On the slimming front, right after I said that I had made no progress in the last few months, I measured myself and was down an inch in both my waist and my hips. ‘Could be muscle mass, of course. I suppose I should try to weigh myself since I am spending the afternoon in the land of magical medical devices. Not quite the Nutcracker’s land of sweet surprises but I do feel both nutty and cracked. I guess I have been better than I had imagined. I do need to get back to the daily food log, though. That was critical for success for me and I have dropped it. Let’s try again:

Wednesday, Feb 2nd: breakfast–frozen Jimmy Dean bacon biscuit–350. lunch-grilled cheese sandwich-400. Dinner will include the konbucha I bought and maybe a spinach salad. I have some frozen shrimp that needs eating also. That all sounds pretty good.

Let’s see now, if my connection with the Kaiser internet still works…

So far today I have had a Jimmy Dean frozen breakfast sandwich (bacon/egg/cheese biscuit) worth 340 c. It tasted OK, but didn’t seem overly filling. I’d say that my stomach was unshrunk, but I went out to Indian dinner the other night and I know that I ate less than I would have a year ago. Still, I weigh less than I did a year ago, so that only puts me at the break even point. I have started the process of clearing out my NASA office–harder than I thought in every way imaginable. I did, however, find some old photos, including some of me. A bunch of them made me look like a whale. I was stunned to see myself that huge. A couple reminded me that I can be pretty cute, actually. More motivation. What am I waiting/hoping for? I need to get back into the habit of drinking ice water.

I’m here because my heart medicines haven’t been working and they are trying something that requires hospitalization. Luckily I came prepared. I have books and a computer and internet access. How cool is that? They will bring me food soon, I think, and maybe even a menu! They needed to weigh me and someone magically appeared with a huge portable medical scale. The bad news is that I have not lost a pound since before Thanksgiving. The good news is that I haven’t gained anything either. I am clearly out of the “zone” and equally clearly need to get back into the “zone”. IN the mean time, I think I need to write a book about this heart stuff. It seems that everyone and their brother (actually father and mother, but hey) has A-fib of some sort. If I’m going to become an expert on such things, I may as well be organized about it.

Disheartened as I am–both literally and figuratively, I grudgingly admit that things are better than they were. Since the surgery, I have not felt as if I were about to pass out if I cross the room. I can actually climb stairs, and I can even walk around the block. Whoop-di-doo.

Still, I am exhausted all the time, resist waking up, fail to sleep through the night, avoid writing (hence no posts since October) since then I have to deal with at least some level of reality, and am procrastinating myself into a hole.

On an upbeat note (why do heart metaphors seem so ubiquitous, not to mention apropos?), I made it to Canada for Christmas and proved to myself that I can still get out of town, even if I did have to come home early.

My last entry to my food log was November 23rd. Perhaps I can forgive myself for ignoring the holidays. I have been more than a bit indulgent. The various new meds I am taking make me constipated, water retentive, depressed, tired and generally miserable. I have a ton of excuses, it seems, for ignoring calorie counting, and they may even be compelling from a certain perspective. On the other hand, my health motivation for weight loss is surely greater than ever. If there’s even a chance that my condition could be improved by more slimming, then how can I not reach for that chance? Or worse, if there’s a chance that slipping back into old habits could be unwittingly self-destructive, then how can I take that risk? Clearly I need to get back on track. No year like the present. Hmmm.

Everything I read about my official diagnosis–atypical, recurrent, persistent, left atrium flutter–gives pause, to say the least. The condition is rare and so not well understood or well studied. Ablation surgery fixes 2/3 of the cases, and I and clearly in the other 1/3. The meds don’t seem to work much. It’s all a big mess. I hate to confess that wine doesn’t help. I seem to be able to drink a couple of glasses fairly safely, but if I go over that, my heart thunders, races and generally acts up at 4 in the morning. What a helleva new-fangled hangover… Of course, eating seems to have a bit of the same effect. Right after I eat something, I feel as if I’m racing and pounding.

I clearly need to stop feeling sorry for myself. It all seems very hard, though. 2011 will be a real transition year.

In the ER, they pumped beta blockers into my IV and that brought my heart rate down from 120 bpm to 90 bpm but didn’t affect the irregularity. They said I have A-Fib and sent me home with tablet beta blockers and aspirin to control the inevitable blood clots. The problem, though, is that my heart quickly bounced back up to 120 bpm, irregular as all get out and aspirin seemed unlikely to fill the bill. The next step was higher dose beta blockers and ratpoison, euphemistically referred to as Coumadin. I spent a long weekend, exhausted from having my heart mostly racing at 120 bpm despite the meds and wondering how this was going to play out.

There is good news, though. My new best friend, my cardiologist, is willing to try to convert me tomorrow! They take a virtual peek into my heart chambers by threading a transducer down my throat and if I have no killer clots, they will zap me with large doses of electricity and essentially reboot the system. Voila! Instant conversion. This usually works, at least for some months. I am thrilled because the alternative was to wait for a month for the rat poison to thin me to such an extent that I couldn’t possibly have any clots and then they would simply take their chances with the zapper. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

So, what are the implications of all this and how do I feel? If I’m strictly honest, at this moment, the answer to both questions is a definitive “Horrible”. Will I always need to be within hours or better yet minutes of a sophisticated hospital? Will I have to give up plans of walking the Camino in Spain or going on Safari in Africa? May be. I feel—sad, depressed, lonely (which is just silly, because my friends are being wonderful and my family is too), worried, defeated. Mostly this later. I would love to burst into tears, but that’s only satisfying if there is a worthy shoulder to cry on and I am a bit short on that front. Defeated, I suppose because it’s not as if I haven’t been trying for years to create something good and positive in my post divorce life. I did that, of course with NASA, but then the whole thing curdled a bit with a disastrous love affair. Maybe someday I’ll find a way to rewrite that little bit of history and recapture some of the good parts of those years. For now, I just have a sour taste in my mouth over the whole thing. There’s also the irony of having spent the last 6 months dedicating myself to getting healthy. I shed 40 pounds, improved al my various test numbers (which actually weren’t that bad anyway), so my liver function is great, my cholesterol is great my blood sugar is great and I am generally great, except that my heart has gone south. Oh, and I lost my job, so now I really have no choice but to get off my butt and begin to write the last chapters of my life, or at least the next ones. This is nothing that everyone else doesn’t go through as well, of course. I’m one of the lucky ones. I know that. I have children—two of them, in fact. I have, by most counts, led an interesting, even exciting life. I own my own home, and while I am not wealthy by any stretch, I have some resources. In theory, I could die tomorrow and have led a happy and productive life. I have even written a book, something I said I always wanted to do (I ghost wrote it, so my name doesn’t really enter into it, but I know what I did). Alternatively, I could live out my life without working for money and probably be just fine. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones. I just think it will take me a while for that thought to pop back up to the top of the stack. Right now, I would really like to simply burst into tears.

Class at 530 I took a healthy  wholegrain energy bar with me. Class ended at 8, I needed to go to the library. I got to the train station at 1005. I had Choices!
I thought, I’m hungry and I’m 50 minutes from home, nothing reSt to eat, would have to do dishes. I felt like McDonald’s!
So, I bought a happy meal with diet coke. Cheesrburger -300; French fries -230. Total: 500.

I’m done.

Yesterday, breakfast was an English muffin with peanut butter and honey with my latte. I didn’t bring lunch, so some colleagues and I went to cosi and I had a Bombay chicken salad and their tummy bread. When we got back I actually limited myself to one ghirardelli chocolate square.

I don’t think I even snuck m&ms!

Q, my neighbor, tested me to out for a drink. So, we did 2 glasses of red wine, anchors and at least a half cup of that tummy twx nec nut mix later, I called it a day. Crashed before I could eat anymore.

Sunday, see, I’m working backwards to tea h October 1 st. With one finger on my Droid!
Let’s see, what did I even do on,Sunday? Oh, yes, yoga at ten. I ate something before I went.
At 1130, I made quinoa pasta with broccoli and pesto.

I was at home until 4, went to see abby soccer game. Stopped at tks and had a snack -, some sample cornbread and Apple pie with coffee. For dinner I made find and sauteed swiss chat, glass of wine. I may have had some chocolate, but I can’t remember
Saturday – cycles 30 miles with carol. I ate 
Three hours later. Didn’t finish this entry. Had to finish class assignment. Now to bed.

Thursday, September 23^rd Time to get back to reality, whatever that is. At any rate, it’s time to get back to the work-a-day world and my food log. AkMak and smoked mozzarella for breakfast=200. Lentil soup for lunch=200. I could have started this yesterday, truth to tell. I did, actually—directly on the blog, but I didn’t finish the day—I had wine with J. I had potstickers for fun—yummy-360. Wine-300. 1060 so far. Maybe I want sorbet? Hmmm had two extra potstickers instead==60-total=1120

Friday, September 24^th-Wrote the check for my eyes. Another $2500. Easy come, easy go. Had leftover potstickers for breakfast=300. Lentil soup for lunch, 200.For some reason I was compelled to simply pork out on “Mission to marzipan”. It called out to me==350. That’s 850 so far. I had better plan on a light supper. Still, the ice cream tasted soooo good. OK, I must be having some adjustment issues here. I just absolutely had to have some stilton and a couple of crackers. That means I am up to 1100 and that is not counting the wine I just poured. I will try to stay under 1400 today and that will just have to do. Had more wine. Stayed under 1400. Resorted to pickles.

Saturday, September 25^th. Yogurt and maple syrup for breakfast-225. Smoked salmon on French bread with yogurt, capers and dill for lunch=280. Mission to Mars=300. Had dried apricots for dinner and a glass of champagne at the opera=200. Grand total for the day=1005.

Sunday, September 26^th. I seem to be making up for yesterday’s Spartan intake. I had yogurt and maple syrup again for breakfast =225 and then went to the farmer’s market with N and M. Had lots of bites of fruit and so on plus a bit of nan—call it 80. But then, Manuel bought fresh squeezed apple juice from Larson’s at Apple Hill and when we got home they wanted to have some juice for breakfast, so I offered toast which for N means with butter and jam, so I ended up with buttered jam toast for at least 300 c plus that killer apple juice for another 120. 725 and it’s not even lunch time yet. I’ll have beets for dinner. Probably just beets. Forgot about the beets and ate the salmon instead=280. Over 1000 already. Plus I have a glass of wine in my hand. Say 200 for vino? I need t eat the raspberries=100. Went to D’s house. Resisted the ice cream bars. She had some weight watcher’s lo-cal bars, and I watched her eat three of them in a row. That’s the problem with lo-cal stuff. It’s not satisfying, so you have to keep going back. That’s how they get rich. I remain pretty motivated. I really have to drop another 35 pounds just to see how it feels to be even sort of average again. I’m still over the obese line despite looking and feeling significantly thinner. It’s that waist thing. ‘So I have new metrics—35” waist by Thanksgiving. That should be doable, plus I should be able to zip up the green dress by myself. J zipped me into it the day I bought it, so, in theory at least, I could already wear it. I just can’t zip it up myself. But I will be able to —by Thanksgiving—that’s the goal. In seven weeks, I should be able to shed 15 pounds. I can keep reminding myself how nice it is to be able to easily cross my legs and walk down stairs and wear high heels and so on and so on. I think I need to see the doctor about sleep apnea. I am tired all the time and that doesn’t seem to be getting better. It seems worse.

Monday, September 27^th. ‘Started eye drops this morning from my second bionic eye surgery. I suppose I’m looking forward to it, but there’s also a bit of dread involved. I’ll be losing my great reading eye and trading it in for more distance acumen. At least I think that’s what will happen. On the food front, I went to D’s last night. That was great. I had some of her broccoli, sauceless and close to calorieless. Of course, I had at least two nice glasses of vino, so count that as 200c. Today, I am starting out with coffee and will move on to raspberries. On the true confession front, my waist measurement has finally dropped to 36.5” but what happened to the 36” of my pre trip?? I suppose it was inevitable to lose a little bit of ground considering everything I ate on the ship, but other things seem to have maintained. Oh well. It is what it is and now the next climb (or descent?) begins. Come on 35. Let’s hear it for 35. Of course where I really want to be is 28, but that’s for another day. One milestone at a time. S just said I was welcome for Christmas in the snow. That should be good for my soul. A real change. The boys will be gone. I’ll have to take care of everyone’s pressies before I leave, but that’s OK. I’ll see Nina. I can’t believe it will have been a year since Hiro’s death. In fact I can’t believe she is gone at all.

OMG. I just had the nerve to look up the house on the Big Island, and it’s still there even price reduced. Wow. I should be able to pull this off, right?? OMG. Except—not. I missed the part that said it was on contingency. How could I have missed this. I guess I’ll call. ‘Really depressing. ‘Really. ‘Finished the raspberries—100c. had apiece of toast with at lest 1.5 ounces of stilton- call it 300. It’s so hard not to be really depressed. ‘Bugger. Well, irony of ironies, the other house I had had my eye on is back on the market!! It had been under contingency too. T’s a far more sensible option, but I have two thoughts—if one deal can fall through, so can another and maybe I was meant to have the other house anyway. It would certainly make my life easier, not to mention more solvent. It’s in a wetter spot, so much better from the water standpoint—I can put in a catchment system. Plus I can put in a solar system which I was going to do anywhere I went anyway, except I could afford it better. It’s smaller and way easier to care for. But I would still buy the Wright house in a heartbeat if it comes back on the market… There is good news and bad news on the slimming front as well. My above the knee measurements are definitely smaller—my thumbs completely cross over on my left leg and cross over half on the right leg. Still, the waist and boobs are stubbornly the same as they have been for what seems like months! Weeks, anyway. I really do seem to be sticking to the extremities inward scenario through no fault of my own. When will I start to lose the tummy, narrow the waist and give the boobs a bit of shape?? That’s what I want to know. I cooked the beets. I’ll have a healthy dinner. Maybe that will help.

In case you missed me, I’m home again. if you didn’t miss me, I’m home again, anyway.

It’s been a full two weeks, and it feels as if I’ve been gone years or a day. I’ve realized a childhood fantasy by attending the Oberammergau Passion Spiele–who could resist a nearly 400 year old theatrical event? it was even better than I had imagined because there was music! It was almost an opera. It certainly had operatic elements and the orchestra was fabulous and professional, unlike the actors who were natives and amateurs but pretty good for all that. 

In those two weeks I had vowed to myself that I wouldn’t worry about what I ate–and I didn’t! In the beginning I tried to make decent choices, going for fish instead of pork and having soups, fruit and veg fill me up before I got to dessert, but after a time, I just through all caution to the wind and ate and drank as I pleased. OK, I didn’t eat a pound of Belgian chocolates, as I was tempted to do, but other than that I was pretty free with the pastries and mousses. Still, I tried on the brown jacket this morning and the green linen pants–the result of two weeks of debauchery? No change–which is the best I could have hoped for. I did an enormous amount of walking, at least compared to what I have been doing. I danced a couple of nights on the boat–way fun. Put it all together and I maintained for my two weeks. Not bad.

On the other hand, I was in serious pain most of the trip from my hip and my knee (mostly the knee). Aspirin helped some but not enough. In Vienna, the hip just completely stopped working. I was limping really obviously and in danger of needing a cab back to the boat. I couldn’t really walk. I managed some stretches by bending my knees up backwards and grabbing my feet and pulling as hard as I could (yes, that would be one at a time…). It actually worked after a while and I managed to start walking again–right to the Sacher Hotel for a Sacher torte and an Earl Grey tea. OK, I didn’t eat all the extra cream that came with the torte, and I always drink my tea black, but still, I ate every yummy bite of that torte. Ambrosia. The true moral of the story, though, is that I need to complete my self imposed program if I don’t want to end up a cripple for the rest of my life. My knee is not getting better, and I need to drop the next 35 pounds to figure out if that can make a difference. 

So, today’s log: smoked mozzarella and Akmak for breakfast=250. Lentil soup for lunch=200. I was hungry this morning but now I feel fine. Hopefully, getting back into my regimen won’t be too hard. I’ll have more lentil soup for dinner and maybe the orange I still have from the hotel. I need to get out to buy some fruit and fresh veg, but in the mean time, the soup is pretty good (I froze a whole container before I left and it seems to have frozen pretty well). I’ll leave plenty of room for wine. I don’t want to change my wicked new habits too quickly… Beer, however, is a thing of the Bavarian/Hungarian past, along with pastry, cream, platters of cheese and noodles and salami, pepperoni and prosciutto. Sigh.