7/7/14. The post where I start my diet by hosting a party.

7/7/14: slept horribly last night (as evidenced by the 63% sleep score).  Was it my foot or the cupcake at 11pm?  Hard to say, but I was still in the 7-7.5 range this morning.  Not the best way to start a Monday. 

And not just any Monday.  As you know, I've been trying to come up with a way to lose the weight I've gained since my diagnosis.  I have a friend who would also like to lose a few pounds.  Neither one of us is inspired by competition, but we are both inspired by shoes, so we came up with a different plan.  We made a deal that beginning today, neither of us can buy a new pair of shoes until we have both lost ten pounds.  So now the pressure is officially on.  While she is probably much more disciplined than I am when it comes to losing weight, I am very motivated by guilt.  I have already seen the shoes she wants to buy when we make our goal, and I do not want to be the reason she can't have them.

I'm not off to a good start, though.  Today after work, I threw a small get-together for a friend's birthday.  Along with the other snacks I prepared, my patient, long-suffering husband grilled pizzas.  Yes, you read that right.  He grilled pizzas. On his grill.  And they were fantastic!  He is a food genius.  I tried to exercise moderation, but between the pizzas and wine and cupcakes, I doubt I am going to happy when I step on the scale tomorrow.  And I doubt my friend is going to be happy when she reads this.  I promise to do better tomorrow.

I tried to balance the effects of tonight's dinner by going on my long walk this morning, despite my foot's protest.  (I did make one concession and avoided the big hill.)  It really is much more pleasant than walking up and down the same street four times.  Here are some things I wouldn't have seen if I had stayed on my street.

My foot stayed in the 7-7.5 range all day, which was a rude awakening. I'm hoping this is just a short-term reaction to my "gardening incident", because I've grown accustomed to having better days over the last couple of months.  Tomorrow after work I will make the drive up to my parents' home for the first time in awhile to accompany Mom to her next chemotherapy treatment.  I sure could use a 3-4 day.

On a side note, if any of you are concerned about the fly who took up residence in our house over the weekend, I'm sorry to report that he violated the terms of our agreement and met an untimely demise. The insect goodwill I built up from our vacation only goes so far.

7/6/14. The post where I'm glad I have a day job.

7/6/14:  woke up at about a 3.5, so I decided to do something bold.  I went on my full, pre-diagnosis morning walk for the first time in nearly a year.  It is approximately two miles, with some rolling inclines and something I call "the hill" at the mid-point of the walk.  I know from cycling up the hill that it has an 11% grade - not much by Tour de France standards, but enough.  I figured that after two weeks of walking up and down stairs, hills, and cliffs in Europe, surely I could stand the hill.  

The walk seemed to go fine.  Did it hurt?  Sure.  But not much more than walking on flat surfaces.  And frankly, not much more than sitting on the couch.  I remember my PT saying that what's important is not what it feels like when you are doing it, but how you feel the next day.  So I decided to do a controlled study.  If everything else was the same (shoes, activity, etc.) and I felt worse on Monday, I would cut back on the walk.

Since the trip and the grill purchase, we've been spending a lot more time outside, even in the heat.  Our tiny backyard (is "yardlet" a word?) is on the east side of the house, so it is mostly shaded by noon, which makes it a little more pleasant.  Sunday afternoon, I was doing some work on our patio container garden while my patient, long-suffering husband grilled.  

All it takes is one moment of inattention.  I was crouching forward on a knee pad repotting some plants and when I stood up, I bent my toes forward and stood up by rocking back and putting my weight on the balls of my feet, just like anyone would.  Unless they have CRPS from a damaged nerve on the ball of their foot, that is. I felt a momentary shock wave of pain go through my foot that can't be described using the 1-10 scale.  It knocked the breath out of me and I stood there for a moment, stunned.  In normal circumstances, I would have guessed I had a broken bone and headed to the minor emergency clinic for an x-ray.  

And this brought up a question I had not previously considered.  In the future, how will I know if I really do injure my foot?  Visible blood will be an obvious clue, but swelling, redness, bruising, pain?  All could be associated with the CRPS.  I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, presuming I didn't come to it on Sunday.

Other than continuing pain, there was no other indicator that I had done anything wrong this time.  A little pinkness and bruising, but it was contained to a very small area and nothing like the discoloration I've had at other times with no obvious cause.  Hopefully not a serious setback.  But it ruined my controlled study.  Now if I have more pain on Monday, I won't know if it was from the walk or the gardening episode.  Good thing I'm not a scientist.

While my foot felt pretty rotten the rest of the evening (7-7.5), it was not so bad that I couldn't make cupcakes for a friend's birthday.  For those of you who don't know my family very well, my mother has been well-known for her baking skills my entire life.  Not only are her baked goods delicious, they are beautifully decorated.  They could be on magazine covers or in store-front windows.  While I inherited her ability to make tasty treats, mine leave something to be desired in the aesthetics department.  They are more like what you'd see at the factory seconds outlet for half off.  

What I lack in skill, I make up for in enthusiasm, and I was determined to make some pretty cupcakes. I decided my best bet was to go for elegant simplicity. Vanilla and chocolate.  Nothing too intricate or complicated.  When I finished, I was pretty proud of myself.  These cupcakes might not merit store-front window status, but they could be sold for full price.  Maybe all my effort is paying off.

Then I looked a little more closely at the chocolate cupcakes.  Since you are reading this blog on a computer, you probably know what an emoticon is.  Those little smiley faces, etc. people use to dress up their text messages and emails.  There is one emoticon used to express the sentiment that things aren't going well.  Since it's a little delicate, rather than try to explain it, I'll just show it to you.  💩  And I realized that was exactly what my chocolate cupcakes looked like, minus the smiley face.

No worries, I had a backup plan.  I got out the colored sugar crystals and went to work.  And when I finished, guess what they looked like to me?  A pile of droppings from a dog who had eaten an entire jar of glitter.  Good thing I'm not a professional baker.  I decided to leave bad enough alone and hope my friends didn't make the connection.  I tasted one and they are quite delicious, if I do say so myself.  As long as you close your eyes while you eat them.  

7/5/14. The post where it almost feels like we're on vacation again.

7/5/14: my foot felt pretty bad all night and I woke up early.  But there was nothing on the calendar today, so guess what I did?  Took a nearly two hour nap this morning.  And I felt much better the second time I woke up.

We had some "errands" to  run this afternoon.  I use "errands" in quotes because they included going to the specialty olive oil and vinegar shop, the specialty spice shop, and the new Trader Joes that just opened near our house.  In other words, an afternoon of food porn.  

We came home with our bounty and started cooking.  My patient, long-suffering husband was excited about using his new grill and I was excited for him.  After all, he doesn't ask for much.  (Maybe I should rephrase that.  He asks for plenty.  He just doesn't get much of it.)  A steak for him, swordfish for me.  Plus corn, bell peppers, and onions.  I contributed a salad and potatoes.  And no, we didn't eat all of those things.  We decided to cook once for the weekend.  The grill was a good investment.

We ate dinner outside.  Yes, it was hot, but we ate outside for two weeks in Europe in the heat, so we figured we could do it at home.  And it was great.  We were in the shade and there was a nice breeze. I have long been a fan of traveling as much as you can.  Every trip you take changes you in some way.  For instance, we have had a fly in the house for two days.  Normally I would not rest until the fly had been eradicated.  But after a week of living in harmony with the insects in Italy, the fly seemed natural.  He wasn't bothering us, so live and let live.  

While my foot felt pretty rough all day, it's feeling better tonight.  Instead of going from a 4 to a 6, it went from a 6 to a 4.  At least I'm keeping things interesting.  

7/4/14. The post where we do a lot of celebrating.

7/4/14: my foot was pretty cranky all night, but I still managed to get a decent night's sleep.  Today was going to be a casual day.  We were going to friend A's party around dinner time, so I expected to spend most of the day doing laundry and other chores. 

Around 11am this morning, my patient, long-suffering husband asked, "What time is friend B's party?" My response?  "Uh..."  I was not aware friend B was having a party.  Turns out the invitation had gone by email to my patient, long-suffering husband.  And the party started at 11:30.  Just enough time for a quick shower.

It was a very nice party.  By coincidence, I had friends there from several different walks of life, which made it even more fun.  After mingling for awhile, I got a plate of food and headed toward a group of church friends, but there were no seats available.  Not one, not two, but three gentleman friends (and I emphasize the word "gentleman") offered me a seat.  Furthermore, they determined among themselves which was the most comfortable chair and moved it into the shade for me.  Moral of the story?  Chivalry is not dead.  And I have excellent friends.

We left the party a little early, because we had one very important task to accomplish today.  My patient, long-suffering husband has wanted a grill for some time, and we just got confirmation from our homeowner's association that we can have one.  (Long story...)  He had done some research and already knew what he wanted, so we went to the hardware store and brought it home. We spent the rest of the afternoon assembling it and building a small pad for it in our equally small yard.  After ensuring that it was properly assembled and would produce heat, we went to our second party of the day.

Another lovely time.  While it had been a really hot day, the evening brought a nice breeze and it was quite pleasant out.  We spent some time chatting with friends, then headed back home for fireworks to end the evening.  We live on a bluff on the west side of a large city with multiple surrounding towns and we have a pretty good view.  The two best days to live in our house are July 4 and December 31.  Sitting on our balcony tonight, in addition to our city's fireworks, we could see fireworks from at least four other towns and multiple other unauthorized displays.  My neck is sore from spinning around to try to see all the different displays.  It was a pretty good day to be an American.  

My foot was pretty irritated all day (pain level 6-7) and I had to elevate it several times.  I'm starting to think it may not like really hot weather any more than really cold weather.  Thank goodness there is still a weekend waiting in the wings.  All this celebrating can wear a girl out.

7/3/14. The post where I am outwitted by my clothing.

7/3/14: didn't sleep well last night (64% sleep score), but I think I am over the jet lag.  This was just my normal not sleeping well.  My foot started the morning at about a 4, which has become the recent pattern.

Since it was effectively Casual Friday as far as the office was concerned, I decided to wear the wrap skirt I bought in Italy.  In a stroke of good luck (or maybe I just have too many clothes), I already owned a blouse, sandals, and jewelry that matched the skirt, so I had an instant ensemble.  I got out the skirt and realized it was like no other wrap skirt I've ever seen.  When I bought it, the shopkeeper explained how to put it on. Her explanation was about 1/3 English, 1/3 Italian, and 1/3 Charades, but I thought I understood.  Clearly, I did not.  After about 10 minutes of attempted wrapping, I gave up and went with plan B.  I guess I'll try to figure it out again sometime when I have a free afternoon.  Somewhere in Italy, a shopkeeper is laughing quietly to herself.

It was a pretty quiet day at work, with many people starting their holiday weekend early.  I came home after work to spend a little more quality time with the guest dog before my friends came home from their trip.  I've known myself my whole life, so I don't know why I was surprised that I bonded so quickly with the little guy and was so sad to see him go.  Good thing he's only 12 doors down and I know how to get into their house.  My friends may regret ever asking me to watch him.

Some thunderstorms moved in this evening, which may explain why my foot has been so unhappy.  It's been at about a 6-6.5 all night, which is also becoming a recent pattern.  While it's certainly better than the pre-Cymbalta pattern, I'm glad the spinal cord stimulator trial is coming up soon.  There was a very brief period after I started the Cymbalta when I considered postponing the trial.  That would have been a mistake.  Kind of like buying a skirt you aren't smart enough to wear.

7/2/14. The post where we breathe a sigh of relief.

7/3/14: woke up just 10 minutes before the alarm.  Progress!  I tried to take our guest dog for a walk, but he was just too sleepy, so I brought him back inside to snuggle with my patient, long-suffering husband.  Instead, I took myself for a walk and then rode the trainer for 10 minutes.  My foot felt pretty good, maybe a 4. 

While I would have been happy to continue ignoring the issue with the upstairs AC, cooler heads prevailed (Get it? Cooler heads? I crack myself up.)  My patient, long-suffering husband called our AC company out of concern it would completely quit working over the holiday weekend, which would be either outrageously expensive or miserably uncomfortable, neither of which sounded like a good option.  

After a thorough inspection, they determined that - hallelujah! - it was just a little low on freon.  Not low enough to be an issue most of the time, but just enough to make it hard to cool back down in the hot summer after three weeks of little use.  And the best news? They told us it was covered under our service plan.  We were a little skeptical at first.  After all, the wine cellar chilling unit was under warranty, but it still cost several hundred dollars in shipping and expediting delivery to ensure our wine was still drinkable by the time the replacement came.  But the AC company really meant it - the total cost of the visit was zero (unless you count what we paid previously for the service plan, I guess).  I can afford zero.

We only have one more day with our guest dog.  While he seems to have grown quite fond of us, he still misses his "real" parents.  They live on the same street we do, so we pass their house on our walks and he always heads right toward their front door.  You can't really blame him.  If I moved to another house on the same block, I might go to the wrong door a time or two myself.  However, if someone pointed out my error to me, I don't think I would fling myself onto the ground and refuse to move until someone carried me to my new house.  Good thing he's a little guy.

My spinal cord stimulator trial is two weeks away, so I am starting to do more research on it.  I found out that the specific brand of device my doctor uses is made by a company for which one of my oldest friends is a representative, so I contacted him to get his thoughts on it.  He gave me some good information and some questions to ask my doctor.  I've already gotten some good advice about it from other friends and everything I've read indicates it's the right thing to do, but it was nice to get another confirmation.  

We had a great dinner out with our choir friends tonight.  After about a month without rehearsals, we all missed each other and were ready to catch up.  My foot has been a little angrier this evening, but still no more than a 6.  One more day of work and then a three-day holiday weekend.  Thank goodness.  Living back in the real world is hard.

7/1/14. The post where I get twitchy.

7/1/14: slept all the way to 4:30 this morning.  By the end of the week, I should have this jet lag thing whipped.  Woke up with my foot feeling pretty good, back down to a 4.  Took our four-legged guest for an early morning walk and then rode my trainer for 10 minutes, for the first time since vacation.

I started Phase 2 of my "catch back up at work" plan today.  This is the phase where I start actually doing all the work that I prioritized yesterday.  I made some good progress.  With the 4th of July on Friday it will be a four day workweek, and I'm hoping to have things in good shape by then so I can enjoy the holiday.  I was also able to sneak in a mani/pedi, which I desperately needed after being a vagabond for three weeks.  In honor of the upcoming holiday, I chose Dining Al Frisco, a pretty shade of blue from the San Francisco collection, and Big Apple Red, a pretty shade of...well, you know...from the New York collection.  I look quite patriotic.

Here's a photo of the little guy who's visiting us this week.  

With dogs, just as with children, I love being the aunt.  It's impossible to say no to that face, so it's been a week full of walks and treats and snuggling.  I may not be allowed to watch him again in the future, but we sure have had a nice time.  One of his most interesting habits is his eating style.  He sneaks up to his food dish on tiptoes (imagine Fred Flintstone bowling), grabs a few pieces of food, and then runs across the room to set them down and eat them one at a time.  A pretty good way to stay in shape, now that I think about it.  Maybe I will start taking a bite of food and then getting up from the dinner table and walking across the room to chew and swallow it.  Then again...maybe I won't.  On a dog, it's cute and endearing.  On a human, it's just creepy.

I am still taking the Cymbalta and having pretty good success with it.  My nausea is almost completely gone, perhaps owing to the fact that my stomach has not been empty at any point during the last four weeks.  Sometimes I get a little dizzy if I get up or turn my head too fast, but that's a small price to pay for the relief I've gotten.  I've had one other side effect that appears to be increasing rather than subsiding - muscle twitches.  It is usually most pronounced at night right after I take the medicine or when I am really tired, but it can happen at any time of day and with any muscle, it appears.  

Tonight was a doozy.  My foot was starting to become really irritated, so I decided to sit down for awhile and watch a baseball game.  Suddenly, my arms, legs, and feet were twitching wildly.  Fortunately I was home alone at the time.  Except for the dog, who didn't seem to mind.  I guess when you regularly run across the room to chew each bite of your food, you can't judge.  

After about 15 minutes, it slowed down and eventually stopped.  It doesn't hurt - in fact, it is kind of interesting and makes me laugh.  But I suspect it may get old at some point.  I hope it will go away at some point, but even if it doesn't, I probably won't be taking the medicine forever.  Again, it is worth it as long as the medicine continues to work.  In the meantime, pay no attention to Twitchy Girl and her sidekick, OCD Dog.