Vitals
191 fasting  blood sugar - Yay!  Finally reached below the 200s
Weight - skipped it.  Didn't want to spoil my fasting 'high' or low

2 days missing. I'm sure my fans (0) are terribly afraid I've given up and bailed.  But actually, I've had 2 very sick dogs.  Annie crashed on Thanksgiving just as I was serving dinner.  Seizure. Right there.  Me screaming for Rowland and afraid she was dead on the spot with our dinner guest trying to act nonchalant.  She survived, barely.  But it did put a damper on Thanksgiving.  At least I ate less.

Row and I woke up and thought it was her 'time'.  But he wagged her tail and so we had hope.  Down to the clinic with Annie and Millie.  Both blood work was near perfect.   Annie has serious gastritis.  As the vet said "Pequeno perro es hacer Annie enfermo".  Millie is making Annie sick.  Stress kills.

Millie was the picture of health.  Just a little diarreah.  By the next day, Millie was coughing and we thought she might of swallowed something and we hoped it would pass.  But by 11pm it was non stop.  So down to the vet (we can walk it, it's just around the corner - I guess we keep it in business).  Turns out she has highly contagious kennel cough and needs lots of meds and to be kept under watch so it doesn't turn into pneumonia.  Keeping Millie away from the fam has turned out to be a nightmare.  She screams.   She loves sleeping next to them.  And keeping the dogs from smelling Millie and licking her is near impossible.  Annie's doing better, and having less of Millie is helping her stress.  But more of Millie is stressing me.

I had to move my appointments back with Patrick because Millie screams if I leave her side and Rowland can't work.  I am not rethinking Millie, but I have certainly forgotten the challenges of puppy hood especially a sick one.

Going for a sugar free day!!!

Vitals
213
Weight - didn't bother

coffee with 1tsp sugar and milk

Oreos are getting the best of me

Wednesday
Vitals 3 days ago
250 fasting
160 pounrds
Word of the day - frustrated.  didn't really eat sugar yesterday - lost weight - go Adkins but sugar was higher.  Yikes level
Walked Mr.  1 mile

Went to see Patrick.  First visit.  Lots to talk about.   Cannibus for sleeping.  Micro-current.  And yes the deadly coffee enemas.  Shingles of John's friend.

Thanksgiving
225 fasting
Word of the day:  Confused
Eat sugar but was mostly good, no walk but sugar was lower.  Don't get it.

Our first turkey trot.  Annie almost died.  Between puppy and Annie no sleep.

Mr B and I fill out the wellness forms

Vitals
238 fasting sugar
Weight - 160 .2
Feeling:  word of the day - schizophrenic (half happy/half sad)

Nutrition - ha!
7:30 - coffee - lst with sugar, 2nd no sugar
10:30 Breakfast -
2:30 Lunch -
4:00 Snack -
6:30 Dinner -
9pm -
2 metformin, bp, chlor, 6 niacin, 10 kidney pills, 3 cups bark-o-tea,

Exercise

The Daddy Babysitter (middle) takes care of Eva (left) and Millie (right)

Millie is on her puppy schedule.  Up at 2:30 for her to pee and drink water so she can pee some more. Up at 5:30 so she can pee, poop and drink water so she will wake up again in another few hours to pee.  Also playtime.  She is working on taking off my right index finger and knawing on my wrist.  Do you think she's trying to kill me?  She also accidentally bites my boob every so often.  It's big and shakes and maybe she thinks it's some kind of balloon toy.

I wake up and it's softly raining but that's going to throw my walk off.  Every dog (all five of them) are asleep on the bed.  Sammi, the shepherd, is trying to make friends will Millie by lapping her big tongue on her face.  Her tongue is longer than Millies face and after a couple of lickings, her entire head looks like it's been hit with a firehouse.  Mr. B is showing his distaste for her by shunning Millie.  The little old girls have moved to the foot of the bed.  I think they are considering jumping off it to commit suicide.  It's a long jump for miniature dashies.

I grab Mr. B up and take him in the spare bedroom (that I used to call Hankie's room) where I usually land in the morning to write and read before the daily mayhem begins.  Dog politics are running high in the house.  Every morning Hankie and I would get up and come in this room and I would read and have coffee.  I needed Mr B to join me so the memories of this room would get replaced with something alive.  Millie hasn't stopped my sadness.  Only time can help with that.  But changing dynamics is worth the try.

As for my health plan.  I really thought I did better yesterday.  And it's frustrating that even without eating a bag full of Oreos I'm still at 238.  I am definitely learning how fundamental exercise is and know I could knock at least 30 points off this number if I'd walk today.  But it's raining.  I'm not one of those Olympic type girls that get up in the freezing cold to ice skate my ass off for 8 hours before having a protein drink and skating again for another 8 hours while nursing my blisters and chanting 'be strong, be strong'.  I was very athletic growing up and active -- but also very much a girly girl.  But girls my age gave up those types of things so pretty much after 6tth grade, I traded chin-ups for the more traditional sit on the bleachers and watch play football.

I love the fact that it's raining but I hate the messing up of my exercise program.  If I was alone I would consider putting music on and dancing for an hour.  But the key word is 'consider'.

I'm about the dwelve into reading the 34 page document from Cuenca Holistic Wellness Center where I will divulge the intricacies of my eating and lifestyle habits.  I really don't have a lifestyle yet, but I am hoping they will find me a great, positive one.

I will fill them out in pencil, as I'm am non-committal in all things in life.

Note:  I don't know how to use spellcheck on this so fuck it.  I also have a computer that doesn't type certain letters sometimes.  It's always doing lie instead of like.  So that mistake is not Freudian, it's Microsoft fucking with my head..

Day 5 - Can Millie keep me from eating Oreos

Vitals
231 fasting sugar
Weight - not today senor
Feeling:  word of the day - Foreboding.
Also, tentative and a bit sscared.  Like I have to  go to work today and I'm dreading it..  And I don't want to give up my tools for running away from feelings.  I'm happy now, and the thought of digging up bad things I've done or that were done to me makes me anxious and sad. 

7:30 - coffee - lst with sugar, 2nd no sugar
10:30 Breakfast - roasted chicken & 2 deviled eggs
2:30 Lunch - large salad with chicken and peanut/thai dressing
4:00 Snack - Green drink - strawberries, kale, almond milk
6:30 Dinner - chicken with some brown rice
9pm - Tablespoon of peanut butter
2 metformin, bp, chlor, 6 niacin, 10 kidney pills, 3 cups bark-o-tea,

Walk - 1 1/2 with Mr. B
Mr. B's Mood - Dr. Jeckel and Mr. Hyde.  Plays with Millie, but by night time hated her.  Jealous.


Millie and I had a delightful night of getting up and down through the wee hours.  I need this.  She actually slept in my gown part of the night and at 5:30am decided it was time to get up to eat.

She LOVES food and screams like I'm killing her when I pick up her finished bowl.  As if screaming before dawn will get her a side of beef.  I feel tentative about loving her.  Like I'm betraying Hank  As a bassett she'll get too big for me to make her my baby.  Milly may be Rowlands dog after all.  But having her bare skin across my chest this morning makes me almost feel like crying - it's so sweet,

I started back on the anti-depressants.  I guess I'm not ready to stop.  I think it was moving into something much worse - like clinical depression.  I'm so happy all the time towards everyone.  And it's genuine.  I'm happy to be with friends.  But being an introvert, it wears me out.  I feel like I could stay in the house forever and probably need that much time to fill the cup that became so empty.

I did great on the health plan yesterday until around 8pm - when I sprung for 12, yes 12 cookies.  Oreos.  What is this with the late eating?  I already had sugar in my coffee this morning.  When I got to a 6.7 on my A1C I had sugar in my coffee but no more sugar after that.  I feel like a failure.  So today, I will try again.  But the answer to the question is NO, Millie did not stop me from eating oreos.  Good news - I just found an Oreo that rolled off the bed - so I only had 11 cookies.

I see Patrick-opath on Wednesday.  After he see's what he's up against, he may show me the door.  Which isn't all bad because there is a New York Pizza restaurant across the street.

Day 4 - Sometimes you can buy love

Vitals
7"30
231 blood sugar
178 after walk
 weight 161.2
9am walked Beagleman around 1 1/2 miles
10:30am Breakfast - 1/2 ham sandwich with cheese

2:30 - leftover chicken enchiladas with beans (saucer size)

3 cups bark-o-tea

8pm - 12 oreos - mother fucking oreos

WTF.  I totally screwed up yesterday including drinking a bottle of wine and eating a Hershey bar.  Neither of which made me feel better (well, maybe the hersheys). 

Row and I both had our breakdowns yesterday.  Struggling over our losses.  Tiff and Hankie.  They gave us no notice.  NONE.  How can someone just die on you. 

I just did a 'what the fuck; and jumped into the black hole of depression.  I cried for an hour.  I just can't get over Hankie's death.  This dog was my heart. 

I had stopped anti-depressants a month ago and  felt I was okay.  And so did Row.  And we weren't okay.   It is so evident that the drug does help us.  The tidal wave of grief of losing our dog, combined with the first anniversary of Tiffany's death was too much.

I believe it was Rosie O'Donell who said, "Having depression is like having an open window into your mind.  All kinds of bugs can come in.  Anti-depressants are like putting a screen on the window.  It helps keeps the bugs out."

I like that.  And as of today, we are back on them.  I also did something that I didn't want to do, but felt it could help and right now I could use all the help I can get.  It's Milagro -(Spanish for miracle) or Milly.  She's a husbpuppy that we bought (yes sorry) at felibre libre (I think that's the market's name).  She was sitting in a wire cage with a bunch of other dog breeds (or races as they say here).  She was sound asleep and when I picked her up she barely moved.  I was afraid she was sick  So I bought her.  And Rowland really liked her.  He picks good dogs, and I go with his instincts.  He's also in charge of naming dogs.  And he named her before he even got the money out of his wallet.

I feel guilty buying a dog.  But as Row said, sometimes you rescue a dog, and sometimes a dog rescues you.

Here's a picture of her sleeping on Row's arm.  I think he needed this as much as me.  We got Hankie on Thanksgiving day.  We were at a very rough spot in our marriage - mostly due to me.  And we were thinking of splitting.  But decided to get a  dog instead like when couples 'get pregnant' to try nd save a marriage.  We needed a diversion.  A reason to look ahead instead of where we were.  Hankie was our dog, that is until my dog Emily died and Hankie saw an opening to be my one and only. 

He slept inside my gown almost every night.  Even as an adult.  So I just got bigger and bigger gowns.  I would post his picture here, but it hurts to much to see him.  But he was a precious long haired tan dachshund who acted like a puppy until he died at age 10, 12 - whatever, it was still too soon.

So maybe Milly can help us heal.  If one of the other dogs don't kill her first.  Maybe Millie can do what Hank did.  He came into my life when I really needed someone to love and someone to put some glue on a marriage that was coming apart.  Looking at how glued Millie is to Rowland right now, it seems like she already has a big head start.

Day 3 - No bread senorita

Vitals
7:30
233 fasting blood sugar
162.2 weight

7:30 - cup of coffee/milk NO sugar

9am Walk with Mr. B
10:30am
206 blood sugar
Breakfast:  roasted chicken, asparagus, 2 eggs and mushrooms

2pm wine for lunch and half a hamburger (see notes below)

7pm more wine and one piece of pizza

Hopefully ambein and nothing more
Grade for today # out for 5

Nearing the 100s but it's still 34 points away.  I'm frustrated.  If I could just make myself not eat anything after 7pm and also cut out bread I'd be fine.  I did eliminate sugar but went crazy with the soy sauce yesterday.  Sometimes I wish I could just have an induced coma to get throught this.

There's two challenging things I'm trying to do.  Get in physical/metal shape, and grow a pixie cut out.  I'm not sure which one is harder.

When I was a kid in 6th grade, I had the longest hair in school and was up for the role of the 'mermaid' in our school play.  Then two dreaded things happened.  A new girl moved to town with longer hair and snatched that plum role from me AND my mom took me to the hair salon for my first cut and surprised me by telling the woman to chop my hair off to my shoulders.  I was devastated.  A few weeks ago, when I was with my 84 year old mom, she commented that when I was a kid I insisted on getting my hair chopped off.   It's funny how our memories rewrite history to justify the harsh things we do. 

I remember sobbing so loud that the hair dresser stopped and I was left with a very lopsided hair cut and ended up playing the part of a stagecoach (yes, concealed in a box shaped like a stagecoach) at the class play.  The folks didn't show up anyway.  But I've had short hair ever since.

Now that I'm 60.  I want to either grow my hair to my waist (ha) and try to get a mermaid role or when I reach 145 cut it back to a pixie.  Not sure which one.

Here's a shot of me on my September 11 (what a great date) birthday straddling the 60th stair (out of 470) at Turi.  I don't want to do before and after shots here.  My self esteem is low enough without shaming myself.  But you get the picture.

So I'm suppose to also track my feelings.  I had nightmares last night.  I dreamed that Rowland collapsed and stopped breathing and I was giving him mouth to mouth and he turned into my recently deceased dog which got very sick when I was out of the country for a wedding and ended up in the emergency clinic.  I feel tremendous guilt because if I wouldn't have gone to the states, Hankie would still be alive.  He died after two agonizing days in the clinic, and I stayed with him all day until they kicked me out at night and prayed, chanted, held his little paw.  But during the middle of the night, the vet called Hankie was gone.  There is an empty spot on the bed beside me where he sleep every night but there is an even bigger hole in my heart which as of now, seems bottomless.  I woke up sad.  Did tapping - EFT, an energy balancing method,  to try and erase those memories.  Poured a big cup of coffee and cried like a baby while everyone slept.  Checked on Row and he was still breathing.  So one out of two ain't bad.

But oddly enough, I am happier now than I have ever been.  The brief sad moments don't consume me like the bag full of grief I was carrying around.  But I have to admit, losing Hankie is harder than losing Tiffany, the step-daughter I helped raise.  Unconditional love is always harder to lose.  But losing both within a year  has been gut wrenching.  Both their deaths Quick.  No notice.  Here one minute, gone the next.  Like  a  brief strong summer storm that moves quickly through your heart leaving devastation behind.

I could really use a donut right now.

Got back from my walk from Mr. B and row was in a tear.  He needs to be on anti-depressants and me as well..  Losing his daughter and our dog, moving, starting a new job full-time, learning the language -- it's a lot for anyone to handle.  Especially row.  I am sure he has Tiff's problem, bi-polar.  He has problems focusing on anything and is up most of the night.  He looks different when he's manic.  Most of the time he's a dear, but when the manic side comes he judges and rages a lot.  And buys every "Buy Now and get Shipping Free" item off tv.   His eyes are wide and round  The hair on his head and eyebrows stick up. He's face is pulled up.

But when it is directed as me I'm afraid.  His hair stands up including his eyebrows.  We walk Samantha, but he's mad.  Mad at my for ever existing.  After a block, when he rages at me for pulling the dog off the street and tightening the leash, I turn back.  I write a note saying I've packed my bags and have left.  I ride the number 5 until it ends.

I call him, out of love and guilt.  He is riding he number 3 till it ends.  I say meet me at Coffee Tree.  I cry for 30 minutes before he gets there, missing Hankie.  I would never have left when Hankie was alive.  He needed a home.  I needed peace.  And Hankie was enough for me to be  okay.  I tell the waitress my tears are for my dog, but she thinks I said I cried because the food is bad.   I hate Spanish.  A neighboring table lets her know what I meant.  I leave a big tip.

Row arrives and he is right that I shouldn't threaten to leave.  Leave a note. 

I just want a few years of not being circled by the dysfunction of  both me and men.  I just want peace.  Patrick-opath may be disappointed that I drank the day away.  But maybe he will help me.  Is it me or the world. 

Do I create my own dysfunction and chaos?  Am I strong enough to live a different life.  Are there men that exist that make life easy?  Is that in the cards for me?