Days 29 - 31: Illness, Death and Surgery

Tuesday found me either in bed sound asleep or coughing till I threw up.  It's gotten to the point now that I feel things rumbling in my chest and throat with every single breath I take.  Coughing is frustrating to the point of tears because it accomlishes nothing.  It's as if my cough goes around the congestion, instead of going through it.

Whether from the coughing or unknowingly clenching due to stress, I am now experiencing a constant ache in my jaw joints near my ears.  The pain goes all the way up into my temples and down into my gums now.

My sinuses are joining the war, making it very difficult for me to breathe.  My energy level and appetite were both null and void - all I wanted to do was sleep.

Onto personal/social news, my older cousin lost his battle with cancer last week.  Sadly, I only recall meeting him once when I was a teenager.  At the time, he brought his wife and three girls down to visit.  However, due to our age difference and the sheer number of people in my family, I did not have the opportunity to get to know him very well at the time.  Therefore - as wrong as it may sound for me to say - I don't feel his loss directly, but I am incredibly sad for his wife and three daughters, his three sisters and the remainder of our extended family who were much closer to him.

The majority of our family was unable to fly up north for any funeral services, so we chose to have a wake for local family and friends to gather, remember and grieve.  I woke up in time to write a poem for the affair and get dressed, but did not think about the fact that I should prepare myself some snacks to take with me.

I had eaten a salad around 4 pm and still felt good around 6 pm, when the wake started.  Inside the kitchen, there was soda, garlic bread, spaghetti and lasagna.  However, it was easy enough for me to stay out of the kitchen and avoid that - even with all of the plates that were coming and going all around me.  There were bowls of chips set all over the house - but even that was not a huge draw for me.  The thing I struggled with was the countertop that seperated the kitchen from the dining room.

From the very beginning, there were two trays of decadent looking brownies that were singing to me.  I sat down on the floor - out of the view of all of the food - and tried to focus on conversation instead.

One of my cousin's pulled a chair over to talk to me for a while.  I easily got caught up in our conversation and my sweet tooth stopped nagging at me for a while.  Then, she reached for the countertop that was just behind me and I could hear the plastic case opening - I knew instantly she was getting a brownie.  She munched on it while telling me how proud she was of my weight loss and how inspiring my attempt to get healthy is.  I winced when a couple of crumbs fell on the floor beside me.

Now that the brownies were open, her daughter walked over and reached around us, getting a brownie for herself.  When her daughter couldn't finish the brownie, she handed it to her mom and asked her to finish it.  I joked that we should "all be so lucky".

Then, my mom asked me if I would mind opening up the other desserts.  I growled and joked about it, but stood up, entered the kitchen and retrieved the bag of goodies that was waiting to be opened.  Inside, I found chocolate chip cookies, chocolate cake and lemon cake.  On the counter was a batch of hot, fresh baked brownies also waiting to be put out.  WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH THESE PEOLE AND FREAKING BROWNIES?!

By now, my mind has started a familiar chant that I altogether loathed.  "Spaghetti.  Lasagna.  Chips.  Dip.  Brownies.  Cookies.  Cake.  WANT! Spaghetti.  Lasagna.  Chips.  Dip.  Brownies.  Cookies.  Cake.  WANT!"  Over and over and over again, the voice in my head grew louder until it was impossible for me to concentrate on anything else that was going on around me.

My sister-in-law, who is currently working with a personal trainer, reminded me that it was unhealthy to completely deny and deprive myself because I would be more likely to completely fall off the wagon later.  It's healthy to treat myself every once in a while, as long as I don't over do it, and allowing myself one little snack would probably appease my sweet tooth and stop the cravings.

I thought about it a moment longer - wanting to be strong - knowing from my friend's birthday that it IS possible for me to survive an entire gathering without breaking...but I caved.  I grabbed one single cookie and did my best to savor it - confident that the chanting and the craving would shut the hell up once the damn cookie was down.

But it didn't.  Instead, all I wanted to do was grab one of the large dinner plates and load it up with some of everything.

By now, everyone in the house knew about ChuChi and my 21 lb weight loss and my effort to eat better and exercise and lose weight and get healthy.  It had been probably one of the biggest conversations of my night.  So I focused on that, reminding myself that EVERYONE HERE was watching me...EVERYONE HERE would know if I slipped up, and then I'd have to go on Facebook and tell EVERYONE THERE that I screwed up, and I'd have to go on blogger and tell EVERYONE THERE that I was weak and had failed.

I started taking people's plates and trying to clean up or involved myself in large group conversations or just do SOMETHING to keep myself busy and my mind occupied, and it was physically paining me because I wanted to clean all of the damn food up and just put it away so that it wouldn't be there to tempt me anymore.

When my stomach began to noticably rumble, I knew that I wanted to be smart and logical.  If my body *really* was hungry, I wanted to feed it - but I wanted to do so responsibly.  So, I fixed myself a salad, proud of myself for having made the smartest choice available to me.  The salad tasted great and I was happy, but the chanting was getting worse again - this time, focused solely on the spaghetti and pasta.  It was a little after 9 pm when I wandered back into the kitchen and found that the lasagna was all gone.  I breathed a sigh of relief that the food was gone and I had no choice but to stay on track - but then I noticed that there was still spaghetti left.  So, I gave myself about a half-cup portion (it was seriously three healthy bites) and microwaved it before sitting down at the table to eat.

Just as I took my first bite, my sister-in-law came over and began teasing me about giving it and how terrible it is to eat so late at night and that it was one of the worst things I could have done - why hadn't I eaten earlier?  Etc.  She meant well and was only being silly with me, but the damage was done and I felt like shit.  I finished my two more bites of spaghetti and then began hating on myself.

After the gathering ended, my mom went with me to Urgent Care where I was diagnosed with Acute Bronchitis and Acute Sinusitis.  I was prescribed a nosespray and an antibiotic, in addition to more cough medicine (which I declined since I still have some at home).  I was told to rest - no exercise until the congestion had cleared up and the cough was gone.  This only made me feel worse because not only had I caved in dietary wise, but now I couldn't even exercise to make up for it and I had lost $5.00 for charity in the process.

My only saving grace for the night was that - when I plugged in my food for the day - I was still hundreds of calories under my goal for the day.  So, I allowed myself to feel frustrated and angry for the night, but vowed that I would forgive myself by the next day and start over again.

Wednesday morning found me once again in the hospital with my mother and father, once again preparing for my father's knee replacement surgery.  The doctor was exceptionally late, but I felt it was to be expected, given that he had rearranged his entire schedule to fit my father in.  In the meantime, my parents and I joked and laughed and amused the hospital staff - who had come to know us as the "silly, happy, laughing family."   *shrugs*  There are worse reputations for a family to have.

Sadly, the doctor arrived to find that my father had yet another skin infection in the area of the surgery.  Since this posts a possibility of infection during surgery, my father's surgery was once again cancelled and postponed for another time.  Since my father has developed a cough of his own, he half-expected the surgery to be cancelled again anyway, so it seemed a little easier for him to accept this time - although it was obvious that he was still dissapointed.

We returned home where I ate some lunch and then we all laid down (it had been a late night and a very early morning).  Just like Tuesday, once I got into bed, I almost didn't get out of it for the remainder of the day.  I ate lunch and dinner without even pausing to consider calories or fat and once again did not enter anything I ate until later tonight.   I'm just so tired and achy and frustrated that I simply couldn't find it in me to give a shit today.

However, it appears that I might be getting better at this healthy eating thing because - without even trying - I still came in nearly 1,000 calories below my goal for the day.  I've started taking the antibiotics and the nose-spray today and I'm praying that I start seeing results soon so that I can really get back on track.

For now - I feel like I've been out of bed for far too long and the blankets are singing to me...

Kisses and Squishes,
ChuChi