Let's talk gymlife for a minute.
For some people, including me, going to the gym isn't as simple as putting on workas out clothes, grabbing a bottle of water and walking in the building.
It's almost a ritual for me, a fine line balancing act, and I nearly have it down to a science.
I try to check my blood sugar about an hour before I go. If it's 175 our less I need to jack up my carbs. 30-45 minutes on the elliptical will drop me 100-150 pts, which would be dangerous if to low. I try to take a cup of vanilla Greek yogurt with fruit mixed in, and granola to sprinkle on top to work with me for a pre work out snack. I will drink a soda with it, if my sugar is to low. Sugary drinks will raise blood sugar fast, but will result in a fast crash also. Protein at the same time will balance that out a little and help to stabilize blood sugar(yogurt has decent protein).
Then I have to keep glucose tablets at hand, just in case I didn't estimate my sugar need high enough. I can't easily have them on me while working out, so I keep them in a locker, so then have a lock I need to try to remember the combo for as my brain is slowly shutting down. I often write the combo on my wrist so I can show someone if I need to ask for help.
Pain is the next issue. Sometimes walking from the car to the building is difficult, the elliptical would be impossible except for my pain meds.
I try to medicate about an hour before I go, so they will be at their peak. If everything is perfect at work it will work out. Sometimes its not and I can't even guess when I will be leaving. So I medicate just as I leave work. That means I sit in my rig and wait for the meds to kick in, burning precious sugar that I already jacked up. Even sitting you burn carbs from breathing and your heart beating, as well as your brain thinking. It's not much but when you try to keep your carb intake up just enough to handle the workout it can throw things out of whack.
Then you finally get in the building, lock your stuff up and head to the elliptical. Step up and start moving. And then you realize that it still hurts, badly. You try to push through it, knowing that though it hurts, it's not doing any damage. You end up stopping every 5 minutes or so, and after 20 minutes of that song and dance you just give up, especially since it really doesn't feel like much of a work out with all those stops.
Grab your stuff and head home, knowing now your blood sugar is to high and you will have to take insulin to counteract the carb loading.
The guilt hits later. You know you need the exercise and you really did try, but that effort that was all for nothing has now taken 2 hours out of an evening you could have spent with your husband. So you decide to take the next day off to spend with your partner and family, but feel guilty because you know you really need to work out. The circular thinking sucks.
Don't judge. That person going slow, stopping often, and quitting after just a few minutes may have a chronic condition that makes it difficult. They may want to do more, but it's physically impossible.
RSA
Showing posts with label life goes on. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life goes on. Show all posts
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Strong for Life, Or how do you do what you do
I often get told I am one strong woman. I don't see myself as such. Here is my response to that statement.
Strong... Depends on the day :) I have many days I close myself in the bathroom and cry and feel sorry for myself and my life, then put on a happy face and go back to life. I'm in a facebook group for spousal caregivers and it's been a lifesaver. I can say things there I can't elsewhere for fear that people will think I'm a horrible person or say negative things about it when I just need to vent. I can talk about anything, kids, hubby, me.... Someone there has been there done that thought that. I think half my friends would drop me fast if I said something like how much easier it would have been if he had never woken from the coma 2 1/2 years ago, half of the rest would say things along the lines of how can you think something like that. The remaining 25% would vary between texting, messaging or calling to ask what's up and why are you thinking that, and saying I understand, what can I do to help.
Usually those feelings happen when I have to cancel something I'm looking forward to because he needs me. I married him knowing he had parkinsons (triggered by surgery to repair a brain aneurysm), and a probable stroke during the surgery(he had underlying parkinsons, the brain trauma kicked it into high gear).
I'm an RN and I know better than most what will happen with the parkinsons, that only makes it easier from a clinical standpoint, not as a wife. They discovered the leukemia after we were married. It wouldn't have changed the outcome, I still would have married him.
The kid...she's a lot easier to face, mental illness is a lifelong illness. It could get worse at any time, and I am thankful she's as stable as she is. When she was a teen it was harder emotionally for me. All the what ifs, how will she be able to do anything, live her dreams, what will happen if something happens to me, will she have to live at home forever (I wouldn't mind, but it would mean that she's not likely living her dream of becoming a marine biologist). Its also not a terminal disease and new medications and treatments come out fairly often and are much better at managing the disease. For her there is hope and always will be. She is currently unmedicated by her choice. She's managing it with learned techniques, She's outspoken about mental illness and doesn't hide it, so all her friends and professors know.
It's life, you do what you have to. You fall down, you have a tantrum, you pick yourself up and step back up to the plate for the next inning.
Life goes on.
Life in and of itself is a terminal disease.
Life has a way of going on.
You find the small victories and hold to them tightly, because when there are setbacks you need a victory to remind of the good in life.
Strong... Depends on the day :) I have many days I close myself in the bathroom and cry and feel sorry for myself and my life, then put on a happy face and go back to life. I'm in a facebook group for spousal caregivers and it's been a lifesaver. I can say things there I can't elsewhere for fear that people will think I'm a horrible person or say negative things about it when I just need to vent. I can talk about anything, kids, hubby, me.... Someone there has been there done that thought that. I think half my friends would drop me fast if I said something like how much easier it would have been if he had never woken from the coma 2 1/2 years ago, half of the rest would say things along the lines of how can you think something like that. The remaining 25% would vary between texting, messaging or calling to ask what's up and why are you thinking that, and saying I understand, what can I do to help.
Usually those feelings happen when I have to cancel something I'm looking forward to because he needs me. I married him knowing he had parkinsons (triggered by surgery to repair a brain aneurysm), and a probable stroke during the surgery(he had underlying parkinsons, the brain trauma kicked it into high gear).
I'm an RN and I know better than most what will happen with the parkinsons, that only makes it easier from a clinical standpoint, not as a wife. They discovered the leukemia after we were married. It wouldn't have changed the outcome, I still would have married him.
The kid...she's a lot easier to face, mental illness is a lifelong illness. It could get worse at any time, and I am thankful she's as stable as she is. When she was a teen it was harder emotionally for me. All the what ifs, how will she be able to do anything, live her dreams, what will happen if something happens to me, will she have to live at home forever (I wouldn't mind, but it would mean that she's not likely living her dream of becoming a marine biologist). Its also not a terminal disease and new medications and treatments come out fairly often and are much better at managing the disease. For her there is hope and always will be. She is currently unmedicated by her choice. She's managing it with learned techniques, She's outspoken about mental illness and doesn't hide it, so all her friends and professors know.
It's life, you do what you have to. You fall down, you have a tantrum, you pick yourself up and step back up to the plate for the next inning.
Life goes on.
Life in and of itself is a terminal disease.
Life has a way of going on.
You find the small victories and hold to them tightly, because when there are setbacks you need a victory to remind of the good in life.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
My cynical life
I hate doctors. Each time I take Lee to one they point out something I should have seen. Something that shows a progression of the Parkinsons. I live with him. I'm with him every day. I see what's happening. Yet I don't really see it.
It took a doctor today, a urologist at that, to point out how Lee is standing up from a chair. How he is leaning far forward, which is a high risk for a fall. He's already a high fall risk, and knock on wood... It's been a couple months since he has fallen.
I hate that I have to work, I wish I could stay home with him. If I could then we could have our own place. But he can't be alone 9+ hours a day, so we live with my parents.
I am really in need of a little vacation. Bekah and I want to plan a no plan drive east vacation. Just get in the car and drive until we get where we are going, which is to say... Nowhere. No plans, just pack and go.
I'm now realizing I probably won't be able to do that. We talked about trying to reserve the fire look out again and just me and her going. I don't know if that will happen either.
Parkinson's sucks. Bad.
It took a doctor today, a urologist at that, to point out how Lee is standing up from a chair. How he is leaning far forward, which is a high risk for a fall. He's already a high fall risk, and knock on wood... It's been a couple months since he has fallen.
I hate that I have to work, I wish I could stay home with him. If I could then we could have our own place. But he can't be alone 9+ hours a day, so we live with my parents.
I am really in need of a little vacation. Bekah and I want to plan a no plan drive east vacation. Just get in the car and drive until we get where we are going, which is to say... Nowhere. No plans, just pack and go.
I'm now realizing I probably won't be able to do that. We talked about trying to reserve the fire look out again and just me and her going. I don't know if that will happen either.
Parkinson's sucks. Bad.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Life is a terminal disease
"Life is a terminal disease". A nursing instructor said that my first year of school. A terminal disease is one that will end your life eventually. Everyone dies, just some people sooner rather than later.
When you are told you have a disease that will kill you eventually, probably, how do you respond? How do you react? What do you say to others? How do you go on? Do you lock yourself in your room and have a good cry? Do you pretend everything is normal and good? What do you tell your kids, husband, parents? Do you pretend to be ok when you really are falling apart inside?
There is no answer. You just do it.
You do what feels right.
You get up everyday, get dressed, go to work, go shopping, to the gym. You just keep going.
You want to give in, to give up, to not break down, you don't want to get out of bed. But you have to, because life goes on, with you there or not.
Eventually you get to the point where you are doing more than just functioning, more than just going through the steps, you start to live again. But life is different now and you are living a new normal. You go on day to day, week to week, month to month. Life becomes a schedule of tests and procedures, of doctors appointment. You plan around them and you learn to live life a new way.
You have to live it, because life goes on, despite being a terminal disease.
When you are told you have a disease that will kill you eventually, probably, how do you respond? How do you react? What do you say to others? How do you go on? Do you lock yourself in your room and have a good cry? Do you pretend everything is normal and good? What do you tell your kids, husband, parents? Do you pretend to be ok when you really are falling apart inside?
There is no answer. You just do it.
You do what feels right.
You get up everyday, get dressed, go to work, go shopping, to the gym. You just keep going.
You want to give in, to give up, to not break down, you don't want to get out of bed. But you have to, because life goes on, with you there or not.
Eventually you get to the point where you are doing more than just functioning, more than just going through the steps, you start to live again. But life is different now and you are living a new normal. You go on day to day, week to week, month to month. Life becomes a schedule of tests and procedures, of doctors appointment. You plan around them and you learn to live life a new way.
You have to live it, because life goes on, despite being a terminal disease.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Life as We know it
This ones harder to write, and encompasses a lot of feelings and emotions.
It's about my husband Lee.
We met about 7 years ago. Our first date we arranged to meet at Hammers coffee in the mall.
We sat and talked for hours. Before we knew it they were closing up and telling us it was time to go. It felt so right. I felt like I had known him forever. I was in love, but because of my past history I wouldn't accept it.
We started dating and grew closer and closer.
After about five years we moved in together.
We had so much fun. Hiking, camping, vacations, day trips, hockey games, watching movies, and just being together.
Then Thanksgiving happened. Lee got a really bad cold. He got up at 4 am, got dizzy, fell and hit his head pretty hard. I kept an eye on him and in the morning took him to urgent care. He had a sinus infection pretty bad, and they did a CT scan just to make sure everything was ok.
They told us there was something there but they weren't quite sure what but it was probably just an artifact and to follow up with his doctor.
We did a week later. He ordered an MRI, and discovered this thing, probably an artifact was a brain aneurysm.
Thus started a whole string of events , doctors, surgeries and hospital stays.
The first surgery was a full craniotomy, where they opened up his skull and proceeded from there. The aneurysm was sitting on the optic nerve. He was slowly losing vision in that eye and we hadn't noticed.
Once in they discovered the aneurysm was to close to the sinus cavity to safely clip it, however, they were able to move it which left him a candidate for a 2nd type of procedure called a coiling, where they insert a wire, break it off and the body forms a clot around it sealing it off so it will never rupture. The 2nd procedure was a success.
The first surgery though, it left him in a wheelchair, unable to walk more than a couple steps without falling.
It left him dependent on me and the multitude of therapists and nurses that were in and out of our home every day.
He learned to walk with a cane and now manages that pretty well, though on occasion needs his wheelchair.
A few weeks after the second procedure he was diagnosed with Parkinsons disease. We suspected this so it really wasn't much of a shock. He got on meds, the tremors stabilized, and life goes on right?
We decided to get married a couple months later. July we got married in a simple, sweet ceremony with all our family around. It was wonderful and life felt perfect.
Just a few short months after our perfect day we get a call from Lees internist. His white blood count was up and could he come in for a repeat tomorrow as well as some other tests. I remember that day. His WBC was 12,000. Normal is 4-10000. Only a little up, but they wanted to make sure there was no infection. He had a urinalysis done as well as a chest xray and blood cultures.
A week later the tests were back, and all negative. No sign of infection anywhere, and a WBC that was now in the 20s.
Off to a hemotologist/oncologist for a consult.
One bone marrow biopsy and a few weeks later we got the results. the big C. Cancer. that evil and most unholy word ever. He is Philadelphia and BRCA1 positive, both considered positive results for chronic myelogenous leukemia. All I heard was leukemia.
we went back to the waiting room for some more tests they wanted to do. While waiting I stepped out into the hallway and called work to take the night off. I needed a night because I was ready to have a break down in a bad way.
That is how we got to where we are today.
I know thats long for background, but it's important.
It hit me bad. Yes Lee is a lot older than me, that's never been an issue. I knew the odds are that I would outlive him, simply because he is 29 yrs older than me. Then in one year he was given two terminal diagnoses.
The world slammed to a screaming stop for me, but I could still see it going on around me.
I wanted to get mad. I wanted to scream and yell and tell everyone to stop because it was over.
I couldn't though, because as life has taught us Life MUST go on.
I'm a nurse. I take care of kids that shouldn't have been alive. Kids that were given a few months, maybe a couple years to survive. I take care of kids that gave their doctors a big FU and lived. Not just survived, but LIVED.
Going to work while all this was going on with Lee gave me a little hope.
A little sunshine in a dark world.
Kids who don't know the meaning of "you aren't supposed to be able to do that" showing me that no matter what happens it's ok somehow.
The few hours a day I spend with these families have taught me that doctors don't always know it all, and to never give up looking, hoping, and praying.
The families that inspire me for the simple reason that they never gave up.
So many times in life it's so easy to sit back and look at the big bad broad picture. It's so easy to get wrapped up in the why us mood. Its so easy to be selfish and forget that there are others out there with problems....but then when you sit and play with a toddler it's all in perspective... the big picture becomes small and you learn quickly that if you have the wrong teddy bear at bedtime the world will end.
And you eventually realize that yes, Life will go on.
It's about my husband Lee.
We met about 7 years ago. Our first date we arranged to meet at Hammers coffee in the mall.
We sat and talked for hours. Before we knew it they were closing up and telling us it was time to go. It felt so right. I felt like I had known him forever. I was in love, but because of my past history I wouldn't accept it.
We started dating and grew closer and closer.
After about five years we moved in together.
We had so much fun. Hiking, camping, vacations, day trips, hockey games, watching movies, and just being together.
Then Thanksgiving happened. Lee got a really bad cold. He got up at 4 am, got dizzy, fell and hit his head pretty hard. I kept an eye on him and in the morning took him to urgent care. He had a sinus infection pretty bad, and they did a CT scan just to make sure everything was ok.
They told us there was something there but they weren't quite sure what but it was probably just an artifact and to follow up with his doctor.
We did a week later. He ordered an MRI, and discovered this thing, probably an artifact was a brain aneurysm.
Thus started a whole string of events , doctors, surgeries and hospital stays.
The first surgery was a full craniotomy, where they opened up his skull and proceeded from there. The aneurysm was sitting on the optic nerve. He was slowly losing vision in that eye and we hadn't noticed.
Once in they discovered the aneurysm was to close to the sinus cavity to safely clip it, however, they were able to move it which left him a candidate for a 2nd type of procedure called a coiling, where they insert a wire, break it off and the body forms a clot around it sealing it off so it will never rupture. The 2nd procedure was a success.
The first surgery though, it left him in a wheelchair, unable to walk more than a couple steps without falling.
It left him dependent on me and the multitude of therapists and nurses that were in and out of our home every day.
He learned to walk with a cane and now manages that pretty well, though on occasion needs his wheelchair.
A few weeks after the second procedure he was diagnosed with Parkinsons disease. We suspected this so it really wasn't much of a shock. He got on meds, the tremors stabilized, and life goes on right?
We decided to get married a couple months later. July we got married in a simple, sweet ceremony with all our family around. It was wonderful and life felt perfect.
Just a few short months after our perfect day we get a call from Lees internist. His white blood count was up and could he come in for a repeat tomorrow as well as some other tests. I remember that day. His WBC was 12,000. Normal is 4-10000. Only a little up, but they wanted to make sure there was no infection. He had a urinalysis done as well as a chest xray and blood cultures.
A week later the tests were back, and all negative. No sign of infection anywhere, and a WBC that was now in the 20s.
Off to a hemotologist/oncologist for a consult.
One bone marrow biopsy and a few weeks later we got the results. the big C. Cancer. that evil and most unholy word ever. He is Philadelphia and BRCA1 positive, both considered positive results for chronic myelogenous leukemia. All I heard was leukemia.
we went back to the waiting room for some more tests they wanted to do. While waiting I stepped out into the hallway and called work to take the night off. I needed a night because I was ready to have a break down in a bad way.
That is how we got to where we are today.
I know thats long for background, but it's important.
It hit me bad. Yes Lee is a lot older than me, that's never been an issue. I knew the odds are that I would outlive him, simply because he is 29 yrs older than me. Then in one year he was given two terminal diagnoses.
The world slammed to a screaming stop for me, but I could still see it going on around me.
I wanted to get mad. I wanted to scream and yell and tell everyone to stop because it was over.
I couldn't though, because as life has taught us Life MUST go on.
I'm a nurse. I take care of kids that shouldn't have been alive. Kids that were given a few months, maybe a couple years to survive. I take care of kids that gave their doctors a big FU and lived. Not just survived, but LIVED.
Going to work while all this was going on with Lee gave me a little hope.
A little sunshine in a dark world.
Kids who don't know the meaning of "you aren't supposed to be able to do that" showing me that no matter what happens it's ok somehow.
The few hours a day I spend with these families have taught me that doctors don't always know it all, and to never give up looking, hoping, and praying.
The families that inspire me for the simple reason that they never gave up.
So many times in life it's so easy to sit back and look at the big bad broad picture. It's so easy to get wrapped up in the why us mood. Its so easy to be selfish and forget that there are others out there with problems....but then when you sit and play with a toddler it's all in perspective... the big picture becomes small and you learn quickly that if you have the wrong teddy bear at bedtime the world will end.
And you eventually realize that yes, Life will go on.
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