Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Warning--This Post is About My Uterus

Dear Uterus--

I find your lack of regularity disturbing.

Last month you decided to surprise me by having Aunt Flo show up early.  4 days early.  This month, we're right at 28 days, and she is nowhere to be found.  How do you actually make these decisions?  24 days, 27 days, 31 days.  I know that you're not susceptible to the usual external influences, boldly setting your own schedule even in the face of synthetic hormonal pressure.

I expect that perhaps you're cranky at me for not providing you an embryo to nurture.  Let's face it, Uterus, that while I trust you to do the right thing with an embryo, you really should trust me with the aftermath.  Do you realize that mammals occasionally eat their own young?  Do you want to take that risk with something of your own creation?  Do you?  Let me remind you that I have killed before.*

Is it not enough that I put up with your periodic tantrums?  Soothing them as best I can with hydration, exercise, favorite foods, occasional analgesics, and additional rest when I can attempt to achieve such a thing.  I certainly won't demand anything in return for my care and attention, but you're disappointing and confusing me here, so I would greatly appreciate some logical consideration from your end.


*Technically insects, mostly mosquitoes, but also one or two trout.

Friday, October 24, 2014


Please, please people: can we stop with the negative food talk already?

Here are the two egregious incidents, which took place during lunch yesterday.  I was in an all-day training session, and they brought us boxed lunches.  The box lunch includes: sandwich (selection of various meats or vegetarian), bag of chips, piece of fruit, and cookie.

First exchange, as I was deciding on which type of sandwich I wanted:
  Woman: "Ooh, bacon and avocado.  But I'd better be good, and stick with the turkey."
  Me: "Well, I think that you should choose whichever one would be most satisfying."
  (She stuck with the turkey, probably a bit mystified that one could make food choices not based on food policing.)

Second comment, as I was walking away with my lunch:
  Woman: "Carbs, carbs, carbs."
  Me: (In my brain.)  "Yes.  Carbs.  It's what cells crave."

At that point, I proceeded outside to enjoy my lunch in the sunshine, while looking out over the pond, which was complete with ducks, geese, seagulls, and a grebe.  I'd gone for the turkey sandwich, because I looked at it and thought, "Turkery and cranberry, that looks really good."  It was really good, with sunflower seeds adding a nutty crunch along with the turkey, cranberry sauce, lettuce and tomato.  I ended up not eating 1/2 of one slice of bread, 'cause there was just too much bread.  While I sat, a co-worker strolled by with his lunch, and I was able to unload my chips, which I really didn't want.  Then I decided that I would hold onto the apple until another day, but I did want to eat my cookie, along with a cup of coffee.

Lunch: delicious.  Feeling of satisfaction: high.  Food police: zero.  While it's rough being so familiar and aware of negative food talk, because it is indeed everywhere, it also makes me happy that I don't feel any need to engage in it myself, and I can express my contrary opinion when it seems suitable, in the hopes that perhaps, someday, other people will learn that it's just food, not a means for damning yourself.

On the weight-lifting front, we've started a new phase.  Phase 4 has moved away from the high-volume days of Phase 3, and instead is incorporating some variety in the lifting styles.  We have an exercise for power (less weight and more speed during the motion), one for strength (the typical heavy weight, for 5 sets of 5 reps), one for strength endurance (less weight, but 3 sets of 20 reps, and having to deal with definite muscle fatigue), and two on a circuit (to round things out, as far as I can tell.)  There's also some cardio intervals on the non-lifting days, though I need to figure out the best way to do them.

I'm dealing with some low back pain right now.  Nothing severe, just enough to make squats problematic.  I've got a massage scheduled for Monday, and I'm planning to book a session with my chiropractor on Thursday or so.  The neck is sore, too.  Maybe I can convince someone to give me a backrub this weekend.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


It's funny the way that little things can trigger old memories and feelings.  Seeing a picture posted by a FB friend nearly made me start bawling (combination of sad memory and hormones).  Oh, the feels, good and bad.

Here's the story: five years ago, I was with my family in Utah, getting ready for my sister's wedding.  It was a lot of typical pre-wedding fun and craziness: getting pedicures all together, planning and buying supplies for a post-wedding brunch at my parents' house, rehearsal dinner and meeting the in-laws.  So much fun, so much family togetherness.  Gotta love it.

In the midst of this, I received a text message from my good friend and roommate, C.  A good friend of hers, and friendly acquaintance of mine, was coming off of life support after a prolonged stay in the hospital following complications from H1N1 influenza.  "Yay!" I thought, "Kitty's finally doing well enough to come off life support!"


It took me a while, reading what people were posting on FB, to discover that it was quite the opposite.  She was not coming off of life support, she was being taken off of life support because it was time to let go.  There was not much I could do to process it at the time, a death intruding into a bright and happy whirlwind of life and love and weddings.

I give a lot of credit to Kitty's friends and loved ones who were so much more deeply affected.  They have been remembering her at the start of October every year since.  It's the only way that anyone can achieve immortality in this world.