In a Blink of an Eye

On what began as an uneventful work-at-home day, developed into a real pain. There I was minding my own business, typing away on my laptop when suddenly I got something in my eye. I began to blink automatically and started the natural process of tearing. This all happened on its own accord. Though it was my legs that propelled me with great speed to the bathroom where I ran the water and kept splashing my eye. Not finding great relief, I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed Visine. Again, not a great relief but enough to slow me down.

Walking back to my laptop, I grabbed the phone and called Jen. Had to share that I was really uncomfortable. Jen did give me the good advice to “not rub it.” I went on with my work and was still amazed that it was continuing to bother me.

I went to lunch to meet Kelly & Tina. I brought the eye drops with me…just in case. I spent the hour at lunch holding a wet napkin to my eye, grabbing a shot glass from the bartender to create my own eye-wash in the restroom, and finally called the doctor form the table.

Rushing home and then off to the doctor’s, I was surprised when he wanted me to go to the optometrist right away. He did not like that whatever it was had come on so fast. Rushing to pick up Logan who had stayed after school for Studio Art prep, I was now in agony. This agony was not so much pain as it was discomfort and making all my senses out of whack. My head hurt, I was nauseous, and couldn't concentrate.

By the time, I found the office and parked, I was mumbling to myself and losing all patience. Logan was kind and put up with my short answers and whining. We signed in and I suddenly turned into my father.

Picture Logan and me 30 years from now (and that’s how I became my dad.) Logan helped me fill out the paper work; he sat next to me telling me to keep my comments to myself. Oh c’mon “boo hoo” for the boy who’s mother said his allergies were acting up. Really!

Now back to the present as I rocked gently and started whimpering “God, make it stop, make it stop. Please call me next. Please.” I kept my sunglasses on as the light – dim lights! – were so bright. Shutting my eyes hurt and then dreading that I had to open them. Did you know the average person blinks 120x a minute? Do you know when it hurts to blink it feels like 1200x?

Relief was near. They called my name. I nearly sprinted to the examination room. I was thrilled to sit in the dim lit room with Logan looking on from the sidelines. Some eye drops to numb ‘em did the trick. Life was good again – truly it was. I realized I wasn’t going blind, I would live to see Logan’s handsome adult face, and now had a reason to lose weight. (What I didn’t share up until this point was that I had already mapped out what would happen to me as I went blind. You see the right eye that was injured is my good eye. We all know that I don’t really use my left eye for my “real vision.” It’s just an awesome peripheral vision tool.)

Doctor came in and did his thing which included rolling my eyelid like a window blind with a q-tip as the wooden base. He called Logan over to have him look and proceeded to remove something from inside the underneath of the eyelid. It was microscopic…or at least not visible to Logan’s eyes.

The verdict “…looks like part of an insect.” Ugh! So many things went through my mind – “Doctor, there’s a fly in my soup…I mean…eye” or “…I don’t know why, she swallowed a fly” to “ewww that’s so gross.”

Somehow, I refrained from wrapping my legs around the doctor and pulling him close to me for a big kiss. Logan and I made it home safe and sound (no dilation done) and rest that evening made the difference.

My P.S. to this story is that I spent the day at work say “I can’t see.” The word “can’t” pronounced as a big whiny sound. Did you now that 3, 8, 6, and 9 all look alike when your eyes are shot?

And that is what can happen in a blink of an eye.

"I'm Stuck...Again"

I'm sure in a past post, I shared the sensation of me being stuck. Remember way back when I began this blog. I was going to write about my metamorphosis from a woman with extra to the woman hidden within. Well...she's still in there somewhere. She just got stuck.

Now once again, I'm playing with words. Let me see if I can help you picture my first version of being stuck. Picture me at Chevy's Mexican Restaurant with the birthday club at work (Jen, Robyn, Irene, Gisele and me.) We order the same shared dishes as always as I sit back watching the conversation around me. Jen turns to her left to question me "You okay?" I look at her with wide eyes and say "No, how did you know?" She answers, "You're quiet and...ahh...you're quiet." You see over the past two years, Jen has learned that when I eat something that doesn't go down well, it will get stuck. It usually happens when I eat to quick, don't chew, or just eat something that doesn't agree with me. Most of the time, it feels as if you ate a handful of fries to fast & need a drink to wash it down. Not a good feeling, but not to painful.

There have been times that I have to excuse myself to simply spit. Remember that with the lap band, the food that doesn't pass the band will sit at the pass of the esophagus and eventually come up. Like a mama bird spitting up chewed food for the baby bird. For me, there's no bird to benefit. So that's one way that I get stuck.

Now on April 14th, I celebrated my two year anniversary. With pride I've kept off the 55 lbs that I've lost. With some regret, I do wonder where I lost the motivation to keep the weight loss going. Interesting enough, the motivation came back to me in the form of Gabe. Remember him - he's my P.A. who did my fills. It's been a good year since I last saw him and I thought it was time to see him again. Especially since I've been having more difficulty eating more than a few bites.

Since it had been so long, I had to have an Upper GI done. [Keep in mind once you're at your "sweet spot" with the right amount of saline fill, you don't go back for a while.] Truth is that I wasn't overeating or binging so I didn't think I needed Gabe. It was only with the realization that my band may have slipped -- hence, the limited intake -- that I was filled with regret. I learned via my beloved Google, that 5% of folks do have slippage that requires surgery. That was a good odd for me so my concern was minimum, but 5% concern was enough for me.

I soon learned from the radiologist that I did not have a slip but the shot glass of barium was slowly emptying from throat to stomach. I asked if that was bad. He responded not if Gabe and I wanted it that way. So now, I was left with the plan to see Gabe next week. Great. Gabe. He makes me feel sometimes like I'm in adequate. Not really, he just points out that I need to do more to make the band a success.

Ironically, I got to face my demon much sooner than a week. It was more like two minutes from getting dressed, there he was in his scrubs. You know...he's kind of cute. And this time he smiled at me. When I told him all went well and that I was just "tight", he said we'll figure it out next week.

So now I remembered. When you're too tight, you don't lose weight. You have limited appetite, you make poor choices for foods that go down easier (I-scream!) and reflux. That was me, me, me! Only six more days before we adjust this, I'm so glad to have the opportunity to get in gear again.

I've been stuck with food, stuck with ignorance, and stuck in a rut. Since this blog does mirror a caterpillar's metamorphosis, I'm going to allow me another shot of keeping that inner me from being stuck. C'mon girl...pull...out...of...your...cocoon! You can do it!

Fun - do!

You might notice a pattern with my life. About every six weeks or so, I need to escape to a night with my soul-sisters Kelly and Kerry. Yes, it was time. Time for another K3 night. Oh, what a night!

For this night out, we decided to once again try something new. For a while, we were content with our local Cafe Symposio. More recently, we've been branching out and enjoying the results. This time...the new adventure was The Melting Pot.

This neat fondue restaurant was worth every penny...many pennies at that. Everybody should treat themselves to this unique dining adventure. Limit the alcohol because you will need your wits about you or risk a bad case of food poisoning or perhaps the need for some bacitracin ointment.

We knew we had a late reservation, so we purposely arrived a bit early to enjoy a predinner cocktail. For a change, we went with cocktails over wine. I enjoyed a Caramel Apple Martini while the others sipped a rich beer and refreshing Mojito. We took the drinks into a cozy little lounge that we had to ourselves - fake fireplace and all. When we were called to our table, we came upon our marble top table with a flat glass top burner in the middle. That's right...we were cooking our own meals.

Our waiter Amitel was the most charming 24 year old who put up with the three cougars. He helped us through our night of wine, cheese, land (meat) & sea (fish) bites, and a rich dessert of chocolate and sweets.

Wow - I really rushed through the food portion of the night. The truth is that it was an experience that words can't really capture. Now as the want-to-be-writer that I am, that seems thoughtless (literally!) but it was simply put very cool. To help you visualize it, let me high light the night with various quotes:

"oh...I dropped my bread"
"no double dipping"
"...is two minutes up yet? Land is two minutes? Sea is one and a half?"
"I dropped my chicken"
"pass me the dark sauce"
"pass me the white sauce"
"which is two minutes?"
"now I dropped my potato"
"pass me the spicy sauce"
"I am so bringing Logan here."
"so much food!"
"which is two minutes?!?"

This 120 minute meal was worth the 12,000 pennies plus drinks.

Go enjoy a fun night of fondue with someone you love. If you want to go cheap, do only dessert...that was the best part of the night!

Squirrel Haven

I don't know how it started, but it's been building for a couple of years. I offer squirrels a safe haven and a solid meal every day. Let's go back to the beginning.

{{{flashback}}}

It was a cold snowy day, maybe in 2006, when I looked up from the kitchen table to see a squirrel lean down from the roof of the wooden shed and nudge his/her head in between the two shed doors and disappear. And then I saw a second and third squirrel do the same thing. It was then that I realized this family of three was finding shelter in the dryness of my shed. It warmed my heart.

Okay, a few months later when I went in the shed during spring, my heart wasn't as warmed when I saw all my Christmas lights' wires bitten, Logan's bike seat chewed, and a bag of earth for the pool all over the place. We cleaned it up and it was now ready for the next year’s winter. We had squirrel-proofed it for our little furry friends.

Shortly after, Logan looks out from the pool deck over to our neighbor Henry's house and sees a dog swimming in the pool cover's water. I realize it's a squirrel and rush over & get it out with a skimmer. It's only weeks later that I learned its other two family members did not make it out alive. They had been found in the bottom of Henry's pool. It broke my heart. I thought that was the end of this family.

Not the case - since then we'd have numerous families of three (always a trio) visiting us.

But as with every family, more tragedy takes place. Another winter passes, and again I go back to the shed in the spring. This time we find a dead squirrel in there. It must have been trapped. Now fast forward to last year when Mom was visiting. She told me while getting out some garden tools, she had discovered a dead squirrel's skeleton and got rid of it before Logan would see it. I wasn't as surprised as she had expected. I responded with "oh, good - somebody finally got it out of there."

Now back to present day. I started sharing some bruised apples bits with the squirrels and love watching them sit back on their tail and use their little fingers (not paws...truly look like fingers) to nibble their treats. I began throwing out left over sunflower seeds and eventually began buying them their own bag from Trader Joe's.

Each morning, I let the dog out. Once he comes back in, I slide open the sliding doors and toss out three handfuls of apples, nuts, and old bread (can't forget the birds.) I have now two families of squirrels - six of them scurrying for food.

One particular morning I noticed that one family was all damaged. My favorite is Scabby. He has two red welts on both shoulders. I think from squeezing in or out of somewhere. Then there's Scar. He has a huge bald patch on the shoulder & a scar across his neck in the back, and finally there is Hippy. Hippy has a hutch scar patch on his back hip. I remember turning to Logan and asking him "what?!? is this a rough gang of squirrels or a gang that just gets bullied on?" I like to think that they are just rough necks.

Sometimes during the day, I look out and see a lone squirrel or pair gazing in the direction of the door. One time, one brazen one sat on the barbeque grill and looked in the window as if beckoning me out. Shhh! He won...I threw out a handful of treats for him to enjoy.

I'm sad to say I haven't seen Scabby in a while and hope that I'm just missing him in the crowd of now five. There is one who may have faded scabs, but I just can't tell.

So as I end today's entry, I look over my laptop and see no sign of my pals. I know though, that they'll be back tomorrow and I'll be glued to the window for my morning sips of coffee, looking on and feeling good that I can offer them a safe place for at least part of their days. Ahhh, the freedom of a squirrel!