Microblog Mondays: Grief and more grief. When does it end?

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.
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Okay, okay, a day late and a dollar short. Sheesh. Shoot me.

 

We've been tied up with a number of things. Easter. An impromptu and definitely flying visit to The Big Apple with Petite to meet a gaming friend from Singapore. Visiting with friends from Toronto. Taking in a Sugar Bush meal (albeit somewhat restricted on my part). And the general rounds of sickness in the house. Ugh.

 

And deaths.

 

Again.

 

Note that I said "deaths" as in plural. Oh my.

 

 

Last week two people in my circles passed away.

 

I sing in a church choir. One of our choir member's wife was diagnosed months ago with an aggressive cancer. Treatments didn't keep it at bay and last week, the choir was told that she was rapidly declining... but that when the time came, they both wished the choir to sing at her funeral. She passed away on Monday, March 30. She was a lovely lady and very active in our church family. The service was held on Monday, April 6 and because Easter Monday is a holiday for me, I was able to attend and sing with the choir. It was a beautiful service and she would have really loved it. Rest in peace, Anne.

 

On Wednesday, April 1, I got a phone call from a former co-worker (a different location within our organization). I used to work with the group from 2010–13. She told me that one of the employees had committed suicide overnight onTuesday, March 31. I was in shock. This fellow was young (early 50s perhaps). Bright. Intelligent. Caring. A broad smile and a gentle nature, despite a physique that made him look like the roughest, toughest bouncer you could come across. He would sit in my office and chat about his cat (how he loved animals!) and his eyes would sparkle. He was a giving, sweet man, and I cannot fathom that he took his own life. The whole family in the branch he worked with is grieving; he was part of a small, skilled, elite team of counter intelligence and his presence will definitely be missed. We are all grieving. Today, April 7, I attend his funeral and I know many tears will be shed at this senseless loss. My heart goes out to his family and all his colleagues and friends. May he find the peace in death that he so sought in life. We love you Morgan. Good-bye dear friend.

Microblog Mondays: Growing Old(er)

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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This past weekend I was tied up with a number of rather 'domestic' things. Some baking. Some cooking. Lots of laundry (as usual). Some cleaning. Moving furniture. Disassembling and reassembling a table and a queen-sized bed. Some sewing. Some blogging (for a church initiative). Even writing and distributing a newsletter.

And as I'm doing all these things, I find the arthritis in my fingers acts up now and then. Or it's harder than it used to be to move the queen-sized mattress (yes, by myself... but just pulling it over the wood floor). And you know something? I needed my reading glasses to thread the needle for my sewing projects and to pick out the individual threads in the material. READING GLASSES people?!!! I'm not even 45 yet!

I realize I'm getting older and yet, I still think of myself as the insecure 16-year old who hides in the bathroom during lunch. I don't know if I've really "grown up" or if I'm just growing old.

Hubby and I have about 15-20 years to retirement. We are planning for that already. But I always wonder about how good my health will be when I get there. I had WLS last year to try to give me a leg up so my health is better into my old age.

But you just never know.

Case in point: a colleague/girlfriend. Two weeks before her retirement, she lost her brother suddenly. One week (to the day) after that, she had a heart attack. She survived (thank God!) but now realizes that she needs to take better care of herself to enjoy her retirement and to LIVE to be here for her family. Please heavens, I can do my utmost now to ensure my good health when I retire. Because I have plans and I have no intention of letting time or other factors take those plans away from me. (I know, I know. Wanna make God laugh? Tell him your plans for the future.)

Fingers crossed for these plans to come to fruition. Growing old(er) sucks. :(

Microblog Mondays: Internal Clocks

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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Mel wrote on the phenomenon of Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome and while I don't think for a moment that I'm quite that extreme, I am most certainly a night owl. I have been for years. I've often said that whatever man (and you know it was a man! Just like it was a man who invented pantyhose... stupid things!) determined that the 'workday' would be from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. should have been shot. Seriously.

I do not do well in the mornings. AT ALL. I am lethargic, in a foggy, sleep-induced haze without any capacity for rationale or functionality to any true extent. I so much prefer evenings or nights. My favourite working hours were when I worked a corner store in my late teens and early 20s; I started at 3 p.m. and finished at 11 p.m., winding down and heading to bed by 2 or 3 a.m. and waking at around 10 a.m. Fantastic! That rocked. HARD.

When I met Hubby, and started gaming, there'd be many nights I'd stay up until 2, 3 or 4 a.m. to finish something in my online game and then get up at 7 a.m. to go to work. I learned to function effectively on 5 hours of sleep. While I no longer game (as much) I still function on 5 or 5.5 hours of sleep per night during the week. I catch up a little (7 or 8 hours) on weekends but mostly, I do well with 5 hours. Though Hubby says I'm sleep-deprived and that it probably contributed to my significant weight problem as well. Heavens knows. Who can really say. But I do know that I am functional, creative, productive and alert in the evenings for the most part, when left to my own devices.

However, the conventions of the 'regular workday' and the fact that I now must adhere to a young child's schedule and needs have changed my own internal clock in recent years. Oh well. There'll be time to sleep in the future. For now, I am making the most of my time... whenever that happens to be!  

Microblog Mondays: Give or Receive?

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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Mel was discussing whether we truly prefer to give than to receive.

My answer? Hell yes. I LOVE to give. I give for the absolute sake of giving. Not ever expecting anything in return. Truthfully, if someone does offer something in return, I feel a sense of embarrassment. Isn't that weird? I have the distinct impression that I am not in the majority or the norm in this.

I love Christmas. I go overboard at Christmas, just because I love to give so very much. Even the neighbours get chocolates and Christmas cards and their kids get presents, even if it's something little. Just because. My coworkers all get cards, and sometimes a little chocolate. I keep extra boxes of candy canes and goodies to give out, just in case. I love, love, love to give.

I don't particularly like to receive, though I confess, there are one or two items this year I truly want to receive (heated blanket, fitbit, and some of my favourite moisturizer are really high on my 'want' list at the moment). Hubby says I need clothing more than those things. He may be right. I have very little in my closet.

Regardless of whether I receive, I just hope that what I do give is good enough. (Seems to be a recurrent theme in my life; "Is it / Am I good enough?"

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For those who may have wondered, I didn't win that little red dress. A shame too. So while out shopping yesterday, I actually took the time to peek around for a little red dress for myself. I found a gorgeous black skirt and a red dress, but I was too afraid to try them on. Shopping for clothing for myself is fraught with a whole boatload of negative emotions at the moment. Baby steps. Baby steps...

A difficult weekend in our house. More on that later as the family doesn't want to reveal details just yet. Suffice it to say, the hits keep on comin'. I am looking forward to getting away for Christmas and seeing my family. Bear with me if I miss a Monday. I'm semi-absent for a week or so. After all, it's Christmas. Merry Christmas all. For your viewing pleasure, Petite wishes you all a very Merry Christmas too!

With the Big Man in Red, Himself. (December 13, 2014)

Microblog Mondays; Favourite Colours

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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Yeah, yeah, I spell "colour" with a "u"... I'm Canadian. Deal. :)

I don't know that I have favourites, per se. I mean, being obese, I've dressed in black and dark colours for so long I don't know if I'd recognize colour if it smacked me in the face! Seriously.

I know that I have a love/hate relationship with reds. My face had a few red tones and I'm auburn-haired with loads of freckles... red is NOT a colour that looks good on me. But I love it in décor; it just POPS and makes you pay attention.

I tend to gravitate to blues and pinks if given the opportunity to choose clothing of colour. I'm fearful of bold colours because, like the red, it makes you pay attention. Attention is something I did not want as an obese female. God knows.

So imagine my surprise and intrigue when on a local Buy Nothing FB exchange site, I found myself throwing my name in the hat to receive a low-cut, sequinned, empire-waisted (size 10, no less!) red, knee-length dress for the Christmas season. I don't expect to get it of course, but wow, for once, I'd like to have something that looks good and gives me a bit of a boost.

Fingers crossed!

Now... I must go comment on some of your blogs. I've been slackin. Admittedly, with my MIL's passing, I've been quite busy this week. And yes, I really need to clean up the dead links in my sidebar! (So many bloggers have fallen off the face of the earth! Quite a shame really.)

Microblog Mondays: RIP to my MIL

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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A sad, and very difficult week in our house.

My MIL passed away last Monday afternoon, in the presence of her husband, her sister, one of her daughters, Hubby, and me.

She retired a few years ago, and had lost a significant amount of weight; I knew something was wrong but she was never fully tested. This past summer, they found a tumor and it was surgically removed, but no follow-up chemo or radiation was forthcoming. (We later found that it had been offered to her, but she turned it down. We question now whether she realized the ramifications of that particular decision. She was suffering from dementia on and off during this time because of the tumor.)

Post-op, she came home and was doing fairly well, but just before our Thanksgiving in early October, she took another turn for the worse and things went rapidly downhill from there. She was in the ICU and then transferred to a hospice. We did not expect her to live to see her 67th birthday on November 20. But she made it. She had asked Hubby for a piece of KFC and a Tim Horton's coffee a couple of days before her birthday and she enjoyed what she could eat of that... (translation: very little of either, but at least it was something).

On Monday past, November 24, 2014, my MIL's husband and a couple of the kids were to meet with the doctors at 3 p.m. to discuss her care and next steps. But that morning, Hubby's youngest sister called to verify that the meeting was still on and she was told, "Your mom's breathing has changed. Someone might want to get here sooner than 3 p.m." Hubby called me around 11:45. As soon as he told me that, I knew. You see, I've been down this road before. I knew exactly what the nurses were telling the family.

I told Hubby, "Hang up the phone. March straight to your boss' office and tell him it's an emergency. You need to leave RIGHT NOW. I will meet you there. Go." I did that as well, and I met him just before 1 p.m. at the doors to the hospice. We had barely over an hour with her; she took her last breath at 2:19 p.m. and amid tears, grief, love and pain, we said our goodbyes. Hubby and I left soon thereafter to get his youngest sister at home, and I stayed with the three young children so that his sis could go to the hospice with him. I called the funeral home and started the ball rolling from the home base. And it's been a whirlwind of a week since.

RIP Nicole. You are loved more than you can know and you will truly, truly be missed.

Our huge thanks to our friends and family who came to the celebration of her life this past Saturday; even our dear friends from Toronto (Pam and V) made the trek and we are ever so grateful. Seeing so many people there to pay their respects made it a little easier to say goodbye.

P.S. Thank you all for your sweet comments, e-mails, and thoughts on my last post about the weight loss and the negative comment I had received. You are all so very kind and I am grateful for your understanding and for your outpouring of love. (What a wonderful virtual world this is.)

Microblog Mondays: "Be Careful of your Face"

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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Before I had weight loss surgery (WLS), I had heard so very frequently the same old line that I grew to hate more than the extra weight itself, "Gil, you have such a pretty face. If only you weren't so fat." Yes indeed, people had the gall to say that to me, in person. I mean seriously, how does one respond to that sort of insensitivity? Sheesh.

Now that I have had WLS, the weight is shedding quickly and I am being very diligent about following my surgeon's guidelines regarding my water intake, protein consumption, required vitamins/minerals, and portion control. It all works well together and to date, I'm more than 115 lbs down. But I'm technically still obese. At least for another pound or two. Then, with a little luck I'll be in the "overweight" category for another 30 lbs. Rest assured, my surgeon's office is following me closely, including watching my blood work.

This week, I got lucky and won tickets to my university's alumni association dinner (a value of $300) that was held downtown at the beautiful Château. A famous Canadian musician was the keynote speaker and I've been a fan of his and his band's music for nigh on 20 years now. It was an excellent opportunity to meet him in person. Hubby snagged this shot.

I posted the pic on Facebook, and got many comments on how great I look; almost everyone completely ignored the fact that I am standing next to Alan Doyle! I couldn't believe it!

Anyway, I have a girlfriend who is also a fan, and I e-mailed that photo to her as she is not on Facebook. She opened the e-mail while I was on the phone with her. And her first comment to me was, "Oh Gil, be careful of your face." She went on to say that in her view, I had lost more than enough weight. She repeated that line no less than FOUR times during our convo. "Gil, be careful of your face."

I reiterated that my surgeon is following me closely. "Be careful of your face." I told her that skin takes an average of two years to come back into place (assuming it will; for some people it does not) and that I just have to bide my time. "Be careful of your face." I told her that I am technically still obese. "Be careful of your face."

Seems no matter what I do, I cannot win. I guess my face/neck is on the losing end of this battle. Whether I am fat or thin.

And as frequently happens, that one negative comment overshadowed all the other positive ones by at least a million times to one.
*cue the tears*

So much for the 'microblog'... Sorry.

Microblog Mondays

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens (and why does some part of me still want to call her blog by its previous moniker, "Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters"?) has begun a blog phenomenon as she frequently does.

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

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Cold. Brr. I am freezing post-op. I cannot get warm enough. Most evenings find me cozied up with Petite in her bed, snuggling for warmth as she still enjoys it when Mommy or Daddy lies down with her to cap off her day. She falls asleep pretty easily that way.

I usually manage to get up and get to my own bed in due course. But I was so chilled last night, I simply did NOT want to get out from under her blankets.

I go to bed and this is what I use to try to keep warm:

• fleece jammies (Mom just had a gorgeous new set from LL Bean sent to me! Thanks Mom!)
• a heating pad at my feet
• a Magic Bag (or two) heated in the microwave. One goes across my torso, the other near my upper arms as they get cold very fast.
• a heavy feather duvet
• I did have two extra blankets on my side of the bed, but now that the duvet and the duvet cover is on, those make it super heavy!
• and last night, I added a pair of fuzzy socks. That helped.

I am looking into investing in a soft, twin heated blanket for the winter. Apparently the first winter or two post-op is brutal until your body gets used to things again. If you have other suggestions, I'm open to hearing about them! Brrrr!!! And we've barely got snow! This is just gonna be no fun at all come January and February when we experience -30 and -40 degrees!!!! I'm gonna be an icicle!