Master of Cleanse

Well, as per my plan, since accidentally starting a cleanse yesterday, I did my first day of Master Cleanse. Though I'm calling it day 2. Because of yesterday. Do the math. My brain is fuzzy.

I bought this Vibrant Cleanse a couple of weeks back, because, dang. I don't have time for all day lemon squeezing and measuring syrup (and, knowing me, putting in too much because it's so yummy!). So far today, I drank some laxative tea after my morning swill (that saltwater thing? I tried a couple of months ago on an empty stomach and literally walked around like a water balloon for a few days.) My morning swill: fresh lemon (see?), cayenne, apple cider vinegar, and fresh ginger. Dump in nutribullet with super clean Berkey water and voila. Instant gag reflex! Not really. I actually kind of like it. In a sadistic way.  Anyway, I also had maybe 3 glasses of home-brew kombucha. Through the day I eyeballed my safety cup of coffee in a thermos, but never touched it. I did have some herbal tea, water, and 3 glasses of the VC. I actually felt a bit tipsy, but good. Went to the gym for VERY light cardio on the recumbent bike for a bit under an hour.

So, this is day 2 of my cleanse. I figure, if I can get through tomorrow, that is magic. If I can handle Wednesday? Wow. But Thursday is an out of town gig, and the last thing I need is to be woozy in my stage heels with the bright lights and the massive amounts of oxygen being thrown in and out of my body. So... 2, 3, or 4 days. All together? I'm super pleased. I have been gaining a bit (or at least not losing, due to my thyroid issues), and even if I don't lose (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE let me lose!), at least I feel cleaner.

I woke up 1 lb lighter. That's something. I know, I'm small. You'd think I would have woken up 2 or 3. Whatever. It's really about the reset button. I've done 10 day cleanses with fresh veg and fruit juices before, and always felt magical at the end. So, I know this is about my own health, but heck if I won't jump up and down if I drop my few lbs. that I can't seem to shake. Honestly, I'm just 5 from my "usual" weight, 8 from my "yippee" weight. So, let's just see. I can always start up again after the gig. And, what if I just do it one or two days a week for a while? As a former personal trainer, I used to do a once a week reset day, where I would do the opposite, but I was in my 20's and early 30's. I worked out 5 hours a day. I ate 6 small meals a day. I was a TANK.

Now, I'm in my 40's. I am dancing with cancer. I am poisoned and burned and tired of it. I'm stressed. I work out a few times a week if I'm lucky (though, I'm still a badass in the gym, if I do say so myself!). I'm a mom and a wife. So, there's a lot more going on. But, I'm alive! So, let's throw lemons in the air like we really care!

Sigh. Time to crawl into bed soon, cuddle with the kitties and fall asleep to a movie. Last night I started a PBS special on Prohibition. Totally fascinating. Though, it did make me wish I could have a sip of something. Mmmm. Lemon/cayenne/syrup...

That was Fast!

Apparently, I'm almost fasting today.  I didn't mean to, and ok, I had 2 cups of coffee, 2 glasses of home brew kombucha, a cup of golden milk, a few glasses of water, and now some herbal tea. I have been on the verge of a cold and keep fighting it, so perhaps my body is telling me to do this today.

Plus, we had a party yesterday, and naturally, I ate.

This is normal, right? Eating? And, we didn't have much naughty food. I was very good. Probably ate fewer calories than the average American at this thing.

But, I had my thyroid levels checked at my post-op appointment because it's been such a hard road, this weighting game.  And, in fact, I was right as usual - at least when it comes to my health.

My T4 levels are low. Not terribly, but I have no baseline, so I assume they were on the higher side of normal. So, yes, my thyroid is messed up. From radiation? From tamoxifen? From stress? What???

Yeah. I'm small. I work out a lot, and I eat really clean. But the second I eat more than 800 calories, and many times 600, I gain. And yes, I was a personal trainer for many years. I understand the calorie game. They are all quality calories, and since I don't count the coconut oil in my coffee, or the home brew kombucha with chia seeds I consume daily, it's probably 200 on top of whatever I record in my log. And then, factor in the exercise calories.

So, I have an appointment to meet a new GP (my old one moved to Ohio or some crap - I mean, seriously???) But this one comes from my great new OB/GYN, and she has gotten to know me very quickly, and intimately, as they all do. So I have faith that I will like this doc as well.

So, here I am. Fasting involuntarily. But I have BIG PLANS to go to bed early tonight and perhaps squash this looming not-a-cold-but-could-be-easily-if-I-keep-up-and-not-sleeping game. So now that it's nearly 5pm, I've worked out, done all my stuff, am now practicing a bit so I don't go off the musical rails before my hit Thursday.... I am planning on a cozy movie in bed with the kitties before I abruptly kick them out so they're not pouncing on me all night, and get some sleep.

Fasting works well for my weight now. It was never a thing that I did. I'm slowly learning to embrace not feeling full. I grew up super poor, so there was always slight panic in my brain. Leave no morsel of food uneaten, eat when not hungry, because you're not sure when the next meal will present itself, etc. It makes for a messed up mindset, but finally, I'm getting the hang of the fact that I will not, in fact, starve to death.

Looking forward to my millions of doc appointments coming up (not!). Mammo up ahead as well. I'm so behind on my dental, but I just get tired. Tired of seeing someone and having them do stuff that isn't fun.

Invasion of the uterine snatchers

Well, it's now 3 weeks past surgery. At the 2 week mark, I was on a plane to do gigs in both Florida and LA. It was busy, I wasn't 100%, but sometimes it's just

So I did. In a big way. Epic trip, saw friends, played for amazing crowds. Spotting but nothing bad. What I had expected, more or less.

However, my actual period started at some point - maybe Monday or so - it was hard to tell since I had been spotting. But a couple of days ago, and since then, I've been starring in my very own slasher film.  I mean, it should not be possible for me to still be alive. Yet, here I am. I've been lightheaded, weak etc. But I crumbled and popped an iron pill before a 30 minute nap this afternoon and am feeling a bit better. Had a steak last night, and my leftover shreds on a salad tonight. 

I've consulted Dr. Google, and it seems all is in order. In fact, I should be doing this. I'm definitely going to have to take it easy. The worst thing is that most complain that sometimes it goes on for 2 weeks or longer. Are you kidding me? Do I need a transfusion? 

It hasn't been painful, or not more than usual. But it has been annoying. Naturally, I can't use a tampon or diva cup, and usually I just double up with a pad and one or the other (diva if I can, since it's eco friendly and safer for me!)  But now, I find that with every breath, I am worried that I've overstepped my wings. So far, nothing too tragic, but wow. Glad those nifty Seventh Generation long pads with wings are doing the trick. Because my vajayjay doesn't need bleach or chemicals, ever. But, it does need a LOT of absorbency these days. 

I'm paranoid that a pack of wild animals will start chasing me down the street - FRESH MEAT!!!  Ah, the overactive imagination of an artist. 

So, we'll see how this goes. 

How do you want to be remembered? Death Nesting.

It's interesting. I've been preparing for death since my diagnosis. Will in order (though it could be updated, it's ok as is). Got hubby on the apartment paperwork so there would be no question that he is an owner (I can't imagine dropping dead and the co-op kicking him out, but anything is possible in this crazy world!) Condensing accounts (one more to go, from 10 years ago - just need the transfer info, and that's on my mind hard core! But, if I were to disappear tonight, it would still be in my name and eventually go to him. But I'm all for simplicity and clean lines). SO much more stuff to get rid of in the house, or organize. Time leads to the accumulation of stuff. I've been trying to pare down so that my family doesn't have a lot of stuff to pick through or feel guilty about trashing or donating. There's really nobody to fight over my stuff, since I've basically no family. But still, I'd like for it to be as painless to eventually clear me out. I know that's a really hard thing for folks to deal with, and I don't want that for anyone, as a result of my passing.

It seems that daily, I'm less and less afraid of dying. Not because I'm better, but because, there's nothing to fear. It happens. I think it's probably a lot easier to die than to be left behind (case in point - me as a teen when my mom died). I still have a hard time. I still wake up, 25 years later, wanting to call her and check in. I first told my mom that I loved her when I was about 15 or 16. Why? I am most likely autistic. Those who know me now at this age would heartily disagree, until they heard my childhood stories, up until my mid 20's, really. I still have many signs that I have learned to curb myself. There was no help for people like me. My brother was worse. The docs said he had "tics". My father... definitely aspergers. Certainly a lot of our problems as regards our relationship - we basically never had one. I tried to make things better when I realized what might be going on. I was in my 20s, and then in my 30s. He denied everything. It must all be in my mind. So, I shut him out of my mind and life. I can't fix everything or everyone, but I am in control of my life and happiness.

 I loved my mom but felt guilt about that, since I loathed the man she married. It turns out that she wasn't too fond of him, but that's a long story. So my guilt was unwarranted, of course, but I still felt it. And when I had my daughter, I promised myself that she would hear and feel how much I love her. Because I do. My mom loved me and showed me, sometimes told me, in her own ways. But it was mostly unspoken, and difficult to hear through the disease and hatred in our "home" which was really a hoarding disaster supported by chronic unemployment.

Being a parent is so difficult as you chat with the Angel of Death. Actually, Angel is a very nice being. When it's time, it's time. Nobody is invincible. If you're not afraid of leaving, it's probably a good experience. I often wonder how folks feel as they die. The light? Is it there? Do they really see relatives who have passed on? Will I see my mom? Her sister (who died in her 20's, also from cancer)? Her parents? My grandma on my father's side, who I absolutely loved and was not invited to the funeral (courtesy of my father). In fact, when my mom passed, her will was "lost". Her platinum wedding rings were "lost", the only thing I ever really wanted of hers. I used to wear it as a kid when it was sitting in her ring holder. She used to laugh and say I always have expensive taste (I liked lobster, platinum rings... and here I was, the kid who wondered if we'd have food around for dinner). A lot was lost. More than he bargained for. Because that was my final (but long) straw. I was encouraged by ex's past to keep my relatives in my life. Blood is thicker than... I think NOT. You lose my right to keep my mother's belongings that she wanted me to have, and destroy her will? You sell her wedding rings that were to be mine? Yeah.

I wonder if my mom will meet him at the bright light when he crosses over. I don't know. Maybe there is a universal forgiveness on the other side. I wouldn't be shocked, because it seems right. But, how far does it go? Are murderers forgiven by their victims? Are rapists? I mean, how far does the forgiveness roll?

I have had to forgive a lot of people in my past. That means that I've been pretty tortured along the way, I guess. Today, I received an email from an ex. Ok, I was the ass. I "dated" him because he was so inaccessible by living 3 hours away, but gave me the opportunity to not only receive gifts in the mail (which sustained our relationship, sadly), but also labeled me as "Unavailable". It worked. Until he told me he was looking into schools where he lives... for my daughter. No thanks.

So, I got this email today. He's going to be at an event that I will be performing at. And why exactly is he telling me this? This also happened a year ago. In all honesty, seeing his bloated face full of anguish (perhaps his marriage is on the rocks, and I would guess so, according to the few late night emails from him once I left him, and during his marriage - which happened a month after my breaking up!) , it was non-eventful, other than the pity I felt for him, and the shame for using a person to be unavailable to others. Why couldn't I say that I was just not interested, and happily single? Every time I was single, I was hit by an onslaught of suitors or friends of guys who would be perfect for me. PERFECT, I tell you.  No thanks.

Why should someone send me an email? Is it a hopeful, narcissistic hook, trying to bait me into some torrid affair? I probably should have told him the truth, that I never liked him. But, that would be meaner than the act itself. But, in hindsight, perhaps it would have been best.

I actually did that once. Knew a guy for YEARS. Very handsome, in the same field, lost touch for years. Got back in touch, ironically, when both were single. Decided to give it a go. WORST idea. It was awful. And I kept hearing from him. Didn't want to be mean. But finally, I had to. Enough was enough. I basically told him that he had a better time than I did, evidently.

Was that mean? Maybe. But it was the truth. And I never heard from him again. Ok, a few times years later. But, at least he was able to move on, as embarrassed and angry as he probably was. I always wished him happiness and kind of wish we had just remained friends.

Sigh.

Love, or at least the appearance of love, is so complicated. We feel bad for single people. Why?

Yes. I'm in a good place now. But I'm also on my way out. That Angel of Death keeps peeking, texts me, checks in on me in my dreams. He's waiting to hang hard core. And I'm not afraid. Because, for all of my many faults, for all of my mistakes and bad decisions, I haven't been such an awful person to the core.

What happens to those who have been awful? Are they burning in the fiery pits of Hell? Do they hear a Verse on a given song over and over, without a chorus, or even some sort of drum break or interlude? Now, that would be hell. No thanks.

So, back to work I go. On the road early tomorrow and I really don't want to go, but I must. I need the money. Cancer has really taken a huge chunk of cash-flow, not to mention the expense of being my own holistic oncologist. I also want to save for when I am gone. I want my family to have something to survive on. That bathroom ain't gonna redo itself, and I set a high bar when I buy only organic foods.

Is it wrong that I hope that my husband finds a good partner when I'm gone? Should I want him to mourn my loss? I guess so. But I know him, and he will sink in it. He's super hot and smart and amazing. He needs to keep his good energy out there. I think a good partner will help him. He's a lot to handle, but worth it.

Why all of this thought about death? Because it can hit anyone at any time. People are in denial. People think they can do stuff in 10 years. They can finally clean out that closet, or write that will, or whatever. Nope. Tomorrow may be the end. And it's ok. But I'm trying to not leave my family in chaos amongst the chaos. It's somehow sobering and calming to know. I don't want to be walking toward my mom in the light only to realize that I forgot to pay some bill, or I left the cat box unscooped, or I forgot to tell my family that I loved them.

So, what exactly IS wrong?

Yesterday I burned approximately 150 calories MORE than I consumed. It was a good workout day, a good food day, yet I woke up almost 2 pounds heavier.

Sometimes I think I should just give up and move to the midwest and buy doritos by the case.

But, seriously, what is it? Is my thyroid literally toast from the radiation? Or the shutdown of my estrogen will never start back up quite the same?

What is it? And why am I not eating an entire

carrot cake nightly?

And why do I work out anymore?

I know I'm trying to do all of the right things. Correction. I am doing the right things. My body just isn't responding.

Is it stress?

So, if I'm stressing and my thyroid is screwed, I guess that could explain this. Lunch today was some turkey/cabbage soup and salad. If I gave it a high caloric count, it would clock in around 500 or maybe 600. And that's definitely more than it is.

I burned about the same at the gym.

We'll see what tomorrow brings. I do realize I'm also in PMS week - but this is just ludicrous. I have 2 big gigs this coming weekend and can not be the fat girl on stage.

I know. Shut up. I'm a size 2, maybe a 3 soon. But - I'd be ok with that if I WERE eating a carrot cake for dinner every night. I'm eating super clean and light and working out. That's what's scary. When I look at my calculations over the past few months, I should have lost 30 pounds, not gained 10. And I don't mind being thought superficial - but the truth is - I'm petrified that something is utterly wrong that we don't know about. So tempting to get

wings for dinner. So. Tempting.