What a Wonderful Day

Back when I learned that the hip surgery was going to have to be earlier than anticipated.  I selected today as the day to be back to myself.  I thought by today, I would be finished with PT and that other than a few remaining tweaks, I'd be back to myself.  I was mostly right.

I'm not finished with therapy.  I didn't anticipate starting late because I was so weak, nor a week off due to the holiday.  I have four sessions left, two this week and two next.  Hopefully, then I will be able to drive.

I've shed most of the hip related accommodations.  I still have the sock aid, and the toilet raiser at home.  I am still taking the cane in public both as an aid to me and a warning to others.  At home, I hardly use the cane at all.  Today, I walked to the mailbox and back.  I took the cane to help me get up the stairs.

I've weaned myself off of the pain medicine except for before therapy.  I'm too much of a wimp to try PT without a little numbness, in both mind and body.

It is great.  I am glad that I was able to get so close to the goal I set for myself.  But, it has not been easy.  Even this morning, I had to really give myself a lot of positive self talk just to get out of the bed. It was dreary and rainy and the days of me being able to lay in the bed whenever I want are drawing to a close.  I knew though, that if I didn't get up and get on the Wii as I had told myself last night, today would be a washout.

I got up and weighed on the Wii.  I only did the body test part because I do have therapy this afternoon and I didn't want to overdo!  I'm also getting back with the water drinking and food monitoring.  I'm not going to say weight loss plan just yet.  We have too much food that isn't on any one's nutritious food plan.  Still, without my pain meds killing my appetite, I need to be careful about my intake.

I'm hoping by easing back in to things, the transition won't be so abrupt or difficult.  So far, it is great!  

A Thanksgiving to Remember

We had a very nice day yesterday celebrating Thanksgiving.  The weather was perfect.  We even had the doors and windows open to let in the fresh air.  We ate at my sister's house.  Both her sons and their wives were there along with her grandchildren, and with various other friends and extended family.

I knew that we would have a good time.  We always do, but Wednesday night I cried because there will not be a time during all of the holiday season this year that the whole family will be together.  I intend to show up at everything and I know it will be fun.  It just isn't the same without everyone.  I'm not so sad for me but for the ones not there that miss out.  I want to remember two especially fun and funny events from yesterday.  So, I am recording them here.

My nieces were dressed in adorable brown dresses that were alike but not matchy-matchy.  Both dresses had turkeys appliqued on them and they both looked precious.  The older niece (N1) who finally has hair had a cute bow in her hair.  The 10 month old (N2) is still adorably bald.  (It is hard when I don't have permission to use names!)

N1 and I were playing after we'd eaten.  The bow fell out of her hair.  I told her I'd put it back in but she was too busy with her games to bother with that. So, I handed the bow to 65MD.  He decided to put it in his hair.  He just clipped it on top of his head, and didn't say anything.  He just waited for N1 to notice.  When she did, she laughed so hard she could hardly stand up. She then had to tell everyone in the house individually, that Pop had a bow on his head.

Then she decided that Daddy needed to put the bow on his head.  Then Uncle D.  Then Nanny.  Then Lolli, etc.  It got funnier every time.  We were all laughing like we hadn't laughed in a long time.  It was, indeed, hilarious.  Pop might just have to start wearing bows whenever he is around N1.

Later, N1 decided that she wanted to "sing the pokey-pokey" which translated is "hokey-pokey" although I'm not sure about the spelling.  We are very loose with the hokey pokey.  We don't say left or right.  We just say put your hand or foot in and out.  Our verses are:  hand, foot, head, and whole self.  We sing those verses over and over.  N2 was in the room sitting in my mother's lap when we started.

I actually do not participate in all of the movements just yet.  It is OK for me just to sing while N1 prances around.  She mostly does the 'turn yourself about' part anyway.  And the clapping.  When I started to sing, N2 began to lean back & forth to the rhythm and we thought that was cute.  When I started singing the 'head' verse, she put those fat, little baby hands on her bald head and clapped at the end of the verse.  We all thought it was adorable and that she must be very advanced for her age to do the hokey pokey.  Just to be sure, I sang that verse again.  Once again, she kept the beat, put her hands on her head and clapped at the end.  This time she even sang a bit.

I wound up singing that verse about 10 times.  EVERY time, she put her hands on her head and clapped at the end, while she sang along.  She wouldn't do the other verses.  She had no interest in putting her hands or feet in, only her head.  We called the others in to watch and she would perform on cue, except for when her mother was watching.  Even when her mother was hiding, which we couldn't quite figure out but agree it has to do with extremely high intelligence!!  It was a blast.  I can't wait to see her again and she if she still wants to 'put head in' or not.

Baby number 3 will be here at the end of April.   I cannot wait to see what joy s/he brings!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope everyone has a wonderful time with family and/or friends tomorrow.  

I've had a good week.  65MD has been off from work all week.  He started laying tile!  I got my hair done and no PT this week.  Family starts arriving tomorrow afternoon, so we will have a late meal together.  Most everyone will stay through Monday, so I won't be around much.  This will be my first time seeing our newest family member.  He or she is still inside Mommy.  Maybe we'll find out if we'll be getting another girl or a boy.  My feeling is girl.

Until next week, here is a progress picture on the floor

About Last Night

My almost 3 year old niece was in a Thanksgiving production at her school last night.  Wild horses could not have kept me from that performance.  It was my first outing that was not medically related since surgery.  It totally knocked the stuffing out of me but that is not the point of this post.

I haven't seen my baby nieces since before surgery.  I was missing them a lot.  I'd been in touch with their mother.  She was concerned that they might hurt me somehow.  I assured her that if they bumped the incision it might cause pain for a while, but it would not do any damage.  Still, she was cautious.  When she mentioned that the nearly 3 year old was asking for me, I could hardly wait to see her.

We happened to arrive at the same time so we met in the parking lot.  65MD expected tears from both me and the toddler but we managed to keep it together.  I had taken my walker since I knew there would be lots of little ones around and thought it would be safer.  My little one decided she'd like a ride to the door.  Of course, I accommodated her and she rode on the walker to the door. 

When we got into the auditorium, she was to sit with her class until after her performance.  Then she could come sit with family.  She decided to forgo the performance and just sit with me. Oopsie.  If I'd realized that, I would have made myself scarce until her class had sung.  Who knew?

My sister sat with her and her classmates until performance time.  Then she had to carry her to the stage and put her on the stage.  She would not sing, nor would she wear her cute little turkey headdress.  In fact, standing there was too much for her.  She sat down and waited as patiently as she could for everyone else to finish.  Then she made a beeline for the family.

After the last class performed, we all had dinner together.  My niece insisted on sitting next to me.  I had gotten a brownie for dessert.  Her dad had filled her plate and did not get her any dessert.  As we were eating, I noticed that she pulled the brownie over in front of her.  We all did.  She wasn't trying to be sneaky.  She just wanted the brownie. Her dad told her it was mine and to give it back.  I said that was OK.  She could have it and I would get another one.

It was actually a pretty large serving and I thought we might share it.  Nope.  That child ate the whole thing.  It must have been good too because she wanted another one.  I wanted one too, or at least a bite or two.  We went to the dessert table and there were no more brownies like those.  She opted for a mini pumpkin cupcake with cream cheese  swirl on the top.  I got a cherry danish that looked good.  

When we got back to the table.  She wanted both.   I took one bite of the danish and didn't even want to swallow.  It was not good at all.  I gladly gave it to her.  She only wanted one bite too.  We also shared the cream cheese swirl on the cupcake.  Neither one of us wanted the cupcake only the cream cheese part.  Her dad thought she'd had plenty of dessert at this point.  As did I, but she disagreed so back to the dessert table we went.

There were still no brownies, but there was some chocolate bundt type cake there.  She picked up a slice and took a bite.  It wasn't what she wanted so she put it back and picked up another slice and did the same thing before I could get to her.  Our minister was standing there watching and laughing.  He said it was the best thing he'd seen all week.  Truth be told, I thought it was pretty funny too.  Of course, I had to tell her that we couldn't do that here.  I grabbed the 'tasted' slices of cake and tossed them in the trash.  She continued to look at the desserts but could not find one to her satisfaction.

I realized then, that she was looking for another brownie.  They were gone.  She tried a chocolate chip cookie and a couple of mini pecan pie tarts before giving up.  Her grandfather finished those off for her, along with the cherry thing and the pumpkin cupcake!

All in all, it was a wonderful evening.  We got to be together and she saved me from the brownie.  Instead, I just had a few bites of dessert and that was enough.  Oddly, my weight was down this morning.  I am finally just 1.8 pounds over pre-op weight.

Visit with the Surgeon

I was the surgeon yesterday.  He was very pleased with my progress.  He said my job now is to get stronger.  He agreed with the therapist that I need more sessions.  I didn't cry this time.  I've made peace with that.  I won't have any next week because it is a short week and we just couldn't get our schedules together.  Beginning the next week, I will have two session per week for two weeks.  That really isn't so bad.  

Currently, my last session is scheduled for December 11.  At that time, I'll have another evaluation and know if I'll need more or if I am released.  I've decided to make the best of it.  The only real limitation this puts on me is that I can't drive.  And, since I don't like driving, that isn't a bad thing! 

I have a hair appointment between now and December 11.  I mentioned this during the sob-fest in the car on Monday.  Of course, 65MD would have said anything to make me stop crying and he said he'd take me to my hair appointment!!!  I might not hold him to it, but I will get my hair done.

I can't drive because I am still on pain medicine.  The dosage has been dropped down, but as long as I am going to therapy, the medical community believes that prescription strength pain medicine is required.  I can't say that I disagree.  So, as long as I am on pain medication, I can take naps any time I want.  I have an easy out for any slip of the tongue, memory lapse, typo, etc.  I even think that I am exempt from housework and cooking.  I just might get used to this. 

What a Difference a Day Makes

I had a wonderful weekend.  I walked around the house without my cane whenever 65MD was in the house.  I cut back on pain meds and gave serious thought to stopping completely.  I had a real glimpse of what life is going to be like when all of this is behind me.

I went to bed Sunday night thinking of the blog I would write on Monday.  It was quite witty and well written.  It was all about exercise, eating & water, and how I'd managed those things while I was recuperating, my transition plan and how I saw them going forward once I was fully recovered.  Then I woke up Monday morning.

Oh my!  65MD convinced me to take half of a pain pill before bed.  I am glad he did or we might have been in the ER!  I woke up at 2:00 am hurting, so I took the other half.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I should have taken a whole one then.

Clearly, I didn't blog yesterday.  If it hadn't been for PT, I wouldn't have left the house.  I hardly left my little nest.  65MD has made me a very cozy little place to rest during the day, that we've taken to calling my nest.

By the time to go to therapy, the pain had diminished but was still very much there.  This was my evaluation as I see the surgeon tomorrow.  My therapist told me several visits ago that I might not need any extra time.  Yesterday's visit proved that to be untrue.  

She took the measures to send to the doctor but I knew I was not making the marks I needed to.  One one measure, she kept asking me to push just a little harder.  I knew I must have been close to the mark she was wanting.  I just couldn't do it.  The pain had come roaring back and I could not push through.

I knew she was going to have to tell me that she was recommending more sessions.  I let her off the hook.  I told her I was OK with the extra time and even smiled as I told her I'd  call and make more appointments after checking the schedules of my PT 'taxi' drivers.

As we got in the car, I told 65 the news.  I was a little surprised that not one tear slipped out.  I thought my voice would crack or something.  It didn't.  He sighed and started to say something encouraging, and I burst into sobs.  Something about that sigh broke me.  The dam burst and I sat in the car sobbing like someone had died.  I'm talking deep gut wrenching sobs.  Poor 65MD, was trying to comfort me but couldn't quite figure out how to since we were both in the car.  He finally just patted my leg over & over.

We had planned to go out to eat since he had a BOGO coupon from a place we really like.  We were going to stop by my mother's with some boxes while we were out too.  I guess, grasping for something to say, he suggested that we just go home.  And, of course, it would make sense that I would not want to be running around town while I was hysterical.  But, I said no.  I said, I was not going to let this setback defeat me.  We were going.  

I secretly decided that I was going to order dessert.  Probably something creamy, like ice cream or better yet a warm brownie with ice cream on it.  Yes, I was going to order dessert.  I deserved it.

We went by my mother's.  She came out to the car, so we didn't even get out.  She knew this was evaluation day and was eager to get the news.  65MD jumped in and told her so I wouldn't have to.  She was disappointed for me, but didn't seem to be upset by it.

We went to eat.  I got full before I finished my meal and then I did not like any of the dessert options.  There was no warm brownie with ice cream.  There was no ice cream at all!  I confessed my secret to 65MD.  He said I could have gotten dessert, but perhaps this was a sign that it was an emotional response and I would enjoy dessert more another time.  He was right.

I am better today.  Not in so much pain, because I'm back taking my medication.  And, I have a nice post about how I'm going to lose these last two post-op pounds and then move on to a more aggressive plan to get to my goal weight, all ready to go in my mind, when it is time.  No brownies with ice cream are included.

The Laundry

So yesterday the laundry issue became bigger than life.  I had to do something about all of those clothes piled up on the dryer.  Not to mention the dirty clothes that were piling up in the bathroom closet.

I knew that I could fold clothes, even on high doses of percocet.  That is a fairly low impact thing to do.  I could sit on the bed and fold clothes.  My biggest issue was getting the clothes from the laundry room to the bedroom.  I'm using the cane, so my right hand is occupied with that, leaving only my left hand to carry stuff.  I have taken to wearing a smock around the house because it has nice large pockets and I can carry stuff that way.  That wasn't going to work with the laundry.  My house isn't that big, but I was not willing to make the number of trips necessary to carry those clothes in my left hand and/or smock pockets to get them from the laundry room to the bedroom.

I hit upon a wonderful idea though.  I put the laundry basket on the walker so that it could be used like a scooter to transport the clothes.  First, I dumped the clean clothes from the basket on to the bed.  Then I got the reachers/grabbers/whatever those things are called, and got the dirties from the bathroom closet floor to transport to the laundry room.  I was very careful to keep the weight of the clothes to the front so that the basket didn't topple over.  (OK, it toppled over several times before I figured that part out. I am on percocet!)

I got to the laundry room and encountered a small problem.  The walker would not fit.  Let me take a moment to define "laundry room" so that there is no confusion.  We keep the washer and dryer in that room so we feel justified in using the term but it is not 100% descriptive.  We also keep cleaning supplies, wrapping paper, a refrigerator, some food staples and just about everything else we want to keep in the house but don't quite know where to put.  Calling the room the laundry/cleaning supply/wrapping paper/refrigerator/food/everything else room would just take too much time and I'd forget why I was even mentioning said room to begin with.

Also, the washer and dryer fit snugly against the back wall.  These are not those lovely washer/dryer combos seen on TV in those wonderfully large rooms that are probably bigger than my living room.  Think scratch and dent specials that aren't even the same color, in a room crammed with everything imaginable.  I mean really, every time we can't find something, we ask "Did you look in the laundry room?"

So, it was no surprise that the walker would not fit, especially now that it had been retrofitted with a laundry basket.  I am nothing, if not a problem solver.  The percocet helps with that.  I just backed in to the laundry room pulling the walker as far as it would go.  Oh, and I should add at this point that the laundry room was added on to the house.  It is not part of the original structure.  That makes the threshold into the room a little wonky and I had to give the walker a good tug to get it over that.

Once, I was sure the walker was as far in as I could get it thus saving me and my new hip precious steps, I put the dirty clothes in the washer.  Then, I piled the clean clothes in the basket keeping it nicely balanced.  The plan at this point was to take the clean clothes and pile them on the bed with the others and then lay down with them until it was time to move the clean clothes to the dryer.  This was just a little more than I bargained for.  Only there was one small problem.  .

The walker was stuck.  It would not move.  No way no how. I had a real problem because in my zeal to get the clothes done and glorying in my lovely invention, I had not put a phone in my smock pocket.  I could not call for help.  I had the grabber thingies but I could not reach the phone from that distance.  Even if I could, who would I call?

Was this important enough to call 65MD home from work?  I could call my mother but I was pretty sure the door was locked.  If she could even get in could she unwedge the walker? I feared I was stuck in the laundry room until 65MD got home from work.  There is a window.  I could open it and scream for help.  Were the neighbors even home?  What if they heard a woman screaming and called 911?  That would be majorly embarrassing.  No, I was left to my own devices to get out.

I had to get out.  There was no place to sit and I needed to sit.  I could lay in the floor.  There was probably enough space for me to curl up.  There were a couple of problems though:  1.  How would I get down?  2.  How would I get back up?  Then, I wasn't sure if it would be comfortable.  What time was it anyway?  How long before 65MD came home?  If he called or emailed and I didn't respond maybe he would realize I was in grave danger and come rescue me.  Fat chance.  I was on my own.

I jiggled, jimmied and jammed.  I shoved the grabber things all around the edges of the walker to see what was hanging it up.  How in the world could it go in and not come back out?  I finally mustered all of my strength and shoved the walker as hard as I could while trying to lift it. It finally broke free and I did not go sprawling with it.  Plus, I think those marks on the door jamb add character to an old house.

I made a beeline for the bed.  I don't know how long I rested, but I had a nice long lay about.  I went back to the laundry room sans walker to move the clothes to the dryer.  Luckily, it was a small load and when it was time to take them from the dryer, I left the walker in the kitchen and I was able to gather up the newly clean clothes in just a couple of trips.

After another rest, I folded all of the clothes.  By the time 65MD came home.  My clothes were folded and put away.  His were folded and piled neatly (I'm on percocet so interpret that loosely) in a chair.  The towels and wash clothes were on the walker but not in the basket,  I had put that away, ready to go to the linen closet.  

The first thing 65MD did after greeting me was to wheel the walker out of the room.  He went towards the bathroom.  Wow!  I still needed rest so I stayed in the bed.  I heard noises coming from the kitchen and figured he was getting something together to reheat for our supper and I continued to rest.

When I got up sometime later, I found the walker in the hallway with the linens still on it, just outside the bathroom door.  I chuckled to myself and went on into the kitchen to see what was for supper.  I found nothing to eat, but all of those groceries that I mentioned that didn't quite get put away, were gone.  So were all of the clean dishes that were near their homes.  I went straight to the walker and put the towels away!

As we were going to bed last night, I noticed that 65MD's clothes were still in the chair.  I told him they were his clothes, and he said he'd noticed them but didn't realize they were his.  (Making me think that perhaps they weren't quite as neatly folded and stacked as I thought.) This morning when I got up they were gone.  He must have needed some clean underwear.  I found the clothes later right next to the dresser where he keeps them.

The End is Near!

My therapist told me yesterday that Monday would likely be my last session.  At this point, she sees no reason for me to continue.  I see the surgeon on Wednesday and she thinks he will agree.  If so, I'll be doing therapy on my own at home and will go back for x-rays periodically for a year.  In my mind, once therapy and this appointment are over (and go as expected), I will be largely over surgery.

My biggest issue right now is the incision. 65MD calls is leprosy.  It is ugly to say the least.  The blisters from the reaction to the tape turned into red sores which have dried and are flaking off.  TMI, I know.  It is still quite sore.  I'm still not real happy when something touches it.

I still have a way to go in several areas before I consider myself 'well' but mentally, I am over a huge hurdle. I have cleared my calendar as much as possible through the end of the year.  It will probably take me that long to get my stamina back.  

Now, I am wondering what to tackle first.  I've been working and have managed to clear through that minor backlog.  Now, I am thinking about laundry or the kitchen, or cooking.

I am NOT knocking 65MD at all!  He has shouldered a huge burden these past few weeks and has done a magnificent job.  No one could keep up with what he has tried to do.  Yet, the house is a disaster.  Of course it is the easiest thing to let go.  I totally get that.  I would have done the same thing.

It started in the laundry room.  He would wash a load of clothes and pull out what we needed.  The rest would get piled up on the dryer.  No problem.  Close the door.  No one goes in there anyway.  Only now there is about 4 weeks of stuff piled willy-nilly in there.  Probably more than I can tackle right now.

He's done a fine job of loading the dishwasher and running it.  He has the same philosophy with the dishwasher as the dryer.  Just get out what is needed and worry about the rest later.  He's had to actually empty it a time or two to load it with the dirty dishes that have piled up, only stuff doesn't actually get put away.  Stuff just gets put on the counter close to the cabinet it goes in.  I get it.  Everything can't get done.

He went to the grocery store yesterday.  He did a fabulous job there.  No strange things like 10 cans of chili starter this time!  Once again, he just took the stuff out of the bags and put it near where it is kept.  Actually opening the door and putting the item away is too much.

The clothes explosion that happened in the laundry room morphed into a kitchen explosion with stuff all over the place.  I don't think that is the place to start either.

I think the place for me to start is resting in the bed and contemplating a little more.  After all, I need to pace myself and I've written this whole post.  Right????   Plus, food is being delivered tomorrow.  I don't need to cook.

This & That

Not much to share.  I'm making progress in PT.  I gave up the walker yesterday and am now using a cane.  That is mostly for stability while I regain some stamina.  It is a very good thing.

My weight is still floating around 2 to 3 pounds over pre-op.  I'm not really trying to do anything about it though.  We're still eating food that is brought by friends and family, with a little take out here & there.  My exercise is PT, which is actually a pretty good workout.

I started back working yesterday.  I hadn't really not worked except the days in the hospital when I was largely disconnected.  Even though, I'd put the word out that I was having surgery and would be out of commission for a while, those emails kept coming.  I'd even put a vacation responder. I think people thought they'd just email me and I could respond when I was up to it.  Since I don't like having stuff hanging over my head, I responded to most emails as they arrived.  Yesterday was the day I started initiating emails, calls. etc.

Anyone remember the floor?  The bedroom redo that we started over spring break?   Anyone???  65MD actually said that he thought he might get back to that over Thanksgiving.  I'm not holding my breath, but at least the subject has come back up!!!

My next challenge is finding something to wear below the waist that doesn't hurt.  Anything touching that incision at all, hurts!  Around the house, I've been wearing long shirts and nothing below the waist.  I have some giant shorts from last time, that I've worn to PT.  Now, the weather has turned on me and I need to have my legs covered.  I tried some old nylon pants of 65MD's they are loose enough but when they touch the incision they really hurt.  I put on some soft stretch pants hoping the softer fabric would be the answer.  It isn't.  Now, I'm back to the giant shorts and turning up the heat.

See?  Not much to say.  I really appreciate everyone checking in on me.  I especially appreciate the supportive comments and emails.  I think it helps with the healing.

Health Conditions

I was looking through my discharge papers yesterday to be sure that I am following all of my post-op instructions.  I have three health conditions listed:

*THR (total hip replacement)

*menopause

*obesity

I was heartened to read that.  I am a very healthy person.  Two of the three, will resolve themselves in time - THR & menopause.  I will help them along, of course, with PT in the case of THR and dealing with the symptoms of menopause as they arise.  That only leaves me with obesity to deal with.

And we all know that is easier said than done.  Somehow, though, knowing that is my only issue, makes it seem so much more manageable.  I think I'd become so focused on my hips and all of the issues surrounding it, wellness seemed so far out of reach.  Now, all I have to do is lose weight, and I will have no ongoing issues.

Funny aside - 65MD was reading some of my medical records to me while in the hospital and it said I was "well nourished" which we both thought must be the current euphemism for fat.  We had a good laugh with that one.

Back to the weight, I have stalled out at between 2 and 3 pounds to go with getting to my pre-op weight.  I knew that I would stall out eventually.  I just hoped it wouldn't be until I got below pre-op.

Today, in therapy, I had the therapist that helped flush out so much fluid last week.  Before I could say anything about stalling out, she told me not be be concerned if I stopped losing and gained a pound or two.  She reminded me that I was rebuilding those cut muscles and that would offset any other losses, fluid or fat.  I was glad to know that as well because that is indeed what has happened and my intake has not increased.

For once, I'll be glad with a stall on the scales and maybe not get upset about an uptick!  She also tried to work some of the remaining fluid out.  I've been thirsty today, so she may have done it again. I'll have to let my clothes tell me this time, since the scales won't.   

Four to Go

I have now lost 11 pounds since Friday.  My skin does not feel as though it might pop, still there is excess fluid.  My pants are still tighter than I like for them to be.

Yesterday, my mother came to help me get dressed for PT.  She commented that I looked smaller.  I know she wouldn't just lie to me, and I also know that she wants to make me feel good.  She was right though, the scales were down again.

Since I am a mere 4 pounds away from pre-op weight, I feel confident in believing that I have lost actual weight post-op.

Now, is the time that I need to be extra careful.  My appetite has returned but my ability to move normally has not.  I'm still having a high level of pain and tripping in the kitchen this morning didn't help!  So, I'm on percocet and most comfortable sitting in the bed with both legs stretched out in front of me.  I can do several PT exercises from this position and do, but I know I'm not really torching the calories.

Plus, my family and friends are  determined that we will not run out of food.  So far, everyone has been quite considerate in asking about likes/dislikes/allergies, etc.  I say that I'm avoiding white flour & sugar and that I don't like tomatoes and mayo.  I hope that doesn't sound too picky.  These people are being generous and I don't want to seem ungrateful.  At the same time, I don't want their efforts to be wasted on something I won't eat.

Right now, I have some strawberry cookies that are scrumptious - a treat from a church friend.  They are the perfect mix of sweet and tart.  After two I am satisfied.  I also have a chocolate prune cake my mother made in an effort to help with OIC.  (It is a struggle to say the least!)  It seems so sweet that I can hardly eat a whole slice.  My sister told me that the anesthesia or something has screwed up my taste buds.  She did not think the cake was extra sweet.  Plus being too sweet has never been a problem for me in the past.

I have been eating chocolate pudding like it is the last day for eating chocolate pudding.  Well, not really.  I eat about half a cup per day, but it is the only thing that I have thought of that would taste good and actually did.  With a nice little serving, I'm satisfied and don't obsess about it the rest of the day.  65MD is going to try his hand at making me some from scratch!  He's such a good man.

Other than those three sweet treats, my intake has been good.  65MD is helping me monitor my intake as well, wanting to make sure I get plenty of vegetables, particularly green ones. (OIC!)  

It is a new thing for me for him to be so invested in my eating.  He's also been monitoring the scales along with me.  In times past, he's been supportive, but hands off.  He's let me do my thing, eaten along with me and shown interest, but this is a whole new level.  It is making me a little paranoid.  I'm wondering just how distorted my mental image is vs reality, or maybe paranoia is a side effect of the medication.

I'm not going to worry too long about that.  I'm going to focus on being happy that I've lost 11 pounds since Friday and enjoy the downward trend while it lasts.