Talk about a society that probably has everything with the use of a remote control and telephone. It is almost eerily suspicious how much the producers put into knowing what, when and how to place these advertisements. They know more about humans’ mental and emotional timing, than we do!
I know this. I know about how it all works; but dang it, that Copper Brownie Pan is quite tempting.
Obviously I don’t have any desire to own a Treadmill, Oscillating Bike, or any exercise equipment. I see too many at Garage Sales. Go figure.
Next we have the diets. South Beach Diet, Dr. Phil Healthy Living, and Bob Green’s (Oprah’s Dietitian) Guide to Better Health.
Companies will even create boxes of “Fresh Foods with recipes ” so that busy people will be able to eat “healthy” at home.
I am not a chef. I hate, hate, hate onions. Plus I’m just picky about food anyway. Give me a can of Spaghettios and some Kool-Aid; I’ll be a happy girl. Plus it only cost $5.00 at most for the entire meal.
The box meals – Blue Apron for example,
cost $35-$100 depending on the company and contract you have to include.
Send me the brownies from the copper stuff instead.
I already have the coloring books and “My Pillows”
a couple of mini-cooker thing scopper socks, lipstick with flowers in it, a “Snuggie” and the list goes on.
They got me.
I didn’t even know that I needed a Winnie the Pooh Chia plant!
My husband and I are on a mission! We WILL change the channel before the “Pocket Hose” stretches itself out, and the “Flex Seal” saves the boat from sinking.
It’s almost a competition now! (Okay take out the word almost…)
Cindy Crawford and her special -yet found with regular household ingredients, makeup whatever? I will use my ninja skills, grab that remote, and change the channel before your mole stares back at me!
Props to the Psychologists who figured out the algorithm of human shopping. Your parents must be so proud.
Given my current situation, I decided to try to find a Physician who is informed, specialized in, and was challenge worthy of curing what ails me. I have been filling out forms galore! I went through one entire Health Park and one Internal Medicine Hospital.
Let’s see, I have traveled all over my state in the USA. The money for fuel, hotels, dinner, co-pays, prescriptions, job loss and overall mental stress is not what I am upset about. That’s just collateral damage. One’s Health is priceless. So I pushed from one end to the other of specialists, general, and …
Well, you name it, I was there. Husband in hand. Mother as a barracuda. Even a very close friend from work -all to be my “Rock”. I am always thankful to them. ❤️
My research is self-sustaining (when I don’t have brain fog, or a headache, or simply exhausted). It is also self-torture. I have gone through Social Media, Libraries and Journals.
I know a lot about Hypothyroidism. Throw some Auto Immune Disease in there too. Oops, don’t forget the Hashimoto’s Disease, Migraines, Hormonal Imbalances, Anxiety, Depression, Hopelessness, PTSD, Seizures, Food Intolerances, hair loss, Vertigo and Concussions due to falling. have had all of these symptoms/experiences in the past four years. This past year January 1, 2016 through today my “experiences” have become a million
times worse than when all of this started.
Kinda Cool Part<<<<<
ed that blood tests are not really necessary in my case, because they don’t test the cells which make up the body. The cells which make us human don’t get tested. Blood does. Thus getting a normal lab result is counter-intuitive to discovering the cause of my woes.
, I was declined by both attempts of becoming a patient of an Internal Medicine Hospital as well as the ENTIRE Health Park. Hmmmm. As Shakespeare would say, “Much Ado About Nothing”.
paign called “The Broken Brain” by Dr. Hyman. I watched the trailer, then I signed up for the free online Docu-series. There are eight episodes and over fifty doctors who attest to the information presented:
“With 1.1 BILLION lives compromised by brain issues EVERY day, I know this documentary series will provide vital new information, expert connections and most of all, hope.”
e wellness center in MA. They don’t accept insurance. They charge approximately $10,000.00 for their two days of service.
The similar wellness clinic in my state (as there are many centers across the country) also does not take insurance either.
o an article I read this evening, those involved were exasperated and out of money. You should read it. Alas, they have hope!
I like how the author states “When one doctor or specialist had tried everything in his or her repertoire, we’d move on to someone else.After enough traditional doctors couldn’t dial her health in, we eventually moved on to alternative doctors and treatments – chiropractic, acupuncture, herbal supplements, meditation, and on and on…”That’s (This is) the reality (body image, weight gain) for some women. With multiple issues and body systems affecting each other and playing off each other, it can be pretty challenging to get everything into balance.blockquote>We found that this condition involved so much more than just physiology. So many elements played into this diagnosis – it was about stress, food, lifestyle, belief systems, relationships and more.We have spent the last 20 years, and almost $300,000, diving deep into this dis-ease. <<<<<<<<<
ut my future, as well as my husband and family’s future. Watch the attached video shared from YouTube. It’s thought provoking. I may not have a cure or a new place to dig in and research, but I have hope (kinda, sorta, maybe; depends on the day).
Yep, that’s right. My email address is getting way too many messages. Anyone else in this boat?
I’m not putting this out there for bragging about or fishing for compliments. I’m putting this out there because I am not going to read them all. Any coupons, weekly ads, going out of sale ads, or relisting of items that I was outbid on previously are going to my trash and junk.
—-UPDATE—- 112 Emails as of 1:43 pm —-
I prefer emails from family or friends. There, I said it. The biggest offenders in my inbox are WalMart and GFS. Hint*. There’s only two of us and we are not interested in 5 gallons of potato salad, nor products for infants. I know, I know, I am not the only person they send ads and emails too. But they can take me off of their lists, for like, ever-ish. (That’s a word… ever-ish. I add ish to a lot of words now. Given that American English is a living language I can make up all kinds of words -if I wanted to; alas I shall stick with ish words for the time being.)
Which brings me to my main objective in this rant… if brick and mortar stores and webstores are insisting on emailing me, I would at the very least want the information to relate to either me or my husband. I know that there are algorithms that exist for this very purpose. They’re imbedded in those fun, little, member cards.
Again, don’t get me wrong… if you are a real, human, family member or friend, I promise not to put your communications in Junk. It’s bad enough that I refuse to answer my phones anymore because of the crazy spamming going on.
Honestly I am not sure about which is worse…🤔. The phone ringing incessantly or my inbox stretching itself out so much.
It’s obvious to consumer’s that sellers are desperately trying to communicate with us all. Did they all invest in the Nigerian Prince with a great opportunity? (Haha).
I know that I did not register for a trip to Bermuda, Florida, London or Paris.
I also know that I do not have a Windows based computer which needs an unsolicited computer tech.
I am aware that my credit card is doing just fine. So you must be making the error on your end.
I know that my vehicle is not under warranty and that I can purchase a new warranty or vehicle which comes with a brand new warranty.
I am not a fax machine.
The Nigerian Prince is NOT Raj from The Big Bang Theory; and neither exist in reality. (Bummer. I like the character traits of Rajesh Kuthrapoli)
Oh the list is endless at this point… Sadly so is my patience. So I shall leave you with these parting words of wisdom.
About ten years ago (+\- five years) and yet another fifteen years prior to that. This will make sense for you, (the readership in a few moments… hang in there.. I promise. Trust me.
I traveled to Arizona for a visit with my grandparents, sister and mother. It was time to find a full service, independent living, facility for my grandparents.
The three of us toured a few facilities each day until we found our ideal space for the distinguished Patriarch and Matriarch of my mothers’ side of the family. It took a lot of convincing to get them to see it, much less than the actual move from their condo to a facility we chose.
It was nice. They allowed my grandparents’ cats, furniture and even had it’s own kitchen. The forms were signed. Their condo was up for sale and I had to get back to Michigan.
Within a couple of months I got a call from my sister. She wanted to get a Tigger tattoo and wanted my opinion. I have a tattoo on my hip bone of Opus the Penguin. I got it when I was seventeen, so in my sister’s mind I must remember the experience…. eh… I didn’t. Seventeen and tattoos were common in my generation; remembering the details, not so much.
I did my best to explain it to her, but jeez that was fifteen years ago.
After many months of looking she decided to bring the multitudes of Tigger to a top three. In this process she had found a few other ideas that would be good on me and my mother.
She wanted all of us to get (at least one) matching tattoos. I laughed and questioned her rationale.
“It would be a bonding experience.”
Within the week I was getting pictures from my sister with a very noticeable Tigger tattoo on her calf. She even showed it to our grandmother for review. Apparently our grandmother approved and asked questions about it -the process, design, and pain. She and my sister often did Tigger themed things, like this cake, for instance.
The holidays had me back in AZ later that year. I laughed every time my sister brought up the “group tattoo idea”. However, by then, my mom had agreed to do it. My sister must have been quite convincing. They were going on and on about yin yang symbols, turtles, paw prints, etc. I was still holding firm on my “No.”
I had underestimated my sister because the day after Christmas she admitted something…
She had a plan.
We all had to agree on the design and body location.
We had to find a clean and reputable establishment that was handicapped accessible.
We had to go into it with a “No Regrets” mentality.
I was still not in love with the idea or plan. Besides, why did it have to be handicap accessible? So I asked.
Wait for it….
My sister continued, “…Grandma wants to go too. So we will just swing by her new nursing home, check her out for the day, let her go first with her tatt, get ours, and then grab something to eat, sign her back in to the nursing home without drawing attention to ourselves and Ta Dah. No biggie!”
“We are NOT kidnapping Grandma, tattooing her in a handicap accessible (air quotes) tattoo parlor, having a late lunch and then sneaking her back in to her nursing home without anyone noticing ‘something different’ about Grandma.”
“Awwww c’mon. She really wants whatever we’re having.”
“Are you crazy?! No! Soooo beyond no! We could get in serious trouble for that. Oh My Lord. (*sigh) Did you tell mom?”
“She liked it.”
Of course she did.
This dialogue continued back and forth for quite some time -months.
My sister stayed on this kick for awhile and is over it now (I think). Our grandmother passed away within a few years -tattoo free. My mother is still tattoo free.
Part of me wonders, did my grandmother have a seventeen year old self who always wanted a tattoo, like me? What would she have chosen at seventeen?
I don’t doubt that she entertained the idea then, or at my sister’s plan sixty years later. I can only fathom what 1945 art was acceptable for her standards. She was a nurse back then. She had seen it all, and knew the human body quite well. She would know where we could keep it hidden and respectable.
This past Autumn, my sister, mother and I were together again and I brought up the group tattoo idea. We thought about it, tossed around some ideas and then got back to our independently busy lives; somehow still remaining connected.
Maybe the next time we get the chance I can get us all to agree on a tree. More specifically The Tree of Life. It would be a Family Tree of Life!
“The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
The skies are blue with white clouds, the wind is in the tops of the trees, and the scent of freshly mowed grass floats through the air.
I can be found outside to absorb Vitamin D more often. I often go for drives in my 1999 Mazda Miata (top down, radio up.) singing my heart out. I can enjoy the scenery when I take my dogs on walks. I could go for bike rides with my husband. I could follow through with plans or have a summer job for extra money. But I’m not doing any of these things. I can hope that all of this will play out next summer or the summer after that. I will be ok, just not today.
I am spending this summer filling out forms. Forms? Yes, forms. Being in my condition, I have a lot to “prove” to people, I guess. I have forms for Student Loans, Social Security, Insurance Companies, Appointments to keep from each groups’ Independent Medical Reviews. My years worth of forms is not helping to remove my carbon footprint.
So if you get the chance to capture some Vitamin D, walk your dog, drive your convertible and go for bike/ horse rides, do it. Do it for everyone who can’t, right now. Enjoy the outside and stay “form-free”. Don’t pick up a writing utensil or hide behind a screen of any sort. Mind your manners. Eat full-fat ice cream … on a WAFFLE CONE!
I think that I have a friend or two who genuinely care about me and my illnesses. I believe that I have some acquaintances who would be certain to talk to me if we were in the same place, coincidently.
Thanks to Pastor Trisha Peach, blog peacht, via Hypothyroid Mom, I caught a few of her comments to be very true for me, currently.
Like this… “It makes planning nearly impossible. Many humans take for granted that they will wake up feeling “normal”, go to work, go see friends, go to their child’s sports game – same as always. 🌅👩🏻🏫👩🏼⚕️👨🏼💻👩🏻🏫👩🎤👮🏻👯♂️
For someone battling a chronic illness, you just don’t know. Instead of “planning”, it’s more like “hoping”. You “hope” you wake up feeling ok, you “hope” you can make it through work, you “hope” you can make it through your child’s play…..and each event takes its toll on your energy and health.
You cannot predict the day before how you will feel. So the world makes plans and prepares for events and you…..”hope” to be a part of them.”
She goes on to write, “It is not because you no longer care or because the event is not important to you or the person is not important to you. You are missing out because your body has given out.
In fact, your body may be 4 or 5 events PAST too many by the time you just give out. It’s like driving a car that is running out of gas….you lasted on fumes, but finally despite all your efforts, the fumes have run out. The gas pedal is all the way to the floor, but she’s not going any further.”
My doctor had requested some blood work from me…, which, upon return, explained a plethora of my health problems. She was speaking another language (Greek? Latin? Dr. Speak?), regardless I needed Google. And here I am. 🌎.
Meghan O’Rourke has an essay called “I had Autoimmune Disease and then it had me.” It was printed in The New Yorker Magazine, Aug. 26, 2013. It came up in a Google Search for Hypothyroidism. She was speaking my language.
So, for my friends, I hope to keep our plans but I need to be full; not on fumes.
I experienced Roux-en-Y Gastric Bypass through removal of a portion of the stomach (sleeve gastrectomy or biliopancreatic diversion with duodenal switch) or by resecting and re-routing the small intestine to a small stomach pouch.
I needed to be smaller than I was. I had a great job, my own apartment, a strong family, a very nice Infinity QX4. Life was grand, until I opened my mouth to eat. You see, in 2000, I was diagnosed as being morbidly obese. I think that my BMI was in the 40’s.
My last year of undergrad was interesting. I had my first real relationship, student teaching and no cash. So I ate the cheap food from gas stations, dollar stores, and CostCo. Bulk was definitely the way to go. By the year 2000, I was going to end up with diabetes and heart disease.
The gossip magazine’s were all doting on Carney Wilson of Wilson Philips. She had an “Easy surgery and the fat just melted off of her”. No pills, drinks, fad diets or exercise programs ever again. Hey I can handle that!
I got the surgery in October of 2001 -insurance companies are just so easygoing (*Sarcasm). I laid on my dad’s couch for two weeks and followed the new diets prescribed by my surgeon. (Clear liquid, regular liquids, soft solids, and then in 6 months normal food, just in very small amounts. My stomach was now the size of an egg. The pounds were indeed melting off. I ended up losing 150 lbs in less than a year.
The fact that I loved smoothies and coffee; the ideal weight loss was fairly easy to maintain. I would drink Protein shakes from the local GNC, drank the Jamba Juice’s “Mocha Moo’s” with extra protein powder, and Starbucks Caramel Macchiato. I never bothered with cooking. My idea of cooking was making a pb&j (if I really had to). I took my dog for walks, farther and farther as weeks went by.
I started going to “clubs” within the very end of my first year. It didn’t matter which génère the music was. I just wanted to dance and feel the rhythm of it all. I felt alive.
After the six months, I had a calzone (black olive, mushrooms, ham, and extra cheese). Mmmm. It was really good. I needed a whole week to finish one… but I didn’t care. Dancing on the weekends would burn off the calzone calories.
I moved out of my home state and started a new life with my (then) boyfriend, (now) husband, in a new state 2003. Alas, as I have mentioned in other posts, my new “home” was missing out on Jamba Juice chain stores and Starbucks (Coffee Shops). I went through withdrawals.
I was definitely depressed (whenever I had a craving for a Mocha Moo) . And since I’m an emotional eater, I ate. I started with the homemade food at the school, where I taught. That led to eating solid food everywhere! I even got cooking lessons with, like, a real chef person!
It was getting harder and harder to maintain the ideal weight/ BMI. This means that I was gaining the weight back. I honestly believed that the operation was to essentially banish the ability to gain weight. Yet, here I sit, knowing it is possible. Luckily I have plateaued at a number I can live with.
I often wonder if the Bariatric Surgery has/ had something to do with the Hypothyroidism, Hashimoto’s, Adrenal Fatigue, etc. that I am going through now.