104.5 and DER!

A recent study reports that junk food affects the brain like heroine and is addictive.  Well, no sh!t, huh?  I've been saying that for years. 

Here's the article:
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/health-news/junk-food-could-be-addictive-like-heroin-1929982.html

I blogged on this just a couple weeks ago: http://crapstain.blogspot.com/2010/03/hello-my-name-is-sandi-and-im-addict.html

I've been off the smack (chocolate) for 19 days.  Creamy chocolate thoughts drift into my mind from time to time, but I don't want to ruin what I've done in the past couple weeks.  And I know--I absolutely know--if I take even one bite of chocolate, I'll be back on the smack.  I try to fool myself and say that if I psych myself up for it, I can just eat ONE PIECE of a Vosges bar and walk away.  But that's a lie.  It's like a heroine junkie saying she can ride the horse just one more time, then suddenly she's galloping full-throttle through fields of blissful decay.

I wonder why some people can have smack (in whatever form) and leave it without addiction?  My mom can do it.  Sugar doesn't suck her in.  Ah, but the cigarettes, that's another story; she's tried and can't get off them.  Does everyone have that ONE thing that can overpower and consume them?

105 (Again)

I'm mildly disappointed that I'm not down at least half a pound today, but eh, whattaya gonna do?  On! On!

I think one of the problems is my lack of sleep.  Lack of sleep definitely gets in the way of weight loss.  (See the book I mentioned last post for more on that).

And on another note....

I bought New Moon on Blu-ray the day it was released.  Zane put it in for Lisa and me to watch while she was visiting from L.A. (she hadn't seen it) and I fell asleep just after Bella gives Edward that "oooooh I could eat you right now!" up-and-down look when he approaches her in the school parking lot.  (OMG I am 14 years old).  I've put it on twice since then and have fallen asleep within 30 minutes each time.  I want to watch it sooooo badly!  I'm just too exhausted to watch anything.

105

Don't worry, this isn't becoming a weight-loss journal.  It's just nice to post it publically; it keeps me accountable.  Curious about how I've gone from 113 to 105 in 16 days?  Check out this book:

http://www.speedweightlossbook.com/

If you sign up for the email list, you get some freebies.  Love it!

106.5

and none of my pants fit me.  I knew I should've saved those 3's.  Poopsicles!

108

Down another pound, despite indulging over the weekend while my wonderful and dear friend, Lisa stayed for a long weekend.  Why is it that when I want to celebrate, I want to do so with food?  Oh, the customs of our country.  Blah blah blah.

Anyway, here's Lisa holding a dead tarantula wasp. 

Our friends Misha and Su Won went with, also:

Lisa at Bell Rock, near Sedona (on Lisa's birthday):

Such a fun weekend.  I love you, Lisi-friend!  Please come back very soon!  (And yes, i will definitely be taking you up on a trip to LA to stay with you for a girls-only weekend!)

Time for an Uprising! Let's Start the Weekend Right!

Looking Forward

I love having things to look forward to.  This weekend, my friend Lisa is flying in from LA to spend a long weekend.  Todd and I just love love love her and can't wait to hang out!  Rich, another old AF buddy, is driving in from Cali for spring training and we'll be seeing him and our buddy Misha, too.  Good friends, good times...I'm so looking forward to it! 

And since I've been eating SO FREAKING WELL for a week, I plan to indulge a little bit this weekend!  Gotta let loose once in a while, right?!?! 

RIGHT!

I'm also looking forward to doing a shoot I booked today.  It's not 'til April, but it's going to be really fun and cool.  I really like this client a lot; it's one of those people you meet and think "oh yeah, we could definitely be friends."  I love it when that happens. 

Life is feeling pretty sweet right now.  I am going to

SAVOUR IT!

A Gift to Me

I was 12 when my dad committed suicide and the event created a terrible mess in my mind.  At that age, it's very difficult to process that sort of thing and so, some people shut down and block out.  That's what I did; i blocked out so many memories from that time, that i could hardly remember anything at all about my dad.  The things that stood out the most were the negative things, but i knew there were good things, too.  I just wanted...NEEDED...to remember them. 

A year or so ago i emailed my uncle and asked him to tell me about my dad (not my dad's brother, my mom's sister's husband).  He said it was too difficult a thing to discuss in email and he would tell me all about my dad next time i saw him.  Well, he died a couple months ago without our being able to get together (2 states away) and i felt like i had no one left to ask about my dad (can't really ask my mom any more; she won't answer me).

Last night on the phone, the most amazing thing happened.  I was talking to my first real love (Joe) and he told me things he'd never told me before, about time he had spent with my dad while i wasn't home.  It was amazing...i sat listening, completely transfixed.  He stirred memories in me of my dad that I'm so grateful to have back.  And he pointed out things about my dad that i hadn't really thought about, that made me remember and really acknowledge his kind, caring side.  He was a good man; a good man who did some bad things when he was younger and because he was ill.  But in the end, my dad had a heart.  We are so alike, my dad and me, in so many ways.  Except that I found a way to live with my demons and he did not.

Dad, I wish I knew you better; I'm sorry you're gone.

Joe, thank you for giving him back to me; i will be forever grateful.

Hello, My Name is Sandi and I'm an Addict....

Dear Sugar-in-the-Form-of-Chocolate,

I don't know why, but my brain chemistry wants you.  Badly.  I consume you until I actually feel high, maybe even slightly manic.  I am giddy in your creamy embrace.  The problem is that I can't stop.  There is no such thing as moderation.  One Cadbury Egg leads to another.  All sensibility is out the window.  It's been four days without you.  The cravings have been unbearable at times, and I've nearly collapsed from the grief of missing you.  I told my husband yesterday that I feel like a chocolate whore...forget the crack.  He laughed and asked if that was why I married him...because I knew he would give me sugar.  I thought about it.  It's true that one of our first dates was to the Hagen Daas store.  Hmmm.

In the four days since I quit the smack, I've lost four pounds!  I'm at 109.5.  I'm not sure how much longer I can resist the temptation.  Just looking at you or thinking of you creates a stir in me.  Even when my mind manages to focus on something else, my body reminds me how badly I want you.

I love you; please leave me alone,

s

Valley Fever?

Night sweats
Chills, like ice in my veins
Cough
Weird feeling in my lungs
Exhausted--EXHAUSTED
Weird fumes when I breathe out
SO FREAKING EXHAUSTED
Weird feeling all over
Doesn't feel like the flu (no fever)

No, I'm not going to the doctor.  I've got ER bills sitting on my desk and all kinds of other bills looming over me.  I will starve it out, whatever it is.

I'm down 2.5 lbs so far.  Get thee hence, vile thing invading my body!

When I Used to Love This Mortal Coil

Oh wait, I still do.

To the ER We Go, Part Two, Different Child and Dear Money Gods/Stress Gods

Dear Money Gods,

Seriously?  Really? 

!#$%&*,

Me.


So I just looked down at my hand and there's a random bite mark on it.  I swear I bit my own hand and don't even remember it.  And that's the weird news of the day.  Stress.  It makes me do weird things.

Anyway, so yesterday morning I had a family portrait session (urban) in the morning.  It went great, had fun, cute pics.  I came home around noon, grabbed a quick nap, did some post-processing, then got ready for my afternoon session (urban senior portraits).  On the way to the senior session, around 3:30, I get a call from my son Zane (14) saying half his tooth is broken off and his lip is cut.  I tell my client that I have an emergency, apologize (they were very gracious) and turned around to get Zane from his friend's house.

At first glance, all I could see was blood and swelling.  The sight of the tooth kinda shocked me; it really was half gone.  My brain couldn't wrap itself around that concept.  I took Zane home and took a closer look. 

That's when I started to freak out.  It was BAD.  I could tell the cut in the lip had gone all the way through from the inside of his mouth.  My first concern was that the missing half-tooth was embedded in the lip (which was the size of Manhattan), since it couldn't be found at his friend's house.  My second concern was that the tooth wasn't going to survive the trauma.

I called my bff, Amy (who's a dental hygienist) and had her come see.  She said the fracture was clean and about a millimeter below the pulp (good thing), but that he was definitely going to need a crown at some point (bad thing).  Amy called her bro-in-law who's a dentist and described the incident and how the tooth looked.  I took a photo of it with my macro lens and emailed it to him.  Then I called the father of the boy who slammed my son's face onto the back of a wooden chair hard enough to cause that much damage.  (I'm not saying that to be blaming; it's just the fact of the matter).

I like this family very much.  They were very apologetic and the dad's dad happens to be a dentist and later it was arranged for us to meet him at his office in Mesa.  He put dental cement on the end of the tooth.  Zane visibly relaxed once it was in place; the air hitting the tooth had been killing him with pain.  Doc (who seems really wonderful) x-rayed the tooth and the lip to make sure the missing piece wasn't embedded in the lip; it wasn't.  We will go back this week (if the lip swelling ever goes down...it's HUGE and unrecognizable) for a temporary build on the tooth. If the remaining tooth lives, we can wait 'til Zane's 18 for a crown. If the tooth dies, we do a root canal and get a crown now.  Either way, I'm stressed out.  Zane's stressed out.  He can hardly eat or drink from the pain. 

I'm so far behind on work that I don't even know where to start.  I have an engagement album to design and order (to be used as a wedding guest book); engagement annoucements to design and order; a session to edit and get online; another session to get online; a session to reschedule; more sessions coming up next week, at least 2 and maybe more doctor's appointments this week.  Gah!

Dear Stress Gods,

!#$%&* to you, too.

Sincerely,

Me.

Fooling the Money Gods and More Adventures in Type 1 !#$%* Diabetes

Don't you hate it when you need a specific amount of money (let's say, to pay someone back) and you want it quickly (so it's not hanging over you) and you (and your hub) work your hoinkus off to get the money, but then along comes an unexpected bill (or several!) to take all the extra money right back outta your hands?  Or does that just happen to me?  Maybe the money gods like to see me frustrated.  Maybe this amuses them.  Maybe they are fat, hairy monkeys sitting in a palm tree dropping coconuts on my head and doing that weird monkey-scream laugh.  Damn monkey-assed money gods.

So, yes, one of those bills is my daughter's hospital bill.  I never did blog about that, huh?  Okay, so here's how it went down:

Thursday Chee (this is what I call her.  Well, it's one of the many names I call her) came home from school looking pale and pasty and just nasty.  I thought she was coming down with something.  I asked her how her sugar was.  "Fine" as always, she told me.  Next morning she says, "I think I need to go to the hospital."  I look at her...still pale, still pasty, lethargic. 

I ask her if she's been giving herself enough insulin.  Yes, she says.  She goes back to bed.  I trust her that her numbers are okay (why do I do that?). 

Later, a customer comes over for a photography consultation.   Toward the end of it, Allie comes out and sticks a ketostick in my face.  That's a urine stick that tells if and how much ketone she's spilling.  She was throwing large ketones.  NOT GOOD.  Emergency situation.  I tell her to go shoot some insulin and I finish up with my client. 

I go to Chee's room and ask what her sugar is.  She tells me 567 (or somewhere around there).  Large ketones plus huge number while taking insulin probably means insulin has gone bad AND IT'S OUR LAST VIAL.  I want to panic and throw up, but that's just not an option when your child is about to drop dead at your feet, so I call my bff, Amy, and ask if I can grab a vial of insulin from her (her son has type 1 diabetes, too).  She gives me her garage code and I grab insulin and race back home.  Allie injects and I call our endo.  Endo says to get to the E.R. 

With fresh insulin, I knew I could drive her.  An ambulance would've been faster, but I felt sure the insulin was good and she'd perk up in 15 minutes or so.

About half-way to the hospital, Chee started looking better.  Color came back to her face; life was returning.

Long story short:  she was admitted on Friday and released on Sunday.  She was hovering at the beginning stage of DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis, a life-threatening state for type 1's), meaning she had no insulin in her body.  Her insulin had indeed gone bad.   The endocrinology team met with her and adjusted her numbers and she talked her endo into ordering a new pump for her.  She will have an Omnipod in a couple weeks.  I hope and pray this will help her keep her numbers good.  I have my doubts, unfortunately. 

Type 1 diabetes, I continue to despise you.

Sincerely,

me.