that too. I had absolutely no doubts about the doctor I'd chosen.

So I wonder, as someone who suffers with chronic pain and is now also dealing with nerve problems, if maybe I shouldn't go back to school and get my medical degree. Even if it does mean trying to learn another map. I wonder if I'd have something to offer to patients that is sadly lacking in most of todays medical arenas.

The Spoon Theory

Spoons: I wish I could say that I wrote this. I didn't, and there are bits that probably don't exactly apply to me, but it's such a great description of living with a chronic illness that I think everyone should read it.

"My best friend and I were in the diner talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me this time, with a kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know? I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands. I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices, or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of choice, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said " No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her a spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared”

Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons".

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my 'spoons'."

Bone Scans and Jumpies

Yesterday I had my bone scan. Compared to other tests I've had, it really wasn't that bad, outside of having to lay on a hard table for over an hour. My back was not happy afterwards, and I'm paying the price for it today. If the scan doesn't show a problem with my upper back, I'll be surprised. That's one of the main aches today, and since it isn't a steady pain, I can't just ignore it like I usually do with the others. Ouch.

At 10 yesterday, I had to be at the hospital to be injected with radioactive isotopes. From research I'd done previously, I knew that the amount of radioactivity I'd be given was the equivalent of 200 x-rays. What surprised me was that it was such a small amount inside the syringe. When I had my CT scan, I was injected with a syringe full of something (outside of telling me what was going to happen, no one was really telling me what was going on and I was still mostly in shock from the accident so I wasn't thinking about asking) that burned, burned, burned when it went in (okay, I know it's not supposed to, but it did). This time the shot was such a small amount that I barely even felt it.

After getting injected, I had 3 hours until I needed to be back, to give the isotopes time to circulate in my blood and find any areas where my bones were rebuilding. But, since I had enough radiation now to set off a geiger counter if anyone pointed one at me, I couldn't be close to J. K had taken the day off work to watch him, and he wasn't worried at all about being close by me. One day I should figure out how much radiation I've had as a result of accidents. I had about 40 x-rays the day of the accident, and last time I had a few, then went to a chiropractor who used a machine that takes about 40 in a row, giving the effect of a moving x-ray. I've had at least one CT scan from the first accident and one from the second, more x-rays at the doctor's office from the second one, and now the bone scan. Wonder if I'll glow in the dark eventually?

During the day wasn't so bad avoiding being near J. He's very good at falling asleep in his stroller, and I was actually having the scan done when he fell asleep, there at the hospital. For J, daytime is Daddy time if Daddy's home and not working. Night time though is Mommy time, and that's when he really started realizing that Mommy wasn't getting close to him. K and I had discussed a few options before hand, and actually had planned to go to the drive-in that night and then if J was still awake afterwards, to get a hotel room, which we figured would make it easier for him to fall asleep by himself, since it wouldn't be where he was used to being. Instead, K wasn't feeling the best, so I ended up leaving him and J at home and I got to go close down the bookstore. I was glad when 11 this morning finally rolled around and I was no longer dangerous.

PS K kept referring to the isotopes as jumpies. He and P, a friend who works with him were having fun referring to K's HOT wife.