Being only 15 hours into the LID (yes, I'm counting when I'm sleep) and not cheating even once, I can finally begin to see the bones on my hands. The swelling has gone down that much. My fingers feel tiny again, like they should. What I'm not liking is the intolerance to cold. I work in an air conditioned office and it's in the 90s outside. Right now, if I had a jacket, I'd wrap myself in it.
I remembered where I was on Monday, at my meeting where I didn't exercise self control and had that slice of bread. So the dish I made, a couple of thoughts. One, asparagus heads are great. Tails are not. Two, there is such a thing as too much rosemary. I was picking out the rosemary as I ate, I had put so much in. Three, I was bored. It lacked protein. It lacked bread. It lacked salt. The rosemary and thyme I put in was great. But I wanted more. It was filling, but I still wanted more...something. So I paused with that and ate celery with almond and flax seed butter. And that gave me the little something I was looking for. But as soon as I was done, I was still wanting more. The LID says I can have fish. My question is when? I found out that my microwaving fish was a definite no-no in my office. Yes, I had heard of that but when fish is your only protein, you have to eat. Not so, says my co-workers. And since it's one Lymie against many co-workers, I will stop with the fish. I could eat it at dinner, but I'm starving for it now. Not fish, per se, just a protein. Like a burger...
Showing posts with label bloating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bloating. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Lyme Inflammation Diet - Day 1. Again.
Sorry there's no day 2. That was blown out of the water due to my inability to cope with stress in a healthful way. My pity party and I ate Ben and Jerry's Late Night Snack and commiserated about our woes.
So, today is Lyme Inflammation Diet Day 1. For realsies this time.
Had my farm fresh eggs for breakfast, pomegranate juice with my liquid multivitamin and I'm now munching on my lunch of asparagus, mushrooms and onions in olive oil and LID approved spices. The lunch I was supposed to eat on Monday. That didn't happen. I can't remember why. Yesterday I had a young professionals networking lunch at Panera Bread. I had my usual at Panera, creamy tomato soup and Mediterranean veggie sandwich with an apple I didn't eat and frozen lemonade that I couldn't finish. I could have had salad. But who eats salad? Oh yeah, I'm supposed to. Then with my frustrations with home, I went to the grocery store, under the truthful pretense of getting my daughter's prescription, and found myself in the freezer section grazing over which Ben and Jerry's I was going to eat. I heard this faint voice of reasoning but then it was blocked out when I saw Late Night Snack.
The disease is a struggle but the diet is just, ugh. I know, it's the candida thriving inside and dictating this. But you would think I would have some drive to get rid of this thing. And I do. Until I get a craving for a burger or have a frustrating day and crave ice cream. But I drank 16 oz of my homemade kefir last night and another 16 oz this morning. I feel great with that.
Add to this, I haven't exercised this week. At all. It's shocking to me. But I read this Yahoo article about sleep is better for losing weight. And in the Lyme Recipe cookbook the authors mention that too. So the past 3 mornings, I woke up at 6:30-7:00 instead of my usual 5:30. This morning I was tired, like I could have used another hour. But when I wake up, I feel energized. Even more surprising is the pain I had last week has been a dull roar this week. Even with the horrible eating. I've had the bloating, the skin crawling (even more now, hmm), muscle weakness, and heat intolerance to where it's breaking out my skin. But no joint pain. Oh! Ear pain has been on the upswing. I was in a meeting yesterday when that attacked and it was all I could do to stay upright and pay attention. What does it all mean? I've been waiting for my health insurance provider to give me my antibiotics, they're holding it hostage right now.
Right now, I really, really want a cup of tea. And a burger. I guess I'll swig another drink of water.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Lyme Inflammation Diet - Day 1
People have vices. Some drink. Some hit. Some pocket dial or text while flying down the highway. My vice? Bread and sugar. And both of my vices are forbidden on the Lyme Inflammation Diet (LID).
I love Dr. S and his desire to make his patients well. But his LID is my downfall. Give me kefir and antibiotics and I could survive this. Take away bread and sugar and I fail. Consistently. And it drives me nuts.
I went to Trader Joe's yesterday to gear up to eat this diet. And I bought raw almonds, bok choy (?!), asparagus, pomegranate juice and blueberry juice. I was actually excited about eating because it would mean getting rid of the bloat. Which now has semi left my stomach area to settle unsightly around my ankles and lower half of my legs. I even prepared my breakfast and lunch and snacks, so hopeful. I had eggs for breakfast, pomegranate juice with my multi-vitamin, sauteed asparagus with mushrooms and onions, celery with almond and flaxseed butter. All neatly packed in my lunch bag.
I had a meeting at work and they ordered in lunch and invited me to order too. I should have said no, but even the salad I ordered was LID-approved for phase 1. It had arugula, artichokes and onions with balsamic vinegar. But they had bread at the table that everyone raved about. It was like white pizza. I opened one closest to me, like an idiot, and it's bready, cheesy goodness smelled divine. And without thinking, I bit into it. It tasted so warm and delicious...
Damn.
I lasted 12 hours. Twelve hours!
And my ankles grew after I ate my bread.
I hate this disease, but I hate my lack of willpower even more. How is it I can push myself to go to work, exercise, heck, even go to church when I'm feeling low and in pain, but when it comes to bread, I sink? It's an addiction, I'm telling you. It has no rhyme or reason. I complain about the bloat, I complain about the pain, there's a solution and my body sabotages it at every turn. It's sickening! Even as I type, I have a craving for a burger that's unreal and burgers aren't allowed until the end of phase 4. Another month and a half from now. And ice cream. Oh, it's siren song always lulls me to my inflamed demise and today, it lures loudly and seductively. I can hold out bread and sugar free, for 3 days. It's been my maximum of dedicated willpower. By day 4, I can't hold out. I've tried taking it one day at a time. And in my mind, if it's one day and this were to be my last day, I want to be happy and eat my bread and ice cream. If I try to make it past day 4, my attitude is the poster child of PMS, without the PMS. I'm moody and grouchy and ready to kill someone for a piece of bread or sugar. My husband recognizes my rabid state and gives me what I want, but it isn't what I need. I would pay someone (almost) to shadow me and smack my hand Catholic nun-style to stop the offending food entering my mouth.
The day isn't over. Diet pundits and cheerleaders say a slip up doesn't ruin the whole day. They aren't there when I'm driving past a Cold Stone Creamery or Elevation Burger and I happen to find myself in front of the counter ordering. I have eliminated fast food. I've eliminated fried food. I've eliminated candy bars and fire balls. I heard that super strong probiotics fixes the desire to eat bread and sugar. And the Body Ecology people emailed me and said to order this super probiotic to help. I'm ordering it today. I can't do this to myself. And the ankle bloat is as uncute as the belly bloat.
I love Dr. S and his desire to make his patients well. But his LID is my downfall. Give me kefir and antibiotics and I could survive this. Take away bread and sugar and I fail. Consistently. And it drives me nuts.
I went to Trader Joe's yesterday to gear up to eat this diet. And I bought raw almonds, bok choy (?!), asparagus, pomegranate juice and blueberry juice. I was actually excited about eating because it would mean getting rid of the bloat. Which now has semi left my stomach area to settle unsightly around my ankles and lower half of my legs. I even prepared my breakfast and lunch and snacks, so hopeful. I had eggs for breakfast, pomegranate juice with my multi-vitamin, sauteed asparagus with mushrooms and onions, celery with almond and flaxseed butter. All neatly packed in my lunch bag.
I had a meeting at work and they ordered in lunch and invited me to order too. I should have said no, but even the salad I ordered was LID-approved for phase 1. It had arugula, artichokes and onions with balsamic vinegar. But they had bread at the table that everyone raved about. It was like white pizza. I opened one closest to me, like an idiot, and it's bready, cheesy goodness smelled divine. And without thinking, I bit into it. It tasted so warm and delicious...
Damn.
I lasted 12 hours. Twelve hours!
And my ankles grew after I ate my bread.
I hate this disease, but I hate my lack of willpower even more. How is it I can push myself to go to work, exercise, heck, even go to church when I'm feeling low and in pain, but when it comes to bread, I sink? It's an addiction, I'm telling you. It has no rhyme or reason. I complain about the bloat, I complain about the pain, there's a solution and my body sabotages it at every turn. It's sickening! Even as I type, I have a craving for a burger that's unreal and burgers aren't allowed until the end of phase 4. Another month and a half from now. And ice cream. Oh, it's siren song always lulls me to my inflamed demise and today, it lures loudly and seductively. I can hold out bread and sugar free, for 3 days. It's been my maximum of dedicated willpower. By day 4, I can't hold out. I've tried taking it one day at a time. And in my mind, if it's one day and this were to be my last day, I want to be happy and eat my bread and ice cream. If I try to make it past day 4, my attitude is the poster child of PMS, without the PMS. I'm moody and grouchy and ready to kill someone for a piece of bread or sugar. My husband recognizes my rabid state and gives me what I want, but it isn't what I need. I would pay someone (almost) to shadow me and smack my hand Catholic nun-style to stop the offending food entering my mouth.
The day isn't over. Diet pundits and cheerleaders say a slip up doesn't ruin the whole day. They aren't there when I'm driving past a Cold Stone Creamery or Elevation Burger and I happen to find myself in front of the counter ordering. I have eliminated fast food. I've eliminated fried food. I've eliminated candy bars and fire balls. I heard that super strong probiotics fixes the desire to eat bread and sugar. And the Body Ecology people emailed me and said to order this super probiotic to help. I'm ordering it today. I can't do this to myself. And the ankle bloat is as uncute as the belly bloat.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Pregnant
Just in case you thought I was exaggerating about this whole pregnancy/bloating thing, I just went to help at a social function at work and someone asked me when I'm due.
ARGH!
What is it about people these days who think that they can ask that question?! I mean really?! Maybe their momma's neglected People Interaction 101, but good grief! My mom always said to never ask a woman if she's pregnant. Never! Because, like in my constant experience, if they're not pregnant, then you look like a fool.
But what about the insulted female? Most likely she feels that if it's socially acceptable for you to be an asshole, then it's perfectly acceptable to give you a kick in the ass. Since she's not pregnant anyway.
I'm sick. I'm freaking sick with a disease that I can't control and don't want. I'm on a medicine that bloats you further. I mean, Jesus! I didn't even eat lunch today! I choked down breakfast so I could have a pill that makes me nauseated and bloated so I could skip lunch because food was unbearable to have one cup of ice cream and toppings because it was socially acceptable so I could be insulted about a bloating problem that started with a freaking pill!!!! God! Being in pain sucks but being insulted because basically people think you look fat is just the suckiest thing I can think of. The culture now makes it so that if you want to insult someone, ask them if they're pregnant because then it makes the fool asker seem kind. When they're not. They're just a nosy, self righteous asshole. I hate this disease because I work too damn hard working out, eating right, to have people ask me questions like that. So, if I looked really fat and not pregnant, would I be more accepted?
Asshole. And you know what? These questions come from females! No man has stepped up to me and asked me that question. But a woman? Especially one who's smaller than me, will ask. Does it make you feel better that you're thinner than me??? ARGH!!!
ARGH!
What is it about people these days who think that they can ask that question?! I mean really?! Maybe their momma's neglected People Interaction 101, but good grief! My mom always said to never ask a woman if she's pregnant. Never! Because, like in my constant experience, if they're not pregnant, then you look like a fool.
But what about the insulted female? Most likely she feels that if it's socially acceptable for you to be an asshole, then it's perfectly acceptable to give you a kick in the ass. Since she's not pregnant anyway.
I'm sick. I'm freaking sick with a disease that I can't control and don't want. I'm on a medicine that bloats you further. I mean, Jesus! I didn't even eat lunch today! I choked down breakfast so I could have a pill that makes me nauseated and bloated so I could skip lunch because food was unbearable to have one cup of ice cream and toppings because it was socially acceptable so I could be insulted about a bloating problem that started with a freaking pill!!!! God! Being in pain sucks but being insulted because basically people think you look fat is just the suckiest thing I can think of. The culture now makes it so that if you want to insult someone, ask them if they're pregnant because then it makes the fool asker seem kind. When they're not. They're just a nosy, self righteous asshole. I hate this disease because I work too damn hard working out, eating right, to have people ask me questions like that. So, if I looked really fat and not pregnant, would I be more accepted?
Asshole. And you know what? These questions come from females! No man has stepped up to me and asked me that question. But a woman? Especially one who's smaller than me, will ask. Does it make you feel better that you're thinner than me??? ARGH!!!
Ebb and Flow
Today has been one of those roller coaster days. It's been either I have energy and feel like myself or it's like someone pulled the energy plug. Pain wise, same deal. Either it's been fine (or I've ignored it and did what I had to do) or it's been achy and sometimes sharp.
But this nausea is just...ugh. At first I thought it was from doxy being doxy, evil and manipulating. But I'm finding I'm having nausea all day. I'm hungry but nothing is appetizing because I think it'll make me nauseous. So as I'm holding off food, the nausea gets worse. I finally eat something and then a new, more intense wave of nausea goes through. Gratefully it's just nausea and not more. Which is good because I don't want
a) she's pregnant when I protest it's just the bloating and then they point to me losing my food as proof of pregnancy or
b) pity because I'm sick.
I've dealt with pity at work before. And as a strong woman, it's unnerving. An understanding or kind soul is one thing. Someone looking at you like you're just weak and, well, pitiful, is another. Lyme is humbling enough when you're not sure what part of your body is going to be attacked. Like today, as I'm sitting at my desk working, even now as I'm typing, that feeling that someone is squashing and squeezing my neck was almost unbearable and then it stopped. To go to my lymph nodes and swell and become painful. Then travel back to my elbow and shoulder joints, just because. There's no rhyme or reason other than, it hurts and you want it to go away but nothing works. So to be double humiliated with co-workers pitying on you does nothing for the self esteem but make want to whine in self-pity "Why me?!" But, I tell myself, why me? Because only a strong person can handle it and God thought that person is me, so let's own it.
And that line of reasoning works. Sometimes.
But this nausea is just...ugh. At first I thought it was from doxy being doxy, evil and manipulating. But I'm finding I'm having nausea all day. I'm hungry but nothing is appetizing because I think it'll make me nauseous. So as I'm holding off food, the nausea gets worse. I finally eat something and then a new, more intense wave of nausea goes through. Gratefully it's just nausea and not more. Which is good because I don't want
a) she's pregnant when I protest it's just the bloating and then they point to me losing my food as proof of pregnancy or
b) pity because I'm sick.
I've dealt with pity at work before. And as a strong woman, it's unnerving. An understanding or kind soul is one thing. Someone looking at you like you're just weak and, well, pitiful, is another. Lyme is humbling enough when you're not sure what part of your body is going to be attacked. Like today, as I'm sitting at my desk working, even now as I'm typing, that feeling that someone is squashing and squeezing my neck was almost unbearable and then it stopped. To go to my lymph nodes and swell and become painful. Then travel back to my elbow and shoulder joints, just because. There's no rhyme or reason other than, it hurts and you want it to go away but nothing works. So to be double humiliated with co-workers pitying on you does nothing for the self esteem but make want to whine in self-pity "Why me?!" But, I tell myself, why me? Because only a strong person can handle it and God thought that person is me, so let's own it.
And that line of reasoning works. Sometimes.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Hourglass Pt. 2
So with the bloating and now sudden weight, I exercise. My goal is to have an hourglass shape or close to it. Kind of hard when you're bloated no matter what. But this site gives pretty good advice on how to achieve it. So lately I've been attempting the high intensity interval training on the treadmill at the gym. Warm up for 15 minutes walking and then speed walk and recover for 10 minutes. I love what it's doing for my legs. But it doesn't seem to do anything for the bloating.
This bloating is relentless. I'm drinking my homemade kefir and lots of water. And came home and rested an hour. No dice. But my happy moment was I did my weight lifting for my arms and I saw definition in the mirror as I was working out. Yes, the weight lifting hurts in my joints. But I figure it hurts anyway, so at least work out my arms.
But I do like working out. Finally.
This bloating is relentless. I'm drinking my homemade kefir and lots of water. And came home and rested an hour. No dice. But my happy moment was I did my weight lifting for my arms and I saw definition in the mirror as I was working out. Yes, the weight lifting hurts in my joints. But I figure it hurts anyway, so at least work out my arms.
But I do like working out. Finally.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Hourglass
So, after the last post, you would think my mind would be solely focused on getting healthy. And it is. But my mind has been preoccupied with another matter, one that partly inspired me to write this blog. Weight loss and fashion.
An unfortunate side effect of Lyme disease is bloating. And instead of being a PMS bloat, it's an all the time bloat. It's not cute. As for fashion, well, I've had a non-existent relationship with fashion until recently. Basically, I was a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers girl until I worked at a firm that made fashionable clothing a doable, non-fussy, lifestyle for me. Now I'm obsessed with fashion and being bloated in all the wrong places just isn't what I want when I find that ultra cute dress.
I'm mentally obsessed with losing the bloat because before Lyme, I reached my perfect size. It was healthy and I had curves in all the right places. But as soon as I was diagnosed with Lyme, the bloat began. And the enviable early 20s metabolism went kaput as well. Since then, I basically look like I'm 5 to 6 months pregnant every day and my swollen ankles convince people that I am pregnant even through my protests. I can't tell you how many times I've had to explain to someone that my bloated state is from Lyme Disease and not from a pregnancy. But it's humiliating emotionally. And according to Couture Allure Vintage Fashion blog, Spanx, ladies, is a body smoother, not a body shaper. And when you're bloated, no amount of smoothing will make that go down, I can attest to that.
In my quest to bring down the bloat through diet, exercise and modern shape wear, I stumbled upon this gorgeous, vintage 1950's cocktail dress at a consignment store. And I fell in love, but it didn't like me wearing Spanx. In fact, it loudly mocked me as I tried on the dress. But I bought it anyway and made it work. Glad for the poofy skirt, because that's where all the bloated bit of me went. So I went home to Google, my search muse, and found that women in the 50s wore shapewear, a foundation garment underneath their dresses. And the obsession began.
I want to buy one of these foundation garments and hope that they will bring down the bloat. But I'm going to my Lyme Dr next week. So, money for the Lyme Dr or foundation garments? In my current frame of mind, I'm leaning towards the foundation garments.
An unfortunate side effect of Lyme disease is bloating. And instead of being a PMS bloat, it's an all the time bloat. It's not cute. As for fashion, well, I've had a non-existent relationship with fashion until recently. Basically, I was a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers girl until I worked at a firm that made fashionable clothing a doable, non-fussy, lifestyle for me. Now I'm obsessed with fashion and being bloated in all the wrong places just isn't what I want when I find that ultra cute dress.
I'm mentally obsessed with losing the bloat because before Lyme, I reached my perfect size. It was healthy and I had curves in all the right places. But as soon as I was diagnosed with Lyme, the bloat began. And the enviable early 20s metabolism went kaput as well. Since then, I basically look like I'm 5 to 6 months pregnant every day and my swollen ankles convince people that I am pregnant even through my protests. I can't tell you how many times I've had to explain to someone that my bloated state is from Lyme Disease and not from a pregnancy. But it's humiliating emotionally. And according to Couture Allure Vintage Fashion blog, Spanx, ladies, is a body smoother, not a body shaper. And when you're bloated, no amount of smoothing will make that go down, I can attest to that.
In my quest to bring down the bloat through diet, exercise and modern shape wear, I stumbled upon this gorgeous, vintage 1950's cocktail dress at a consignment store. And I fell in love, but it didn't like me wearing Spanx. In fact, it loudly mocked me as I tried on the dress. But I bought it anyway and made it work. Glad for the poofy skirt, because that's where all the bloated bit of me went. So I went home to Google, my search muse, and found that women in the 50s wore shapewear, a foundation garment underneath their dresses. And the obsession began.
I want to buy one of these foundation garments and hope that they will bring down the bloat. But I'm going to my Lyme Dr next week. So, money for the Lyme Dr or foundation garments? In my current frame of mind, I'm leaning towards the foundation garments.
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