Wednesday, 27 February 2008

Final Dental Hurdle

I'm still coughing like a regular smoking trooper. MyMan claims he's had the same virus but minus the cold and he escaped the cough as well. In which case he has been lucky for once. Although I still feel washed out like a limp dishcloth I've tried to get back into the normal routine i.e. cooking, shopping, cleaning, nurturing. No, that last one would be a lie. I still feel a bit detached and couldn't CareLess. Tomorrow MyMan visits the dentist to have the last of 2 diseased teeth extracted. I just hope the dentist is right when he says that he should notice the difference in his general health.

I've started to worry about his lack of memory/concentration again. [MyMan's, not the dentist's] Can it only be due to weariness and depression? I still can't help but worry sometimes that he appears as if he is on the verge of Old Timer's Disease. He has had severe back spasms recently. I couldn't help but notice that he would keep bending to raise the lid of the kitchen bin rather than using the foot pedal. I asked if his leg/foot was hurting. No - it turned out the he had 'forgotten' about the pedal. Sometimes we also have great difficulty communicating on some simple issue. It's as if he can't understand what I am saying or has forgotten how to reply. When he is like this he gets increasingly irritated and fractious.

I'll have to go to see the doctor soon. I need an annual check. I've not had one for 3 years. I'll voice some of my worries when I see him.

Sunday, 24 February 2008

Carer's Get Ill Too

Carer's get ill too. It's been difficult this last week. Once I felt the virus take hold I did a quick shop to get most of the necessary stores in to cope with not going out for daily supplies. MyMan, I suggested would have to take his own prescription in to the surgery - it would be one less chore for me to worry about. He managed this but it took him 4 days to muster the strength to do so. It should now be at the chemist waiting for me to collect it tomorrow.

He kept on asking 'how he could help' but would then forget what I suggested would be helpful. Any chore from emptying the dishwasher to making a pot of tea or taking the rubbish out would elict the reponse of "I'll do it in my own good time - when I've the energy".

The worse I felt the more tired I became the less I cared. Orange juice, grapefruit juice, soup, fruit and gallons of water was all I wanted. I gave up on the idea of a hot pot of tea. I almost gave up on the idea of emptying the dishwasher. Dirty glasses, mugs, dishes all piled up on the kitchen surface above the dishwasher which now stored clean crockery. Eventually when there were no clean crocks left in the cupboard I emptied the dishwasher and started to refill it with the pile of used dishes.
"I told you to leave that - I said I'd do it! " he said.
"Yes I know - but when?", is what I wanted to know.

My not being well causes him increased anxiety. He would feel happier if I went to see the doctor. But I see no point when it is 'just a virus'. I reassure him that if there is any sign of an infection I'll go to the doctor. He is still sceptical, doesn't trust me - he sees me as a stoic. I am, but I'm not daft. I'm 'sensible' as the doctor often tells me. MyMan gets irritable when I ignore his advice. Me? - I just want to be left alone - to feel unwell- sleep when I can and ride it out. But I can't, I still have to act as care giver and provider of emotional support. My being unwell has taken its toll. However much I have tried to reassure him, this week has exhausted him.

I'm Still Rolling Along ...

I'm still rolling along ... I ended up with a hacking wheezing rattly cough. A cough and dry throat which stopped me from sleeping for most of the week. I felt exhausted. Every breathe I took made me sound as if I had an '80- a- day' habit. After a few days it eventually started to clear - now I have a streaming cold. That I can live with. It's the coughing that has been so very wearying. My chest and diaphragm muscles have had an incredible work out.

A few weeks ago I made MyMan change his massage appointment. He'd made a date to have his regular deep tissue massage on my birthday. He usually needs at least 24 hours to recover and I didn't want to spend another birthday alone with no one around to help me celebrate. All my close local friends are currently touring the wilds of south Africa, on a Caribbean cruise, or exploring the depths of south America. I was hoping that at least MyMan and I would be able to go out for a short while to the local pub for lunch.

In the event I slept on and off for the majority of the day. Only opening my cards and presents mid afternoon. I've had some lovely cards - for me as aunt, niece, cousin, sister, friend, someone special and Wife - all telling me how special I am. I also had a few texts/email messages from other folk who have been laid up with various viruses or chest infections and unable to shop or post cards along with text wishes from those travelling abroad. It was good to be remembered by so many people.

I had started to think of an informal party to celebrate my 60th next year. But if this chest infection had hit when I'd planned a 'Bit of a Do' - I would be extremely peeved. Perhaps I'd better just leave it to an ad hoc arrangement nearer the date. Meanwhile I still have a 'birthday lunch' to look forward to - maybe in a few weeks...

Monday, 18 February 2008

Three Wheels on my Wagon

Well - the diet has definitely been off for the last couple of days. I was feeling spaced out on Saturday. Then yesterday I just felt so cold all day. In the afternoon I ended up wrapped up in my dressing gown clutching a hot water bottle and eating anything and everything in sight while I sat and watched 'Gone With the Wind' on TCM. I have never seen it before. Amazing seeing as I am nearly 60 and the film is 10 years older than I.

Today I have the start of a cold. I feel crabby and clutzy. If there is anything to bang into, trip or fall over, I have. I have bruised ankles and ache from head to foot. I had toast for breakfast, ham/tomato sandwich and big CAKE for lunch and am trying to desist from eating biscuits with an afternoon cuppa. I am trying to get back on the straight and narrow.

MyMan is barely talking to me. As I feel crabby I have a very short temper. He only has to sound slightly peevishly queroulous and I am biting back sharpish. Yesterday he couldn't understand why I was watching 'trashy' TV - today he wishes I still was. There isn't room in this house for more than one invalid. I've been out to stock up on orange juice, fruit and food for the week (in case I get worse). Tomorrow MyMan may have to take his own prescription into town.

Sunday, 17 February 2008

An A Weigh Day

I'm really glad to say that I'm now 7lb [maybe 10lb] lighter than at Christmas. The doubt about the 3lb difference is down to not weighing myself until several days after the start of my change of eating habits. I found an old blouse at the back of the wardrobe which I'd not worn for 3 years. I had nearly thrown it out as far too tight. It fits again - a little snugly but presentable.

Monday will be my next 'official' weigh day. I weigh myself each morning as soon as I'm out of bed. But the Monday weigh-in is the only one which is recorded in my diary. A bit like the FTSE 100 the numbers on the scales are inclined to 'flirt' on and off with the next magic number appearing fleetingly over a few days before it becomes the regular measurement. Then I start to aim for the next 'magic' number. Perhaps like the share prices I should have the days high and low recorded.

We've had a few of our now 'usual' problems. MyMan's mood has taken a down turn again after the brief respite over the Christmas and new year holidays. He is in much pain - it is stopping him from doing what he wants to do - and making him very unsociable again. He refuses to take pain medication as he wants to 'save it' for when he really needs it. I wonder whether he means next Christmas. He has withdrawn into himself. He is short tempered and crabby to live with.

This has just highlighted how much I allow his mood to affect me. And the fact that I turn to food for comfort. I'm finding it very hard not to cheer myself up with a cake or some chocolates. I have opened a bottle of red wine; a 'medicinal' treat which should last a week. I must find other pleasures that do not involve food. I wonder whether my mother is to blame. Her and the medics. I'm beginning to think that as a child I must have been given a food based treat everytime I fell over and hurt myself. Just as the doctor gave me a sweet after every innoculation.

I'm planning a break away with an old friend and ex work colleague. A trip in the autumn back to Gloucestershire. A chance to meet with old friends/colleagues. But I do not want to be seen as 30lbs heavier than 10 years ago. I hold this thought in my mind to try and maintain my determination. I will treat myself to a massage when I have lost another 7lbs.

Saturday, 9 February 2008

Comfort Foods

Yes - the diet has been going really well. My large clothes have started to have spare spaces again. They are not as voluminous as previously but are definitely looser. As I hadn't taken much notice of the weight creeping on I have no idea what I weighed when I started to diet. I lost a few pounds before I started to weigh myself daily. Sometimes hourly! I know I shouldn't but when I'm struggling it does help concetrate my mind. Since I have been keeping a tally I know I have lost 7lbs. So maybe it is more like 10+lbs overall.

I've managed to reduce bread, cakes, biscuits to almost zero consumption. I really miss my toast and marmalade.I rewarded myself with a toast for breakfasta few days ago. But it left me hungry and looking for food for the rest of the day. Not a treat that I'll repeat in a hurry. I've increased the fruit and vegetable content. I keep an eye on reduced fat content. No wine.

Now to cope with the deprivation I have bought a small stash of treats: low calorie choc biscuits (Kitkats/Penguins). I'm the kind of dieter that likes to have something nice and unnecessary. I think about it and check that I really, really do want to eat it today. Imagine my irritation when, after thinking about a treat for 5 days and deciding that yes this was the day I'd have something, finding they had all been eaten. Eaten by MyMan.
MyMan who claims he desperately needs to lose weight . Yet who is still on full rations of all the usual foods. Who still eats toast, cakes, biscuits, cereals and puddings. He knows the choc bars are not for him. He claims he doesn't really like them. He wants me to stop buying them. Well, I don't intend to. I'll buy a mouse trap and put that in the pot where I keep my treats. That'll teach him. Meanwhile, I have 4 packs of Iced Gems (approx 100 cals). They should be safe as he still has a sore mouth and gums after his visits to the dentist.