Illness & Food

Had one of those moments of crystal-clear realization tonight...regarding just how sick I am & how it came about. Funny, you don't really look at something when you're in it, living it all the time. But tonight it sort of became clear for me all of a sudden as I was thinking back on some friends of mine that passed away a few years ago. I was thinking back to a time when we were all together in the adjunct instructors office at the college & we were talking about things without any possible realization that in very few months 2 out of the 3 of us would be alive no more. (I still can't believe they're gone, if you want to know that truth.) That I'm alive & they're gone amazes me, sometimes.

This was back in about 2000. I was already showing signs that all was not right with my heart. I had felt increasingly out of breath until once when I was in the hospital for an overnight stay to check on my sleep apnea that my lack of O2 showed up on one of their measuring instruments. I was down about 86% O2 saturation. anything over, say 96%, is considered normal. I think my doctor was stunned by this discovery, although I had been telling him that I felt out of breath all the time. He had thought it was just part of my weight issues, & never put me on a meter in the office to find out.

I was having problems with the Achilles tendon in my left leg, so I was already walking very guardedly to protect it, as I was afraid it was going to snap & I would be forced to have surgery to repair it. So I walked a little more carefully. Going up stair were a problem, so I always tried to use the elevator to avoid this extra strain. I was teaching classes--up to 4 a semester, part-time--and also working part-time at the credit union. I had just divorced a few years ago & had no safety net. I had to work, & so I juggled all I could in my life just to keep things going.

From that time on, my heart steadily declined, until I am where I am today. I had to quit teaching in 2002. Now I'm at home, living on disability, & quite limited in what I can & can't do. Mostly, I feel really wretched...body-wise. I must take many medications & the side effects are formidable. I feel like awful. Now I'm not telling you all this, dear reader, to garner your sympathy or anything like that. Actually, tonight I am mainly trying to work out the chronology of how I came to be like this. Like I said, it's difficult to be able to assess a situation when you're living it.

Next, to add to my list of health problems came the diabetes, & then the muscle problems in my legs. At first, I didn't pay much attention to the lack of strength I was feeling...I thought that this was part of the problems with my heart, that it limited my muscular strength as well. And to a certain point I'm sure that's true. But as this weakness increased, I was forced to examine it more & more. So I underwent a battery of tests & diagnosed a form of muscular dystrophy: inclusion-body myositis. Well. Ok. Now what? Not much I can do. It's slow-moving, thankfully, & I'm trying to exercise to, first, aid my heart, but also to work those thigh muscles daily. I suffer some muscular pain that I assume is connected to this, but this is no where as great a problem to me as the arthritis that I now suffer in my hips & knees. Sometimes, quite regularly, actually, it will wake me up from a sound sleep until I must wake up & change positions or take some acetominophen. This arthritis comes as part of the aging process, but certainly more because of the extra weight that I carry & have carried for most of my adult life. I've done this to myself.

But for the first time in my life, I am exercising on a regular basis. At least 5 days out of the week, 20 minutes on the treadmill. 20 minutes seem like nothing to you? Hoo-hoo!! It took me ages to get past 15 minutes! And it is helping. My legs hurt less often & I can feel a gradual lessening of my belly fat (something that is very important to heart health, actually). I've even lost a few pounds. And it's funny, you know, because I feel so guilty if I miss a day. Drives me crazy with guilt! I get up in the morning (or P.M., sometimes), drink some tea & head downstairs to walk, most days. Having the TV right there makes it great because I don't think I'd be able to keep this up without something to put my mind on while walking. It IS boring! But it is also good for my heart, & that's a huge criteria for me in what I can accept & keep in my life these days. I'm on a mission of survival.

This is what what I eat is so important as well. Food as medicine. It IS! And if you think it isn't, have another 64 oz. slurpy & let's have this talk again in 15 years. I am wracked with guilt about eating foods containing white flour or sugar, these days. I try to counter-balance this by eating the RIGHT foods most of the time. But it is hard. Especially for me, as an acknowledged food addict. Being a foodie aside, I also have a definite addiction here. And one that I won't be able to stop! So I have t0 learn to deal with food. And right now I'm coming to recognize--through keeping a food journal--my problems lie mainly in portion control. Of course, I could watch what goes through my lips a little better, but all in all, I have a pretty good handle on what I eat. Now if I could just do with less of it. But keeping the journal helps me to stay real (although sometimes I get sloppy & lapse a few days).

More about food choices later...