So back to my original quandary: when to schedule an eye appointment so I can replenish my stock of Sea Green contacts from 1-800-Contacts. They get a little hinky when they can see you haven't seen an eye doc for a couple of years. But I also need to make sure this freaking infection is gone, too. The last thing I need is to have it break out again while I'm down in La Jolla at my business meeting. Ah, serendipity...
Let's see. The other excitement around here (yes, my life is a regular ball of fire) is that I got my hair chopped about 6 inches. I like it. It's okay. I think I was picturing something a little bit different, but dang if I know what. To me, it just looks like a 6 inch shorter version of what I already had. I think I was picturing something a little more choppy, tousled, more... I don't know. I'll have to find a picture I guess. I did show my stylist a picture, but I think I was picturing things that weren't in the picture, like choppy and touseled, and she gave me exactly what the picture looked like. Not her fault at all. So now, unless I can come up with a physical image that's like what my head is thinking of, the dilemma will turn into whether to go shorter or to grow it out a little longer. Like I said, my life is a ball of fire. Here's what I got:
I love the glow of the monitor. Zeros out all of those pesky wrinkles and lines. This is pre-bike ride so it's still nice and neat.
Here it is again after a bike ride. It's a little bit messier, which I kind of like. Sort of. But it's still not exactly what I had in mind, so I have some searching to do, I guess.
Because if I go to my stylist again with just a vague idea, and then don't like it, I think she'll throw me out. I need to step carefully here.
Other good news? I've reached a 10 pound weight loss! WOOT! It was a hard-won battle, my friends. My body does not let go of pounds easily these days, but I'm winning the fight, slowly but surely. My old clothes are feeling a little loosey, and things that were too tight (or impossible) before, are beginning to range from comfortable fit, to reasonable. It's quite exciting. Like anyone, I still look at myself and think "You're fat." But I'm also having more days where I can see the difference. It's far from perfect, or even really good, but I'm seeing PROGRESS. I've hit a weight that I haven't been at since 2002, and that's REALLY exciting. Of course, being a MAN, L has lost more weight than me. He tries not to openly gloat, but it makes me want to spike his Diet Coke with the full bore formula. But really - he's been so supportive, and so helpful in not sighing heavily when he can't have an evening TV snack that I can't complain.
Yesterday we both broke ranks and hightailed it down to Balboa Island for a frozen banana dredged in chopped pecans and crumbled Heath Bar pieces. You know how you have that day where you just can't take it anymore? No more diet, no more sensible eating. Well, yesterday was that day. But what you begin to realize is that no one got fat eating the occasional sweet. Or even a weekly treat. They probably didn't lose weight either, but it's the constant, mindless popping this or that into your mouth (and my "this or that" usually involves cheese or something sweet. Or bread) that kills you. The nightly TV snack. So we've stopped that nonsense. We've been riding our bikes 8 miles/40-45 minutes 5-6 nights a week. The other nights we try to do something else a little different, like the stationary bike (which also has an elliptical feature) or just some weights or yoga. We record everything we eat in our My Fitness Pal app, and (I never would have thought it) it's working!! Anyway, enough about that. I just needed to toot my own horn for a minute. Indulge me.
To catch you all up, Dad is off chemotherapy. The goal was reached, and he's now taking some kind of "maintenance" drug that is hot off of FDA approval. His copay is $1700/month. Wow. I'm not angry or resentful - drug research and development is horrifically expensive and costs need to be recouped. But I had to wonder how the average patient would be able to afford that. It's seven long years before a drug's patent is up. Until then, it's crazy expensive. His hair is coming back in little peach-fuzzy tufts, and his color is better. He's able to stand up straighter now that he's not so exhausted. Good to see.
My aunt is doing a little better. She took another tumble which finally FINALLY convinced her that she needs to do something about her muscle strength. Which means she needs to eat 3 meals a day and do some kind of meaningful exercise - not just walk around her small room. My sister in law is over there teaching her how to access the internet (I have mixed emotions about my aunt turned loose on the Internet...) and tomorrow I am taking her shoe shopping. Baby steps. But steps forward all the same.
The kids and grandkids are all doing well. And yes, that makes me nervous, checking over my shoulder for the next drama to hit. It's a shame that happiness also makes you a little nervous, isn't it? But only when I stop and think about it. Otherwise, I'm like a pig in slop. Blissfully unaware of the next Bad Thing. No point thinking too hard about it, because no matter what you prepare yourself for, it will for sure be something you would never have dreamed up. So I try to enjoy this happy patch, take pride in accomplishments, enjoy being with the Mister every night, live for the next grandchild sighting. Try to keep my spiritual armor strong and polished, and shiny, as that's always the best defense for events that are unpredictable and way beyond my control. Some days it feels like a mirror in the sun, other days not so much. But I notice that my hearing has improved from listening for answers to prayers. I am not so shy about taking needed action. I am able to find my voice when one is needed. I've come to realize that I am never alone. Never. All things that don't come easily to me. But with valued family and friends behind me and beside me, I'm getting better as I go along - learning and growing. And that's the whole point of being here.