Today I left work and did my usual traipse down Hollywood Boulevard to the Metro train station at Highland. I had my iPod with me, and I was so glad to be out of the office and going home that when I got to the platform, I cranked the volume and did a little Raqs Sharqi---that’s bellydance--- to a little something called Würm (no, Yesfans, not the studio version. I was heretical and danced to one of the finest interpretations ever: Edmonton, 1984). For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, the old rock group Yes wrote a song called “Starship Trooper”. The third part of this piece is called “Würm”, and it was originally part of another song that the group’s guitarist brought to Yes. It has three chords---G, Eb, C---and they go spiraling up and up for three minutes or so, over and over, till they crash into a cool little climactic guitar solo that pans back and forth between yer ears.
Did people stare at me? Yeah. Was my avoirdupois flying around? Oh, hell, yeah. Did I give much of a rat’s? Nope. Why? Because I was dancing again. I hadn’t done it in years, and it felt great. Sit down, kiddies, and I’ll tell you a story.
When I was a little kid, I was frail and sickly. I had anemia and had to have blood tests two to three times a week. I missed a lot of school from kindergarten to about third grade, but when I hit eleven years old my health improved and I decided to get active. I took platform and high-diving lessons, swimming lessons, and I also studied ballet. I loved doing all these things, and it was a pleasure to learn new skills and to feel my body grow stronger. I also studied belly dance on the side because it “opened” my pelvis, which subtly aided my ballet technique in turning and leaping.
Due to some sudden changes in my life, I stopped doing all these things when I was nineteen. I went through the next decade without much physical activity, but in my thirties I returned to my Raqs Sharqi studies with the same enjoyment I experienced the first time I learned how to do hip circles. I chose a dance name: Shaheen [Falconess], and decided to extend my practice with some props. These were a matching pair of steel scimitars which a Western Massachusetts blacksmith forged for me. I danced with them in all sorts of ways; balanced on my head, shoulders, hips, back, and stomach (I used to flip them from dull inner edge to sharp outer edge on my stomach, which was both great fun and stupidly dangerous).
More life changes…I moved to California and married my husband, and stopped dancing. We tried to make babies. This didn’t work. And then in late 2005, my body just collapsed. I woke up one morning and could not get out of bed. Everything hurt, and hurt on the screaming level. Eventually I crawled—and I mean crawled—to the bathroom to pee, crawled back to my bed, fell asleep again, and slept for forty-eight hours. Figuring something was not just wrong but totally fucked up, I went to my doctor, who sent me to specialists, who did a whole bunch of tests and said ChronicFatigueFibromyalgiaEpstein-BarrPsoriaticArthritisProbableLungCancer...
...AndYouBetterStopSmokingImmediately...
...ButIt’sProbablyTooLateAtThisPointAnyway.
Fuck.
Additional tests proved that I didn’t have lung cancer after all, but when the docs said That Word, I immediately put the cigarettes down and I haven’t smoked since. I may play with sharp things too much for my own good, but I’m not totally stupid. Why screw around?
Anyway, I was so smacked down by these conditions that I needed to use a walker, which wasn’t so bad because it was a bitchin’ candy-apple red and had hand brakes, a basket for my stuff, plus a built-in seat so I could rest if I got really exhausted. However, a few months later I went on disability because I just couldn’t physically make it to work and back. This was completely frustrating, as being at home all day made me stir-crazy. I also had my own ideas about treatment, and I didn’t want to take the drugs my doctor wanted to prescribe; most of my visits were spent in arguments with him over medications with really scary side effects.
One of my dearest friends (to whom I owe so much) sent me vast amounts of heavy-duty glucosamine/chondroitin to help me with the psoriatic arthritis; I took megadoses of this supplement daily. I also did a lot of research on fibromyalgia and practiced nutritional healing with garlic, oregano oil, CoQ10 and lysine. At this time I started to practice zazen; I wasn’t able to sit in full lotus position or even half-lotus, but I could sit in a chair and count my breaths. Slowly, and with much patience, I began to walk again; I had a few setbacks, but I could finally get about slowly and go back to work after a year.
Since then I haven’t felt nearly as bad, even with the relatively recent diabetes diagnosis…but I haven’t felt as well as I did last Friday night, when I got on a treadmill for the first time in two years and, during a slow walk, decided to run for about a minute. Yes, run. I cranked that basstich up to 6 MPH and almost flew. Sure, it was only for a minute, but damn if I didn’t do it. I can’t even remember the last time I did.
So, remembering how good that little run felt inspired me to shake my thang all over the subway platform while waiting for the 4:17 to roll in. As I danced, I watched people laugh, I saw some who were unnerved, and some others were clapping in rhythm to my steps. And it didn’t matter if anyone thought I was an idiot, or if they approved of what I was doing. I suddenly just saw a human family---my human family.
The Buddhist term sangha means “community”, and, as a rule, refers to the Buddhist community as a whole…or it can also mean any group of beings who are at a level of greater realization than are others. I think sangha is more than that. Those people on the platform---I don’t know if they were Buddhist or not. I don’t know if they were Republicans, I don’t know if they molest chickens for fun and profit, or if they’ve found the meaning of existence. And it doesn’t matter. They—we—all of us—are sangha. There’s no special membership, no exclusivity.
(Yeah, dogs and cats and iguanas and molested chickens and trees and everything in the universe, either “good” or “bad” are included.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
I'VE COME BACK...
Well. It’s been---what? Five months since I’ve submitted an entry? And here I am, slinking back to my blog like an errant schoolgirl. Bad, bad Tasia.
I have been unable (unwilling?) to get past some stuff that’s gone on in my life since March. But now, like the little “dead” guy on the cart in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I feel fine, and I want to go for a walk. Well, mostly.
Here’s what went on:
1.) I found a website that was all about East New York in Brooklyn, where I grew up. The site was created by the nephew of a woman who was one of my father’s tenants; she lived above us in the duplex in which I spent my first three years. The site actually showed the house to which my family and I next moved, and pictures of its history over the years from the early part of the 20th century until today. And my father’s name was also mentioned in the information that accompanied the pictures. This was a kind of setback for me, as seeing all of this opened up a Pandora’s Box of memories which have been difficult for me to handle: things with which I’d not yet come to terms from my past, which involved the physical and mental abuse I received from my mother on a daily basis.
2.) I got pregnant. I could hardly believe that it happened, and after years and years of miscarriages, too. This was not something that my husband Matt or I wanted, and we knew how it would end up, anyway. Sure enough, six weeks in---miscarriage.
3.) My cousin Alicia died; she was 50 years old. She was my father’s sister’s daughter, and a professor in Merida, Mexico. Apparently she went out for a meal, ate something that caused some sort of allergic reaction, and just-----died. Bam.
4.) Matt’s father John was diagnosed with emphysema. Yes, he has since quit smoking.
5.) Matt was diagnosed with pre-diabetes. According to his physician, it’s not inevitable that Matt will be diagnosed with full-on Type II diabetes if he immediately improves his diet and loses weight; in other words, he should act as if he already has the disease. I am glad that he does not have to take any meds at this time!
It’s been difficult for me to deal with a lot of this, but I am doing it, just as for months I sat around and said, “I gotta get back to my blog”, and one great friend told me, “Yes, you must,” and gave me all sorts of sound reasons to do so. Sometimes it’s difficult to realize that loved ones can help when you’re in a bad way, and that you don’t have to cope alone. True, no one can do things for you, but inspiriting words from friends can soften one’s situation.
I am proud to say that Matt is taking better care of his health now than he ever had. He diligently reads labels and is eating more simply, and understands more about simple carbohydrates and how they affect his blood sugar levels.
Two weeks ago or so I decided to become a vegan. Here are some links that discuss the benefits of a vegan diet for diabetics:
http://www.pcrm.org/health/clinres/diabetes.html
http://diabetes.webmd.com/news/20081001/vegan-diet-good-type-2-diabetes?src=RSS_PUBLIC
(Please cut and paste; the "insert link" tool on Blogger isn't working. Sorry!)
I was very excited to learn about this, and I have been easing Matt into eating this way little by little. Due to my past years of being a vegetarian/vegan chef, I’m already familiar with vegan replacements for basic ingredients like cheese, cream, milk, and eggs, and there are so many substitutes for meats, poultry, and fish out there. ..and not just the tried and true tofu, either! I recently purchased some gorgeous vegan “shrimp”; I had tried them about ten years ago and found them delicious. I plan to marinate them in lime juice, cilantro, olive oil and fresh garlic, and to serve them with zucchini, chives, and roasted red peppers over brown rice. Yum.
Of course, with the choice of going vegan comes the inevitable political ramifications of doing so. I am all for animal rights and for eating cruelty-free and for buying cruelty-free products to use in my home…but I will not stop taking my medications because they have been tested on animals, nor will I donate any animal product clothes I currently have to charity. I am not in the financial position to give things away to replace them with others: to do so would not be sensible. When my Uggs and my wool cape are destroyed from use, then I will purchase cruelty-free replacements for them. Some will say that this does not make me a “true vegan”, and that’s OK. I can’t afford to be impractical in a lousy US economy and while living in California when I can barely afford to shell out the copays for my meds. Lawsy!
I have been unable (unwilling?) to get past some stuff that’s gone on in my life since March. But now, like the little “dead” guy on the cart in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I feel fine, and I want to go for a walk. Well, mostly.
Here’s what went on:
1.) I found a website that was all about East New York in Brooklyn, where I grew up. The site was created by the nephew of a woman who was one of my father’s tenants; she lived above us in the duplex in which I spent my first three years. The site actually showed the house to which my family and I next moved, and pictures of its history over the years from the early part of the 20th century until today. And my father’s name was also mentioned in the information that accompanied the pictures. This was a kind of setback for me, as seeing all of this opened up a Pandora’s Box of memories which have been difficult for me to handle: things with which I’d not yet come to terms from my past, which involved the physical and mental abuse I received from my mother on a daily basis.
2.) I got pregnant. I could hardly believe that it happened, and after years and years of miscarriages, too. This was not something that my husband Matt or I wanted, and we knew how it would end up, anyway. Sure enough, six weeks in---miscarriage.
3.) My cousin Alicia died; she was 50 years old. She was my father’s sister’s daughter, and a professor in Merida, Mexico. Apparently she went out for a meal, ate something that caused some sort of allergic reaction, and just-----died. Bam.
4.) Matt’s father John was diagnosed with emphysema. Yes, he has since quit smoking.
5.) Matt was diagnosed with pre-diabetes. According to his physician, it’s not inevitable that Matt will be diagnosed with full-on Type II diabetes if he immediately improves his diet and loses weight; in other words, he should act as if he already has the disease. I am glad that he does not have to take any meds at this time!
It’s been difficult for me to deal with a lot of this, but I am doing it, just as for months I sat around and said, “I gotta get back to my blog”, and one great friend told me, “Yes, you must,” and gave me all sorts of sound reasons to do so. Sometimes it’s difficult to realize that loved ones can help when you’re in a bad way, and that you don’t have to cope alone. True, no one can do things for you, but inspiriting words from friends can soften one’s situation.
I am proud to say that Matt is taking better care of his health now than he ever had. He diligently reads labels and is eating more simply, and understands more about simple carbohydrates and how they affect his blood sugar levels.
Two weeks ago or so I decided to become a vegan. Here are some links that discuss the benefits of a vegan diet for diabetics:
http://www.pcrm.org/health/clinres/diabetes.html
http://diabetes.webmd.com/news/20081001/vegan-diet-good-type-2-diabetes?src=RSS_PUBLIC
(Please cut and paste; the "insert link" tool on Blogger isn't working. Sorry!)
I was very excited to learn about this, and I have been easing Matt into eating this way little by little. Due to my past years of being a vegetarian/vegan chef, I’m already familiar with vegan replacements for basic ingredients like cheese, cream, milk, and eggs, and there are so many substitutes for meats, poultry, and fish out there. ..and not just the tried and true tofu, either! I recently purchased some gorgeous vegan “shrimp”; I had tried them about ten years ago and found them delicious. I plan to marinate them in lime juice, cilantro, olive oil and fresh garlic, and to serve them with zucchini, chives, and roasted red peppers over brown rice. Yum.
Of course, with the choice of going vegan comes the inevitable political ramifications of doing so. I am all for animal rights and for eating cruelty-free and for buying cruelty-free products to use in my home…but I will not stop taking my medications because they have been tested on animals, nor will I donate any animal product clothes I currently have to charity. I am not in the financial position to give things away to replace them with others: to do so would not be sensible. When my Uggs and my wool cape are destroyed from use, then I will purchase cruelty-free replacements for them. Some will say that this does not make me a “true vegan”, and that’s OK. I can’t afford to be impractical in a lousy US economy and while living in California when I can barely afford to shell out the copays for my meds. Lawsy!
Monday, March 2, 2009
TASIA MacARTHUR: I HAVE RETURNED.
Okay, okay. So it's not as dramatic as that, but I'm back...and I'm glad I am. I have a new laptop, bought at a price that almost made me cry with joy. Dmitry kindly found me this cheap Toshiba on NewEgg, and it was so unbelievably inexpensive that I was actually able to pay cash for it. Amazing! I just loaded Firefox and Thunderbird on it, and all is froody. Go Mozilla!
I hope everyone has been well, and that February treated you kindly. I had a pretty eventful and fun month. Before I get to that, how do you like the new banner and logo? Aren't they the dog's bollocks?
My friend Bill designed the banner. Bill is a multitalented man; he's a great graphic artist, but he's also a sa-moooooooookin' guitarist. He's got an exquisitely developed feel for music, a tone that few musicians possess, and chops out the yin-yang. He also loves cats and has a great sense of humor, so I'm a sucker for him. He's been an online buddy for three years; we have not actually met, but I hope that will change soon.
Here's a shot of Bill at a Yesfans gathering (a gathering of fans of the music of Yes, that is!) in Boston a couple of years ago:
My friend Jen designed the logo. She's another one of my massively talented friends...she's done caricatures and cartoons of Yes and Rush that have made me laugh until I'm in agony. We share the same sarky wit, except she's even more brilliant at it than I am. Here's an example, taken from a conversation we had in Borders yesterday morning:
Jen: T, check this out: The New York Times reported that the Catholic Church has brought back indulgences! Can you believe that?
Me: What?! I wonder what the Vatican's said about it. You think there's anything posted on the Holy See's website?
Jen: (without missing a beat) Yeah. A Paypal button.
I roared laughing. I'm still roaring laughing over it, even though I later learned that the Church meant plenary indulgences, which aren't sold. So what? It's a phenomenally beautiful bit of wit. I love dat goil. You can see more of her artwork at DeviantArt, under "edgyspice". One of my favorites is a great pic she did called "Fish and Elf", which shows Chris Squire and Jon Anderson of Yes getting stoned. Classic.
Here's Jen channeling Neil Peart on Halloween:
So, here was my February: my husband Matt didn't go on tour with Circa: after all; the tour was canceled. In any case, they are interested in working with him again, so I'm glad for him.
Here's the big news of the month: my ex-roommate, maid of honor, and dear friend Scheila Gonzalez COPPED A GRAMMY!, along with the rest of Zappa Plays Zappa, for Best Rock Instrumental: their cover of Peaches En Regalia. She's over the moon about it, and I'm so psyched for her. We had dinner a couple of weeks ago and she just grinned from ear to ear while telling me what it was like to just---simply---win that little gilded gramophone. So, here's a video link to my homegirl; it starts at :37....
Matt and I went to see ZPZ on Saturday night at the Ventura Theater. Don't miss it, if you have a chance to go. These people play their asses off.
News flash on the diabetes front: last Saturday I had my eye exam, and the good doctor informed me that I've had no diabetic damage to my eyes in the space of a year. Yay! The uncontrolled blood glucose level visual blurriness I had back in December has resolved itself, too. That said, I became a good deal more myopic over the last twelve months. Funny---I thought myopia improved with age. Guess this is just Nature's way of keeping me young, heh heh heh.
What else? My kittyboy. Most of you know I have three cats, but I'm not sure if you know about one of them: my big, bouncing Brooklyn. He's a humongous black cat with a white patch on his neck and another on his tummy. He's a smooth talker; I call him The Reverend Al Green. He loves women. He immediately hooked me when I saw him at the shelter: a skinny, starving half-grown kitten who walked right up to me and just about said "Heyyyyyyy, bay-beh..." before he jumped, purring, into my arms. I adore him, and I am honored beyond any description that this wonderful creature loves me right back.
Brooklyn and I share something very important...we both have our own incurable chronic conditions. Whereas I have diabetes, he has feline hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. This disease of the heart is characterized by a thickening of the cardiac muscle, and will eventually kill him. In the meantime, Matt and I take him to UC Davis' Small Animal Clinic for his workups and ultrasounds, so we can keep track of the disease's progress. It's a long trip, but his care is dramatically less expensive this way than if we were to see a feline specialist here in Los Angeles. The only therapy Brooklyn has is to take atenolol, which is a beta-blocker, twice a day. He also gets lots of love, fresh water, good food, sunshine, grooming, gentle play, and the company of cats and humans. We always pay attention to his breathing and gait; panting could mean the beginning of heart failure, and limping could indicate a blood clot.
Matt and I took Mr. B up to Davis for his exam two weekends ago. We were worried what we might learn because we've been so broke that we couldn't afford to commit to the usual quarterly visit and were only able to bring him there once since 2007. However, we were overjoyed to learn that since we'd been to the clinic, there was no significant progression of the disease.
There are evenings during which I lie in bed with Brooklyn among the blankets, and I look into his green-gold eyes...and the moment becomes a timelessness that almost brings me to tears. For me, there's no "What if?" or "He's going to die too soon", or "I can't believe I have diabetes", or "Someday I will probably go blind from this disease". And for Brooklyn, there's always the present moment, no matter what. So we cuddle together, and there's just him and me and our eyes looking at each other, and we are both so happy to just be together right then. Each of these moments is a perfect little universe for us, and there's no room for fear or anything else.
If ever I had a Zen master, it is Brooklyn.
I hope everyone has been well, and that February treated you kindly. I had a pretty eventful and fun month. Before I get to that, how do you like the new banner and logo? Aren't they the dog's bollocks?
My friend Bill designed the banner. Bill is a multitalented man; he's a great graphic artist, but he's also a sa-moooooooookin' guitarist. He's got an exquisitely developed feel for music, a tone that few musicians possess, and chops out the yin-yang. He also loves cats and has a great sense of humor, so I'm a sucker for him. He's been an online buddy for three years; we have not actually met, but I hope that will change soon.
Here's a shot of Bill at a Yesfans gathering (a gathering of fans of the music of Yes, that is!) in Boston a couple of years ago:
My friend Jen designed the logo. She's another one of my massively talented friends...she's done caricatures and cartoons of Yes and Rush that have made me laugh until I'm in agony. We share the same sarky wit, except she's even more brilliant at it than I am. Here's an example, taken from a conversation we had in Borders yesterday morning:
Jen: T, check this out: The New York Times reported that the Catholic Church has brought back indulgences! Can you believe that?
Me: What?! I wonder what the Vatican's said about it. You think there's anything posted on the Holy See's website?
Jen: (without missing a beat) Yeah. A Paypal button.
I roared laughing. I'm still roaring laughing over it, even though I later learned that the Church meant plenary indulgences, which aren't sold. So what? It's a phenomenally beautiful bit of wit. I love dat goil. You can see more of her artwork at DeviantArt, under "edgyspice". One of my favorites is a great pic she did called "Fish and Elf", which shows Chris Squire and Jon Anderson of Yes getting stoned. Classic.
Here's Jen channeling Neil Peart on Halloween:
So, here was my February: my husband Matt didn't go on tour with Circa: after all; the tour was canceled. In any case, they are interested in working with him again, so I'm glad for him.
Here's the big news of the month: my ex-roommate, maid of honor, and dear friend Scheila Gonzalez COPPED A GRAMMY!, along with the rest of Zappa Plays Zappa, for Best Rock Instrumental: their cover of Peaches En Regalia. She's over the moon about it, and I'm so psyched for her. We had dinner a couple of weeks ago and she just grinned from ear to ear while telling me what it was like to just---simply---win that little gilded gramophone. So, here's a video link to my homegirl; it starts at :37....
Matt and I went to see ZPZ on Saturday night at the Ventura Theater. Don't miss it, if you have a chance to go. These people play their asses off.
News flash on the diabetes front: last Saturday I had my eye exam, and the good doctor informed me that I've had no diabetic damage to my eyes in the space of a year. Yay! The uncontrolled blood glucose level visual blurriness I had back in December has resolved itself, too. That said, I became a good deal more myopic over the last twelve months. Funny---I thought myopia improved with age. Guess this is just Nature's way of keeping me young, heh heh heh.
What else? My kittyboy. Most of you know I have three cats, but I'm not sure if you know about one of them: my big, bouncing Brooklyn. He's a humongous black cat with a white patch on his neck and another on his tummy. He's a smooth talker; I call him The Reverend Al Green. He loves women. He immediately hooked me when I saw him at the shelter: a skinny, starving half-grown kitten who walked right up to me and just about said "Heyyyyyyy, bay-beh..." before he jumped, purring, into my arms. I adore him, and I am honored beyond any description that this wonderful creature loves me right back.
Brooklyn and I share something very important...we both have our own incurable chronic conditions. Whereas I have diabetes, he has feline hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. This disease of the heart is characterized by a thickening of the cardiac muscle, and will eventually kill him. In the meantime, Matt and I take him to UC Davis' Small Animal Clinic for his workups and ultrasounds, so we can keep track of the disease's progress. It's a long trip, but his care is dramatically less expensive this way than if we were to see a feline specialist here in Los Angeles. The only therapy Brooklyn has is to take atenolol, which is a beta-blocker, twice a day. He also gets lots of love, fresh water, good food, sunshine, grooming, gentle play, and the company of cats and humans. We always pay attention to his breathing and gait; panting could mean the beginning of heart failure, and limping could indicate a blood clot.
Matt and I took Mr. B up to Davis for his exam two weekends ago. We were worried what we might learn because we've been so broke that we couldn't afford to commit to the usual quarterly visit and were only able to bring him there once since 2007. However, we were overjoyed to learn that since we'd been to the clinic, there was no significant progression of the disease.
There are evenings during which I lie in bed with Brooklyn among the blankets, and I look into his green-gold eyes...and the moment becomes a timelessness that almost brings me to tears. For me, there's no "What if?" or "He's going to die too soon", or "I can't believe I have diabetes", or "Someday I will probably go blind from this disease". And for Brooklyn, there's always the present moment, no matter what. So we cuddle together, and there's just him and me and our eyes looking at each other, and we are both so happy to just be together right then. Each of these moments is a perfect little universe for us, and there's no room for fear or anything else.
If ever I had a Zen master, it is Brooklyn.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
NOT AGAYNE!
Hiya, all. My laptop took a turn for the worse and died a peaceful death a few days ago. Requiescat in pace, Inspiron!
I'm typing this from work to let y'all know that I won't be blogging until I purchase and set up a new 'puter. This shouldn't take too long.
Love to youse guys---and see you soon!
I'm typing this from work to let y'all know that I won't be blogging until I purchase and set up a new 'puter. This shouldn't take too long.
Love to youse guys---and see you soon!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
LOSS CAN BE GAIN.
So, here's what happened yesterday:
Got up. Check.
Took a shower. Check.
Got dressed. Check.
Went to work. Check.
Sat at desk, unzipped backpack, pulled out carrying pouch for glucometer. Check.
Unzipped pouch...hey! Where's my glucometer? It was in here when I tested my blood sugar last night, and I know I put it back. It must have fallen out somehow.
Noisy scramble in backpack ensues. No results.
PANIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And I mean total, unfettered panic. I just lost it, right there at my desk. All I could think was that my entire day would be shot to hell because I couldn't test my blood sugar. How would I know what my daily glucose levels would be? My logbook would lack more than eight hours of valuable information! There'd be a gap in my record-keeping and the inaccuracy would produce skewed data which would piss off my doctor when I submitted my charts to him at my next appointment! How would I know in the course of the day if I was heading for a hypoglycemic crash? And on and on it went for about five minutes, until I just stopped to think, and...not-think.
Why was I freaking?
What was all this coming out in my thoughts?
Why was I obsessing over this little purple device that had gone AWOL, and the numbers it reports to me six times a day?
Why did I think that I'd be a failure to myself and my doctor and my self-care if my logbook lacked some data?
Why does it all have to be "right"? Why do I feel I can't make any mistakes?
I don't know. No, that's not true; I do know. I'm scared. I don't want to make mistakes that can compromise my health even further! If I keep screwing up, those screw-ups can add up. I don't want organ failure or my feet or my legs amputated later on in life! I don't want my already shitty sight to get worse or disappear!
Stop. Wasn't I taking the best care of myself that I possibly could---eating well and walking and taking my meds, and getting enough sleep, and doing zazen, and hugging my husband, my cats, and friends---and keeping in good spirits? Couldn't I trust all this?
Wasn't I perfectly capable of listening to my body so that if I felt the first faint symptoms of hypoglycemia coming on, I could immediately stop the crash with my glucose tabs?
Okay...okay. I'm going to be fine without the damn thing. It's just one day. Even if it had to be more than one day, I'd still be fine. I know what I need, and what I don't doesn't matter.
The rest of the day happened. I ate well. I took the meds. I did my job. I laughed with co-workers. I did zazen in one of the empty meeting rooms. I listened to my body. I wrote down my meals and snacks in my logbook. I felt pretty good.
Near the end of the workday, I remembered that the day before I had slipped a sticky note into my glucometer pouch. I'd written a friend's work number on that note, and I wanted to give her a quick call before I went home. I unzipped the pouch and rummaged around in the side pocket where I'd put the note.
I found the note...
...and I found my glucometer.
Dogen Zenji* wrote in his peerless work, Shobogenzo: "Diligently apply yourself, and whatever arises as 'just for a while'. "
I think I might just "get" that, now...
...mmmmaybe!
*Dogen Zenji (1200 - 1253) founded the Soto Zen school. If you'd like to learn more about him, please see this link: http://global.sotozen-net.or.jp/eng/dogen_zenji.html
Got up. Check.
Took a shower. Check.
Got dressed. Check.
Went to work. Check.
Sat at desk, unzipped backpack, pulled out carrying pouch for glucometer. Check.
Unzipped pouch...hey! Where's my glucometer? It was in here when I tested my blood sugar last night, and I know I put it back. It must have fallen out somehow.
Noisy scramble in backpack ensues. No results.
PANIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And I mean total, unfettered panic. I just lost it, right there at my desk. All I could think was that my entire day would be shot to hell because I couldn't test my blood sugar. How would I know what my daily glucose levels would be? My logbook would lack more than eight hours of valuable information! There'd be a gap in my record-keeping and the inaccuracy would produce skewed data which would piss off my doctor when I submitted my charts to him at my next appointment! How would I know in the course of the day if I was heading for a hypoglycemic crash? And on and on it went for about five minutes, until I just stopped to think, and...not-think.
Why was I freaking?
What was all this coming out in my thoughts?
Why was I obsessing over this little purple device that had gone AWOL, and the numbers it reports to me six times a day?
Why did I think that I'd be a failure to myself and my doctor and my self-care if my logbook lacked some data?
Why does it all have to be "right"? Why do I feel I can't make any mistakes?
I don't know. No, that's not true; I do know. I'm scared. I don't want to make mistakes that can compromise my health even further! If I keep screwing up, those screw-ups can add up. I don't want organ failure or my feet or my legs amputated later on in life! I don't want my already shitty sight to get worse or disappear!
Stop. Wasn't I taking the best care of myself that I possibly could---eating well and walking and taking my meds, and getting enough sleep, and doing zazen, and hugging my husband, my cats, and friends---and keeping in good spirits? Couldn't I trust all this?
Wasn't I perfectly capable of listening to my body so that if I felt the first faint symptoms of hypoglycemia coming on, I could immediately stop the crash with my glucose tabs?
Okay...okay. I'm going to be fine without the damn thing. It's just one day. Even if it had to be more than one day, I'd still be fine. I know what I need, and what I don't doesn't matter.
The rest of the day happened. I ate well. I took the meds. I did my job. I laughed with co-workers. I did zazen in one of the empty meeting rooms. I listened to my body. I wrote down my meals and snacks in my logbook. I felt pretty good.
Near the end of the workday, I remembered that the day before I had slipped a sticky note into my glucometer pouch. I'd written a friend's work number on that note, and I wanted to give her a quick call before I went home. I unzipped the pouch and rummaged around in the side pocket where I'd put the note.
I found the note...
...and I found my glucometer.
Dogen Zenji* wrote in his peerless work, Shobogenzo: "Diligently apply yourself, and whatever arises as 'just for a while'. "
I think I might just "get" that, now...
...mmmmaybe!
*Dogen Zenji (1200 - 1253) founded the Soto Zen school. If you'd like to learn more about him, please see this link: http://global.sotozen-net.or.jp/eng/dogen_zenji.html
Thursday, January 29, 2009
MAYOR BLOOMBERG AND ME: STRANGE BEDFELLOWS!
You may have read today that the latest "Hizzoner" of my old hometown has decided to take a stand against salt...
http://cbs5.com/health/bloomberg.war.on.2.920740.html
...and, after a bit of reflection, I've decided that I think he's on the right track with this. If US food manufacturers reduce the salt content of foods by fifty percent over a ten-year period, we will probably see healthier Americans by that time. Excess, hidden salt is in just about everything we eat, even in "sweet" foods like cake and candy. On the more obvious side of things, have you ever noticed the sodium content in your average can of soup? It's pretty scary how high that number can go.
I know that we are all responsible adults who can, and do, make good decisions for ourselves---and this is why the "nanny state" comment by one respondent to the above article sort of made me a little sad. Let's be honest: as consumers, we need all the help we can get. If someone in our government offers to assist us in acquiring and maintaining good health, why not gracefully accept the offer? Doing so doesn't seem "nanny state" to me (and it's not as if the good mayor is saying, "Hey! There's this stuff we've developed---we're calling it Soylent Green! You're gonna eat it!").
We're busy people. It's often easiest for us to purchase ready-to-serve items from the supermarket to help us save time in meal preparation, and these are the very items that are highest in sodium. Some of us would rather have the convenience than the health benefit, but we can have both. Bloomberg's proposal makes this clear.
Anyway, Hizzoner's idea got me thinking about the other "hidden" thing in foods: sugar. It's bloody EVERYWHERE. Because it is in everything we eat, and exists in great excess in prepared foods, our population is at great health risk for...you guessed it...diabetes. You can pick up just about any food in the supermarket, read the label, and find sugar in it. Here are some of its other names:
Beet sugar
http://cbs5.com/health/bloomberg.war.on.2.920740.html
...and, after a bit of reflection, I've decided that I think he's on the right track with this. If US food manufacturers reduce the salt content of foods by fifty percent over a ten-year period, we will probably see healthier Americans by that time. Excess, hidden salt is in just about everything we eat, even in "sweet" foods like cake and candy. On the more obvious side of things, have you ever noticed the sodium content in your average can of soup? It's pretty scary how high that number can go.
I know that we are all responsible adults who can, and do, make good decisions for ourselves---and this is why the "nanny state" comment by one respondent to the above article sort of made me a little sad. Let's be honest: as consumers, we need all the help we can get. If someone in our government offers to assist us in acquiring and maintaining good health, why not gracefully accept the offer? Doing so doesn't seem "nanny state" to me (and it's not as if the good mayor is saying, "Hey! There's this stuff we've developed---we're calling it Soylent Green! You're gonna eat it!").
We're busy people. It's often easiest for us to purchase ready-to-serve items from the supermarket to help us save time in meal preparation, and these are the very items that are highest in sodium. Some of us would rather have the convenience than the health benefit, but we can have both. Bloomberg's proposal makes this clear.
Anyway, Hizzoner's idea got me thinking about the other "hidden" thing in foods: sugar. It's bloody EVERYWHERE. Because it is in everything we eat, and exists in great excess in prepared foods, our population is at great health risk for...you guessed it...diabetes. You can pick up just about any food in the supermarket, read the label, and find sugar in it. Here are some of its other names:
Beet sugar
Brown sugar
Cane sugar
Concentrated grape juice
Confectioner’s sugar
Corn sweeteners
Corn syrup
Cane juice
Demerara sugar
Dextrin
Dextrose
Fructose
Fruit juice concentrate
Galactose
Glucose
High-fructose corn syrup
Honey
Invert sugar
Lactose
Malt
Maltitol
Maltodextrin
Maltose
Mannitol
Maple cream
Maple sugar
Maple syrup
Molasses
Powdered sugar
Rapadura
Raw sugar
Sorbitol
Sorghum
Sucrose
Table sugar
Turbinado sugar
White sugar
Xylitol
Read labels, friends. Please. You don't need all this in your food! In any case, the less processed a food is, the better it is for you.
Another thing you can do to help minimize the amount of sugars you ingest is to eat foods that are lower on the glycemic index. For those of you who might not have heard this term, the glycemic index is a way to quantify the impact of carbohydrates on blood glucose levels. Certain foods that act as sugars (such as watermelon, grapes, potatoes, corn, white rice) are high-glycemic foods. Most other fruits and vegetables---as well as proteins, nuts, and whole grains---are low-glycemic foods. I love using barley as a substitute for rice; it is an excellent low-glycemic grain choice. Here is a link that's helped me learn more about the glycemic index:
I hope you find this helpful, too.
Monday, January 19, 2009
PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE....BUT IT SURE TRIES MY PATIENCE TO BE PATIENT!
Hiya, peeps!
I'm sorry I've been gone so long. There have been a few earth-shattering events here at the Brown household---for one, my husband Matt is going to tour Italy as the auxiliary keyboardist for a band called Circa:, which features ex-Yes men Tony Kaye and Billy Sherwood, as well as drummer Jay Schellen and guitarist Jimmy Haun. Woohooo! It's all very exciting, and Matt's still in shock that he was asked to play. Here's a link for those who may be interested: http://www.circahq.com/
In the matter of diabetes, the last two weeks or so have been....frustrating, to say the least. My blood glucose levels have been all over the place, although I have been eating well, walking, and taking my medications. I have not lost any weight for over a month. According to my doctor, I will probably not lose any weight until my A1C gets down from 10.2 to a healthier level, like 6.5 or less. In March, I will have my quarterly battery of tests, and I will see if I've improved. If I begin to drop more weight before then, that will be a good indication that I am successfully controlling my diabetes.
But lately I've wanted to hurl my glucometer out the window because of those erratic blood glucose levels. My doctor believes that one of my meds must be fine-tuned, so I have spent the last half month trying to find the magic formula in the daily amount of glyburide I take. I am only allowed a certain daily amount of my other oral med, Metformin, which I divide into three daily doses of 1000, 500, and 1000 milligrams. But my doc has allowed me to tweak my glyburide dosage to customize it. He started me off with 2.5 milligrams taken twice a day, and I've been playing with it since then, gradually increasing the amount taken, and adding a third daily dose. The maximum daily dosage of glyburide is 20 milligrams a day, and I'm not even close to that number. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Sure---but, dammit, the "crashes" when my blood glucose goes below 70, combined with the 200-plus highs, are a recipe for misery. Between the downs and ups I feel like shit, I get cranky, I have screaming headaches, nausea, cold sweats, dizziness, weakness, body aches, excessive thirst, and I just want to say "Fuck it", throw the meds out, eat everything in sight....and kick my zafu and zabuton. Hard.
And then I remember what I have learned via Buddhist training, about suffering and doing one thing at a time, here and now. So, I suffer. What is that? Well, suffering is part of chronic illness. Will I continually suffer or be in pain? I don't know. Is there a chance that I'll have some moments during which I'll stop suffering? Very likely, but I can't tell you when they'll be. How do I feel now, right this second? Not bad, actually. I'll go test my blood and see what my levels are.
Okay! My levels are 128, two hours after dinner. Pretty good there, me!
Now, if these levels rise two hours from now for no apparent reason, or if they plummet and I crash out, the only thing I can do is address the issue as it happens at that moment. All I can do is be diligent in maintaining my healthy lifestyle of eating well and walking, and couple that with the trial-and-error process of adjusting the glyburide...and accept that all this is an adjustment period that requires patience. If, in the next few weeks, I just can't achieve a normal rise and fall of blood sugar, I will call my doctor and we will try something else. It's small steps for me all the way. Freaking does no good, and can do me harm, as stress increases blood glucose levels. As a matter of fact, the upset I've felt over the last couple of weeks most likely sent that stack right through the roof.
Time to sit.
I'm sorry I've been gone so long. There have been a few earth-shattering events here at the Brown household---for one, my husband Matt is going to tour Italy as the auxiliary keyboardist for a band called Circa:, which features ex-Yes men Tony Kaye and Billy Sherwood, as well as drummer Jay Schellen and guitarist Jimmy Haun. Woohooo! It's all very exciting, and Matt's still in shock that he was asked to play. Here's a link for those who may be interested: http://www.circahq.com/
In the matter of diabetes, the last two weeks or so have been....frustrating, to say the least. My blood glucose levels have been all over the place, although I have been eating well, walking, and taking my medications. I have not lost any weight for over a month. According to my doctor, I will probably not lose any weight until my A1C gets down from 10.2 to a healthier level, like 6.5 or less. In March, I will have my quarterly battery of tests, and I will see if I've improved. If I begin to drop more weight before then, that will be a good indication that I am successfully controlling my diabetes.
But lately I've wanted to hurl my glucometer out the window because of those erratic blood glucose levels. My doctor believes that one of my meds must be fine-tuned, so I have spent the last half month trying to find the magic formula in the daily amount of glyburide I take. I am only allowed a certain daily amount of my other oral med, Metformin, which I divide into three daily doses of 1000, 500, and 1000 milligrams. But my doc has allowed me to tweak my glyburide dosage to customize it. He started me off with 2.5 milligrams taken twice a day, and I've been playing with it since then, gradually increasing the amount taken, and adding a third daily dose. The maximum daily dosage of glyburide is 20 milligrams a day, and I'm not even close to that number. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Sure---but, dammit, the "crashes" when my blood glucose goes below 70, combined with the 200-plus highs, are a recipe for misery. Between the downs and ups I feel like shit, I get cranky, I have screaming headaches, nausea, cold sweats, dizziness, weakness, body aches, excessive thirst, and I just want to say "Fuck it", throw the meds out, eat everything in sight....and kick my zafu and zabuton. Hard.
And then I remember what I have learned via Buddhist training, about suffering and doing one thing at a time, here and now. So, I suffer. What is that? Well, suffering is part of chronic illness. Will I continually suffer or be in pain? I don't know. Is there a chance that I'll have some moments during which I'll stop suffering? Very likely, but I can't tell you when they'll be. How do I feel now, right this second? Not bad, actually. I'll go test my blood and see what my levels are.
Okay! My levels are 128, two hours after dinner. Pretty good there, me!
Now, if these levels rise two hours from now for no apparent reason, or if they plummet and I crash out, the only thing I can do is address the issue as it happens at that moment. All I can do is be diligent in maintaining my healthy lifestyle of eating well and walking, and couple that with the trial-and-error process of adjusting the glyburide...and accept that all this is an adjustment period that requires patience. If, in the next few weeks, I just can't achieve a normal rise and fall of blood sugar, I will call my doctor and we will try something else. It's small steps for me all the way. Freaking does no good, and can do me harm, as stress increases blood glucose levels. As a matter of fact, the upset I've felt over the last couple of weeks most likely sent that stack right through the roof.
Time to sit.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
MANY THANKS TO DMITRY, THE MIRACLE WORKER
Hello, all! I'm back, and the 'puter is running beautifully once more. Dmitry really knows his stuff when it comes to techie things. Me, I'm a Luddite...or, when confronted with anything more complicated than "insert Tab A into Slot B", my tomboyishness flees and Betty Boop takes over. Therefore, I am very grateful for D's assistance, and to show my appreciation of his talents, I plan to buy him a small gift this weekend. Problem is, I just can't bring myself to purchase the one thing I know he really loves: frogs' legs. Yow.
It was a very difficult afternoon today---I had an appointment, but mass transit was problematic and it took me almost three hours to reach my doc's office. I'm wiped out as I type, so this entry will end here. I need sleeeeeeeeeeeep....
It was a very difficult afternoon today---I had an appointment, but mass transit was problematic and it took me almost three hours to reach my doc's office. I'm wiped out as I type, so this entry will end here. I need sleeeeeeeeeeeep....
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
UH, OH....
Well, folks...my computer has some issues; in fact, it's funkier than Bootsy Collins and needs lots of work. I am bringing the machine to Dmitry The Mad Russian Genius (my co-worker and friend) who will lay his healing hands on it and make it all better. I'll have it back by Monday.
Until then, I wish you all an enjoyable few days!
Until then, I wish you all an enjoyable few days!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
THE DAWN PHENOMENON
Hi, youse folks! Hope your week is going well.
As I started taking better care of myself and adjusting to the oral diabetes meds, I noticed something that seemed kind of odd. My fasting glucose levels (the measure of my blood sugars upon arising) appeared quite high---over 160---when they should have been much lower. I had no idea what was happening, so I went on the Interwebs and did a bit of research. Turns out that this is a common event for diabetics; it's called---you guessed it---the dawn phenomenon. What apparently happens as I sleep is that certain hormones come to visit my liver and make it shell out glucose so I can have some sort of energy to use for when I wake up. At the same time, these hormones hold my insulin hostage so it can't handle the excess glucose, and BAM!...up go the numbers.
There are different treatment approaches for the dawn phenomenon, including adjustment of meds, exercise early in the day and not later, and the one that appealed to me the most: a small snack before bed. Basically, I'd been eating my last meal of the day in the early evening and not eating anything after that. My rationale was that if I was trying to lose weight, I shouldn't consume anything after 7 PM. In this case, however, something to eat before I turned in could possibly be more helpful than harmful. I decided to try it out.
For the last five days or so, I have had one stick of lowfat string cheese right before sleep. And, wouldn't you know it---so far, so good. My morning readings have been in between 73 and 88. When I see my doc again in two weeks, I'll find out if I've solved the issue, or if he wants to tweak anything else in my treatment. I hope he'll just leave me with my cheese and call it a day.
There's another kind of dawn phenomenon I've been experiencing lately, too: during these last few days, I've awakened feeling much better than I have in a very long time; in years, it seems. After the alarm clock buzzes (and after I have swatted the snooze button twice, as is my normal morning habit), I turn it off and simply feel...grateful. Thankful. I can take care of my health, and I'm fortunate to still have some health for which I am able to care. I have health insurance, unlike so many others. I have supportive people in my life who teach me something each day. Matt is patient and always helps me. Even our three Qats (with apologies to B. Kliban!) are my own personal cheering squad, so I salute these three little purr-factories named Naima, Brooklyn, and Lerxst. Thank you, loveys, for all your comfort and cuddling.
Oh! Before I forget, my buddy Timmo thought it would be a good idea to tell you that I pronounce Tasia as "TAY-zhuh", not "TAH-zhah". I think this is because he called me "TAH-zhah" for a year before he figured it out (I just didn't have the heart to tell him, model of tact and politeness that I am).
As I started taking better care of myself and adjusting to the oral diabetes meds, I noticed something that seemed kind of odd. My fasting glucose levels (the measure of my blood sugars upon arising) appeared quite high---over 160---when they should have been much lower. I had no idea what was happening, so I went on the Interwebs and did a bit of research. Turns out that this is a common event for diabetics; it's called---you guessed it---the dawn phenomenon. What apparently happens as I sleep is that certain hormones come to visit my liver and make it shell out glucose so I can have some sort of energy to use for when I wake up. At the same time, these hormones hold my insulin hostage so it can't handle the excess glucose, and BAM!...up go the numbers.
There are different treatment approaches for the dawn phenomenon, including adjustment of meds, exercise early in the day and not later, and the one that appealed to me the most: a small snack before bed. Basically, I'd been eating my last meal of the day in the early evening and not eating anything after that. My rationale was that if I was trying to lose weight, I shouldn't consume anything after 7 PM. In this case, however, something to eat before I turned in could possibly be more helpful than harmful. I decided to try it out.
For the last five days or so, I have had one stick of lowfat string cheese right before sleep. And, wouldn't you know it---so far, so good. My morning readings have been in between 73 and 88. When I see my doc again in two weeks, I'll find out if I've solved the issue, or if he wants to tweak anything else in my treatment. I hope he'll just leave me with my cheese and call it a day.
There's another kind of dawn phenomenon I've been experiencing lately, too: during these last few days, I've awakened feeling much better than I have in a very long time; in years, it seems. After the alarm clock buzzes (and after I have swatted the snooze button twice, as is my normal morning habit), I turn it off and simply feel...grateful. Thankful. I can take care of my health, and I'm fortunate to still have some health for which I am able to care. I have health insurance, unlike so many others. I have supportive people in my life who teach me something each day. Matt is patient and always helps me. Even our three Qats (with apologies to B. Kliban!) are my own personal cheering squad, so I salute these three little purr-factories named Naima, Brooklyn, and Lerxst. Thank you, loveys, for all your comfort and cuddling.
Oh! Before I forget, my buddy Timmo thought it would be a good idea to tell you that I pronounce Tasia as "TAY-zhuh", not "TAH-zhah". I think this is because he called me "TAH-zhah" for a year before he figured it out (I just didn't have the heart to tell him, model of tact and politeness that I am).
Sunday, January 4, 2009
BE NICE, BE KIND...AND BE HEALTHY
Many thanks to Pam and Cheryl for your kind words! I am glad you visited---please come back again when you'd like to.
I wanted to take a moment to explain a little more about the Intention-Setting Ceremony Matt and I attended at the Against The Stream Buddhist Meditation Society on New Year's Eve, and what it meant for me. Each of us who were there named our intentions for the coming year, and lit a candle. My intentions were to take care of my diabetes and health, to be more compassionate to others, and to not speak evilly of others---this last, of course, means to engage only in skillful speech. No gossiping allowed. And I'm a born and bred Brooklynite who is part Italian, for God's sake. Do any of you know how difficult it can be to keep one of us from jabbering on about someone else?
But one thing I learned from gossiping is that it always ended up making me feel lousy. Now, when I say "gossiping", I don't mean speaking with care about a friend for whom you're concerned because they are sick, and the like---I mean catty, useless talking. And yet, even as I nattered on about this person or that, I felt awful. I knew it was wrong and unfair, even if the person about whom I was speaking wasn't a very nice or kind person. It hurt to do it, but I kept right on doing it because it was a kind of addiction in a sense.
Gossiping also drags out a whole lot of other feelings, including anger. At least for me it did. I already have a lot of anger in me from a past which I haven't yet resolved, and gossiping just added to the load. I obsessed over other people's words and behavior, and it would bring me to a height of pissed-offness that made me grit my teeth so that my jaw hurt afterwards. And boy, could I justify it: "His politics are all wrong, so he's The Enemy!" On the heels of this justification, I kept renewing this behavior, solidifying it, by being absolutely confrontational with others. Okay, don't let me sugar-coat it: I was a Number-One Bitch.
I've already told a few people that I am sorry for the way I have acted. They have accepted my apologies; in doing so, they have treated me better than I had treated them. They have taught me, and I'm grateful for the lesson.
And---boy howdy!---besides the cultivation and nurturing of compassion, there are other benefits to ridding myself of the gossiping and unskillful speech habit: in stopping the blathering, I am less angry. When I'm less angry, I'm less stressed. Less stress means lower blood glucose readings. So, skillful speech to me also means a skillful life.
I'd like to include a link to a website at which I'm a moderator. It's called Eunoia, and it's a fun place to be. It also had its day regarding unskillful speech, but it appears that that's behind it now! Here's the link: http://afunplacetobe.myfreeforum.org/
For anyone who may be interested in Noah Levine and the Against The Stream Buddhist Meditation Society, please visit this link: http://www.againstthestream.org/
I wanted to take a moment to explain a little more about the Intention-Setting Ceremony Matt and I attended at the Against The Stream Buddhist Meditation Society on New Year's Eve, and what it meant for me. Each of us who were there named our intentions for the coming year, and lit a candle. My intentions were to take care of my diabetes and health, to be more compassionate to others, and to not speak evilly of others---this last, of course, means to engage only in skillful speech. No gossiping allowed. And I'm a born and bred Brooklynite who is part Italian, for God's sake. Do any of you know how difficult it can be to keep one of us from jabbering on about someone else?
But one thing I learned from gossiping is that it always ended up making me feel lousy. Now, when I say "gossiping", I don't mean speaking with care about a friend for whom you're concerned because they are sick, and the like---I mean catty, useless talking. And yet, even as I nattered on about this person or that, I felt awful. I knew it was wrong and unfair, even if the person about whom I was speaking wasn't a very nice or kind person. It hurt to do it, but I kept right on doing it because it was a kind of addiction in a sense.
Gossiping also drags out a whole lot of other feelings, including anger. At least for me it did. I already have a lot of anger in me from a past which I haven't yet resolved, and gossiping just added to the load. I obsessed over other people's words and behavior, and it would bring me to a height of pissed-offness that made me grit my teeth so that my jaw hurt afterwards. And boy, could I justify it: "His politics are all wrong, so he's The Enemy!" On the heels of this justification, I kept renewing this behavior, solidifying it, by being absolutely confrontational with others. Okay, don't let me sugar-coat it: I was a Number-One Bitch.
I've already told a few people that I am sorry for the way I have acted. They have accepted my apologies; in doing so, they have treated me better than I had treated them. They have taught me, and I'm grateful for the lesson.
And---boy howdy!---besides the cultivation and nurturing of compassion, there are other benefits to ridding myself of the gossiping and unskillful speech habit: in stopping the blathering, I am less angry. When I'm less angry, I'm less stressed. Less stress means lower blood glucose readings. So, skillful speech to me also means a skillful life.
I'd like to include a link to a website at which I'm a moderator. It's called Eunoia, and it's a fun place to be. It also had its day regarding unskillful speech, but it appears that that's behind it now! Here's the link: http://afunplacetobe.myfreeforum.org/
For anyone who may be interested in Noah Levine and the Against The Stream Buddhist Meditation Society, please visit this link: http://www.againstthestream.org/
Saturday, January 3, 2009
GREETINGS!
Hello, all! I'm new at this blogging thing, so please bear with me. I'm also relatively new at diabetes and at Buddhism, so do let me begin by saying I am hardly an authority on either subject; I'm still learning about them. I'll cut to the chase and give you the story; here's Part 1:
I learned that I had Type II (adult onset) diabetes during a routine physical on April 3, 2007, two days after my 45th birthday. At that time, I was in the midst of a year's worth of disability for fibromyalgia and psoriatic arthritis, so the diabetes diagnosis was just another explanation for my feeling like hell. I remember that I was relieved that there was a reason for my excessive thirst and chronic candida, as well as the other charming symptoms of this disease, so I immediately made an appointment with an endocrinologist, took some tests, met with a nutritionist, got my free blood glucose meter in the mail (for those who don't know, the meter companies give 'em away because they charge up the wazoo for the test strips you need to purchase in order to check your blood glucose levels), and started to take care of myself. And then two months into it, I got rebellious and stopped giving a damn...until December 8, 2008, when my vision just crapped out on me at work and I couldn't see anything on my computer screen. Diabetes can wreck your vision, you see, and one of the symptoms of high glucose levels is blurred vision. The bell went off in my head.
I left work, went home, dug out my old meter, bought some new test strips, and tested my blood sugar. Now, normal readings for me are 110 or less before meals, and 140 or less after meals. My reading was 300. Scared the hell out of me. Okay, I thought, I can't see much of anything right now. This is REAL. If I don't do something now, I'll be facing things like organ failure and some other fun things down the line.
So, it was back to the doctor for tests, admonition, and some new medications (I don't take insulin; I take those old classics called Metformin and Glyburide). The tests revealed that my kidneys were not damaged despite the neglect, and I was so relieved to hear this that I almost cried. However, one test which gives a diabetic patient an average of their glucose level for two to three months--called the A1C--put me at 10.2; a healthy level for a diabetic is 6.5 or lower. Yikes. My triglycerides were off the scale, as were my LDL (the bad cholesterol) levels. My HDLs (good cholesterol) were too low. The only good things I had going for me were that my blood pressure was great from diligently taking my BP meds for years, and that I didn't smoke (I quit three years ago). Oh, did I mention that I am about 90 pounds overweight?
Since I went back to the doctor, I have been caring for myself. I have my blood glucose under control. I am eating well and dropping weight. I take my meds faithfully. My vision is still blurry; it will take more time to improve, but even so, I feel better than I have in a very long time. In a few weeks, I will have more tests and see the results of my self-care, and I look forward to that.
Okay, here's Part 2:
I have considered myself a Buddhist for about three years, although I didn't really do much with it. I practiced zazen (shikantaza, or "just sitting" meditation) on my own, and then for the space of a few months I went to sit with Brad Warner, the punk-bassist Zen master, over at the Hill Street Center in Santa Monica. Brad is a scream, and I think much of the Buddhist community doesn't really understand him because his approach to Buddhism is not what most people, Buddhist or not, expect. Maybe they shouldn't expect anything. Anyway, as much as I enjoyed sitting with Brad, I didn't feel as if he was the teacher for me. This is no slam against Brad; he is a wonderful teacher for so many others, and just because he didn't work out for me doesn't mean he sucks.
I continued my practice on my own until about a month ago, when my husband Matt and I decided to visit the Against the Stream Buddhist Meditation Society Center, located on Melrose in Los Angeles and established by by Noah Levine. The first time we went there to meditate, Noah was away, so we didn't have the opportunity to hear him speak or meditate with him until New Year's Eve, when the Center held a New Year's Intention-Setting ceremony and offered people the opportunity to receive the Five Buddhist Precepts and take the Three Refuges. Matt and I decided we wanted to deepen our commitment to Buddhism, so we attended.
Here are the Five:
1. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking life.
2. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking what is not given.
3. I undertake the training rule to abstain from sexual misconduct.
4. I undertake the training rule to abstain from false speech.
5. I undertake the training rule to abstain from drinks and drugs that cause heedlessness.
It will be interesting to see how I---an all too human person!---interpret and follow these rules. What about euthanasia? Abortion? Stealing food if you are starving and broke? Killing in self-defense? White lies?
One thing about the ceremony that I really loved is that we took The Three Refuges in the original Pali language:
Buddham saranam gacchami (to the Buddha [Buddha nature—the ideal or highest spiritual potential that exists within all beings] for refuge I go)
Dhammam saranam gacchami (to the Dharma [teachings] for refuge I go)
Sangham saranam gacchami (to the Sangha [community] for refuge I go)
Dutiyampi Buddham saranam gacchami (For the second time ... [repeated for each of the three])
Tatiyampi Buddham saranam gacchami (For the third time ... [repeated for each of the three])
At this time, Matt and I want to continue to attend meditations at Against the Stream, so that is what we will do.
So...how do diabetes and Buddhism combine in my life? Diabetes is something that keeps me in the present moment, at each step of my self-care throughout each day. And in caring for myself every day, mindfulness is present as a big ol' smack upside the head. It hurts so good. LOL!
Whew! That's all for now.
I learned that I had Type II (adult onset) diabetes during a routine physical on April 3, 2007, two days after my 45th birthday. At that time, I was in the midst of a year's worth of disability for fibromyalgia and psoriatic arthritis, so the diabetes diagnosis was just another explanation for my feeling like hell. I remember that I was relieved that there was a reason for my excessive thirst and chronic candida, as well as the other charming symptoms of this disease, so I immediately made an appointment with an endocrinologist, took some tests, met with a nutritionist, got my free blood glucose meter in the mail (for those who don't know, the meter companies give 'em away because they charge up the wazoo for the test strips you need to purchase in order to check your blood glucose levels), and started to take care of myself. And then two months into it, I got rebellious and stopped giving a damn...until December 8, 2008, when my vision just crapped out on me at work and I couldn't see anything on my computer screen. Diabetes can wreck your vision, you see, and one of the symptoms of high glucose levels is blurred vision. The bell went off in my head.
I left work, went home, dug out my old meter, bought some new test strips, and tested my blood sugar. Now, normal readings for me are 110 or less before meals, and 140 or less after meals. My reading was 300. Scared the hell out of me. Okay, I thought, I can't see much of anything right now. This is REAL. If I don't do something now, I'll be facing things like organ failure and some other fun things down the line.
So, it was back to the doctor for tests, admonition, and some new medications (I don't take insulin; I take those old classics called Metformin and Glyburide). The tests revealed that my kidneys were not damaged despite the neglect, and I was so relieved to hear this that I almost cried. However, one test which gives a diabetic patient an average of their glucose level for two to three months--called the A1C--put me at 10.2; a healthy level for a diabetic is 6.5 or lower. Yikes. My triglycerides were off the scale, as were my LDL (the bad cholesterol) levels. My HDLs (good cholesterol) were too low. The only good things I had going for me were that my blood pressure was great from diligently taking my BP meds for years, and that I didn't smoke (I quit three years ago). Oh, did I mention that I am about 90 pounds overweight?
Since I went back to the doctor, I have been caring for myself. I have my blood glucose under control. I am eating well and dropping weight. I take my meds faithfully. My vision is still blurry; it will take more time to improve, but even so, I feel better than I have in a very long time. In a few weeks, I will have more tests and see the results of my self-care, and I look forward to that.
Okay, here's Part 2:
I have considered myself a Buddhist for about three years, although I didn't really do much with it. I practiced zazen (shikantaza, or "just sitting" meditation) on my own, and then for the space of a few months I went to sit with Brad Warner, the punk-bassist Zen master, over at the Hill Street Center in Santa Monica. Brad is a scream, and I think much of the Buddhist community doesn't really understand him because his approach to Buddhism is not what most people, Buddhist or not, expect. Maybe they shouldn't expect anything. Anyway, as much as I enjoyed sitting with Brad, I didn't feel as if he was the teacher for me. This is no slam against Brad; he is a wonderful teacher for so many others, and just because he didn't work out for me doesn't mean he sucks.
I continued my practice on my own until about a month ago, when my husband Matt and I decided to visit the Against the Stream Buddhist Meditation Society Center, located on Melrose in Los Angeles and established by by Noah Levine. The first time we went there to meditate, Noah was away, so we didn't have the opportunity to hear him speak or meditate with him until New Year's Eve, when the Center held a New Year's Intention-Setting ceremony and offered people the opportunity to receive the Five Buddhist Precepts and take the Three Refuges. Matt and I decided we wanted to deepen our commitment to Buddhism, so we attended.
Here are the Five:
1. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking life.
2. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking what is not given.
3. I undertake the training rule to abstain from sexual misconduct.
4. I undertake the training rule to abstain from false speech.
5. I undertake the training rule to abstain from drinks and drugs that cause heedlessness.
It will be interesting to see how I---an all too human person!---interpret and follow these rules. What about euthanasia? Abortion? Stealing food if you are starving and broke? Killing in self-defense? White lies?
One thing about the ceremony that I really loved is that we took The Three Refuges in the original Pali language:
Buddham saranam gacchami (to the Buddha [Buddha nature—the ideal or highest spiritual potential that exists within all beings] for refuge I go)
Dhammam saranam gacchami (to the Dharma [teachings] for refuge I go)
Sangham saranam gacchami (to the Sangha [community] for refuge I go)
Dutiyampi Buddham saranam gacchami (For the second time ... [repeated for each of the three])
Tatiyampi Buddham saranam gacchami (For the third time ... [repeated for each of the three])
At this time, Matt and I want to continue to attend meditations at Against the Stream, so that is what we will do.
So...how do diabetes and Buddhism combine in my life? Diabetes is something that keeps me in the present moment, at each step of my self-care throughout each day. And in caring for myself every day, mindfulness is present as a big ol' smack upside the head. It hurts so good. LOL!
Whew! That's all for now.
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