Merry Christmas! Almost...

Merry Wednesday-before-Christmas, anyway!

I'm ready. Mike and I opened our presents on Monday during the power outage, even though his last hadn't come yet (it did yesterday, so I let him open the box). The last of Mom and Dad's presents is wrapped and sitting by the Christmas snowman (yes, I will post a picture!). The house is nearly clean, and should be by Thursday, if I have my way. I need to go pick up appropriate picture-hanging nails from Canadian Tire this afternoon to get the family picture wall up on the wall instead of the floor. I need to make up a fish feeding schedule and give it to the neighbours, but that won't take long. I've emailed the local greyhound rescue contact to set up an appointment for after Christmas. My reactions to the supplements seem to be evening out. And I'm so ready to take some time to sit and rest with family and friends.

Is it Friday yet?

Who can resist a face like this?

Not this exact face, naturally, but something like it. Well, the answer is, clearly, not us. Stay tuned.

Off. Very, very off.

It's not as bad as yesterday. Yesterday I'd call people and they'd answer the phone, or they'd call me, or walk by and speak, and I know it was English. I do. But for the life of me, I couldn't understand them. At least that hasn't happened today. Yet.

It's probably a combination of stupid work stress and starting the supplements. Actually, it's probably mostly the supplements. I started on Wednesday night, and I'm taking (I'm not exaggerating; I'll take pictures if you like) 19 supplements a day (20 when the one that was out of stock comes) from 10 different pill bottles. Add to that the tart cherry concentrate I'm adding to one bottle of water a day, and the tablespoon of dirt (I swear it's dirt. I know it's not, but that's what it looks, tastes, and feels like) that I need to mix into just over a quarter litre of water and shoot, and chase with another quarter litre, and that's a lot of new stuff that's going into my system. And my system, which is so used to living with what's wrong with it, is waking up and taking notice. And knocking on the door like a nosy neighbour that isn't too impressed with the landscaping you're doing and saying, "Excuse me. Just what is it that you think you're going to accomplish? A decrease in property value? See if you get any enjoyment out of that, you silly person!"

Okay, maybe that's just a little random, and the simile doesn't quite work. Who cares? I'm off, I told you already.

I'll just keep telling myself that if you're going to flush the toxins out of the system and get things that are imbalanced back in balance, you're going to feel like crap. I mean, worse than you already felt. And at some point, you'll start feeling better. At some point, English will actually be English again, and life will be good. Until then, if I look at you blankly when you speak to me, it might be a good idea to repeat yourself. Very slowly. Or type it out and show it to me. I seem to have no problem understanding the written word.

In other news, the four Harry Potter scarves are on their way to new happy homes! I don't know how much my beloved Hufflepuff scarf or the Slytherin scarf went for, but the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor scarves brought in $42 each for the Christmas Bureau! Am I sad to see them go? Not really. Someone will get great enjoyment from them. I've also been asked if maybe I'd be willing to make some on contract after Christmas. I'll have to think about that. I offered the asker that I'd teach her daughter and her friends to make them themselves, 'cause they're so easy. We'll see what happens.

I am down to two knitting projects (Mike's scarf and my afghan), as I also finished the baby blanket! I'll try to rescue all the pictures from the camera this weekend and do a photo update post. And post some pictures of our decorated house. Before Mike takes advantage of my non-understanding-English to get me to say yes to opening presents...

The Times, They are A'Changing...

Nearly three months to the day since I filled out the assessment form, yesterday night I finally had the conversation with the holistic nutritionist that I've been wanting to have. This is the conversation that talks about what's going on with me, and what we can do to try to resolve things. And here is what I gleaned from the conversation. Please forgive how disjointed it's going to be, but the conversation was an hour and a half long, and at least the last half hour was after 9 pm, which is when my brain smacks me upside the head and says, "You! No thinky!" So I'm not sure how much of that last half hour I retained or understood. But here we go.

• My adrenaline system is screwy. My cortisol levels are about 200 nmol outside the recommended range (the doctor didn't want to worry until it was into the thousands, though). Cortisol has this lovely side effect of causing the body to store energy as fat. This is part of the reason I couldn't lose weight last year, no matter what I tried.
  
• My digestive system is screwy. I have an underactive stomach, so it's not doing a great job digesting food. This sets up a whole host of other related problems, including protein leakage (which the body doesn't see as protein because it's not broken down into amino acids, and sets the immune system on them, meaning my immune system is doing what my digestive system should be, and not what it should be), liver overload (so toxins aren't completely cleaned out of the system, and this leads to overall pain and inflammation), and candidiasis.
  
• My hormones are screwy. I have too much estrogen, which is why I had (before birth control) terrible menstrual symptoms. This is controllable, eventually, without birth control.
  
• My thyroid is screwy. I'm exhibiting hypothyroidism, which is usually preceded by a period of hyperthyroidism (everyone remember five years ago when I went from 220 lb to 165 in about six months?).

So what does this mean. What does this all mean, besides I'm continuing my trend of being an interesting subject, someone to write medical journal articles about.

Well, it means the times, they are definitely a'changing. We're doing prep work until January. Why? Because no one is going to be able to do a complete cleanse over Christmas, and it's just not fair to ask them to. So we're going to set the stage, get some stability back into the system, and then January, go full bore. Sugar and alcohol are going to be gone. Wheat for the most part too. And our entire eating philosophy is going to have to change because (and I remember this clearly from last night) she said that we could have starches and vegetables for a meal, or vegetables and protein, but by no means should we be having starches and protein. And what have we been eating, practically every night? Starches and protein. This is going to be a paradigm shift.

But guess what I can have! Guess guess guess guess guess!!! FLATBREADS!!!!!!

I wish I remembered the whole conversation more clearly. I wish I remembered what it was she said about osteopenia, but that was towards the end of the conversation, and I remember just hearing the word osteopenia and commenting on it. It was just too long, and too late at night, and my brain went into information overload even before it started shutting down for the evening. But there'll be documentation coming to me soon, including something about what to take out of my pantry. When I get that, I think I have one of two options: either spend December trying to eat the stuff that doesn't make the cut, or give it away. Does anyone need a pound of sugar with only a little bit of it used?

And Mike's going to be going through this with me, so hopefully that's a good thing. I apologize right now, love, for all the weird stuff I'm going to be making us eat. Hopefully we can find stuff we like just as much as rose sauce, stroganoff, and Uncle Dave's, if those things become on the banned or unmodifiable list...

Christmas, or Is It Really That Close/Far Away?

The last few days, Mike's been asking me if we can open presents yet. I keep telling him that a) I don't have all of his yet, b) he doesn't have all of mine yet, and (perhaps most importantly) c) he hasn't wrapped mine yet! Darling, darling, darling. An essential component in the opening of presents is to actually have something to open. A gift bag to peek into, wrapping paper to tear off (and yes, I do actually tear now. Shocking, I know), and no, the bag from the store doesn't count. Have I blocked all the loopholes? Probably not. He'll find one, like the one in our agreement about winning the lottery (if we win the lottery, he'll go learn how to cook at NAIT. He just... won't cook. Ever. He'll know how, but he doesn't want to accept this amendment to the original agreement, that he'll actually cook...).

This past weekend I bought myself some wool. For those on Ravelry, I'll post what kinds here soon, but it was two skeins that Sheila thought would be good for the Yarn Harlot's Unoriginal Hat, and a skein of sock yarn. Plus needles for the sock yarn. The lady at the store remembered me (it took her a while, but she did eventually remember!), and asked me if the blanket was done. I explained why it wasn't, but that got me thinking that, you know, it'd be nice if my first ever knitting project was done. But no. I cannot touch it, or cast on the hat, or figure out which pair from Favorite Socks I want to try to attempt. No, I have things to finish first. The Slytherin Scarf. Sarah's Baby Blanket. Must... Finish...

Christmas is coming fast, though. Some days, not fast enough, but then I look at the calendar and realize exactly how close it is. And I still have much to do... Like now. Must fly; too many appointments!

Singin' dallah dallah bill, y'all

I'm listening as Mike tries to pick songs for a driving CD for my dad, and I remark internally how my taste in music has changed, yet stayed the same. Perhaps broadened is a better word. Or perhaps the different styles of music have come closer and closer together, so that there isn't so much a difference between rock, pop, country, and any of the others you might choose to mention. Not sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to do some research for a song title for him. :)

Hair

The last time that Dad was up, one of the first things he said to me was, "Your hair is getting long!" Was it? I hadn't really noticed, but I suppose you don't when you live with it every day. But comparing it now to the "engagement" picture, yeah, it's a ton longer. So today, I'm going to get it cut (and highlighted again). But I don't want it to be too much shorter. To be honest, I like it long, and the longer, the better. I still remember the "afro" years. I mean, it had to be done. My hair was so fried, and really needed a good long time to recover, restabilize, and decide it really did want to be ringlettey, even at a good length, before growing it out. As much as those years were good for my hair, they were horrid for my self-esteem. My boyfriend at the time took one look at my new hairstyle and said he preferred it long (he hadn't yet joined The Brotherhood, and I hold out serious doubts that he ever will). I spent the better part of high school ignoring calls of "Pat! Hey Pat!" and was confused until I found out exactly who/what they were referring to. After that, it was extremely destructive, and to this day, I am appalled by the meanness of children (and yes, I include people in high-school in the "child" category). There were some "fun" moments, like on the band trip in the Bahamas when people amused themselves on a bus ride by seeing if they could lose pens in it, but oh well. When I started Uni, I decided to grow it out, and thought it took several years to reach a good length, and then a few more before I discovered that salon products really are better for my hair and allow it to grow more before frying, I much prefer it this way. I've even learned to wear my hair down all the time.

There are things I wish I could change. I wish I could knit myself this, but I know what it'd look like. I'd either have to tuck all my hair underneath it and look like I have a very oddly-shaped skull, or my hair would stick out horizontally from underneath it and I'd have to wear it to bed because there's no darn way I'd take that off in front of a living soul before I go in the shower the next morning. Even Mike. I'd also like it if it didn't clog the shower drain, wrap itself around the brush on the power head, or basically didn't make me feel so much like a DLH dog or cat when I'm sweeping/vacuuming/looking at the shirts and jackets I wear a lot. I mean, I shed. A lot. You wouldn't think it by how thick my hair still is, but I do. And I wish I didn't look like a complete ditz playing with my hair, because it's so much fun to play with. :) Ringlets FTW.

So today, cut and highlights, complete with hopefully a band and a half of the Slytherin scarf (damnit, it's going to get done...), 'cause highlights take forever. And if I tell her that I'm pretty much going straight home to bed, she might not do it up too much either. I guess I'm not the only one that likes playing with my hair.