A Berry Intense Smoothie for a Berry Berry Intense Day

Today was some day. I don't have as many bad days as you suspect. Not anymore. But it was some day.

I don't let poor health define a bad day, otherwise, I'd have them commit me where in a place where I can stare at barred windows, eat my green jello, and swallow Haldol everyday. Sad days aren't necessarily bad either, until its sad news with effects of a shelf-life lasting more than 12 hours. Lupus is not a reason to be down every day.  At least I'm here typing and not dictating narrative through a computer mouthpiece like Steven Hawking's. I accept the disease. What I don't accept... is the monarchical insurance business doing whatever the hell they want with my money and health!

No, a certifiable bad day means when I've been done wrong.  When the rage monster kicks in.  When I have no control over situations that are, for lack of a more refined word, idiotic.

Continuing my Russian novel about this Interstitial Cystitis ordeal that has already been irresponsibly delayed about eight days, now the "procedure" will have to be postponed another 10-plus days.  Coventry Insurance requires a 10-day Authorization wait. The waiting period to purchase a fire arm in Florida is 3 days! Be grateful you cannot see the vein gorging out from my forehead. I had already stopped taking the Tylenol/Percocet pain killers I need to tolerate my job. One would argue, "But its only been one day!". Then I would refute, but I woke up this morning feeling like I was kicked and beaten down by Crips and Bloods, causing me to arrive late to the job funding my "procedure", that the kind people at Coventry told me is covered, but they may or may not pay it at the time of the claim.

Since this ordeal started, I have had to get off a natural detoxification/lymphatic drainage treatment that was improving my health wonderfully.  Pain and inflammation still occurred, but my days were increasingly manageable and gearing up to the second phase, immune suppresion.  Now I'm off the treatment, running out of pain medication, running out of budget, and getting to work late most mornings. I'm sure everyone suspects this, but let me reiterate how hard it is to think straight when you're in severe pain!  And yes, I'm accentuating consonants to the point that the keyboard is spitting! Loud Noises!

*stops to take a deep breath and create a multi-sensory happy place*

Well, what's done is done. The bout of anger in me is going to have to put on the dunce cap, because being upset creates more headaches, exhaustion, and 'poofy face'. I'll handle this tomorrow and see what my options are.

For today, I must rise above my BF (b*tch fit), take care of myself, and center my whacked out chi.  When I cannot take anymore narcotics for inflammation, food is my medicine.

Let thy food be thy medicine.  -Hippocrates

I try to include anti-inflammatory foods in all my meals with the exception of occasional sliding.  With ruffled feathers, I marched myself into Walmart and started immediately calming down as I found myself selecting healing foods.  Usually I take the time to bargain shop, buy seasonally, get whats on sale. Today I went straight to the frozen section (No cans. I'm not sure why, but I can't tolerate canned foods.) where everything was in one isle, loaded up the cart. I hastily needed to dine on berries, get a little boost, and get to move my joints freely! No serious chopping required.

I had gotten the idea and reminder to eat smart from this well-informed blogger earlier. I will be making a Fatigue Fightin' Smoothie similar to hers in that it's made with fruits packed with antioxidants and other amazing properties. It will be experimental because I loved her spinach idea! Just add fat-free plain greek yogurt and ice:

http://hersilverlining.blogspot.com/2010/12/fatigue-fightin-smoothies.html

But here are the ones I bought, and I did the work for you if you want to know what are their beneficial properties. I always look up a fruit when I'm enjoying it. Oh Poo! I forgot the kiwis. Without further ado, Fruity Fruits!:



Strawberries (I lied, I got these got in produce, on sale, and left the frozen bag in the fruit area. That ain't right.):

http://www.naturalfoodbenefits.com/display.asp?CAT=1&ID=65

Blueberries:

http://www.naturalfoodbenefits.com/display.asp?CAT=1&ID=25

Blackberries:

http://www.antioxidants-guide.com/health_benefit_of_blackberries.html

Cherries:

http://www.cherrieshealthbenefits.com/

Raspberries:

http://www.naturalfoodbenefits.com/display.asp?CAT=1&ID=40

The wild card, Spinach:

http://www.examiner.com/natural-health-in-tulsa/healing-with-foods-spinach


As you read (if you curiously explored the links), all the fruits ending in 'ies' are chock-full of home remedies.  You don't have to be ill to benefit highly from a blend of berries.  If you're extra tired lately, suspect chronic fatigue syndrome, suffer headaches, have arthritis, bursitis, or any autoimmune condition, it will only make life easier to drink these more regularly.  As a matter of fact, if you need more energy, drop all white bread and white rice, and if you're really intent on getting healthy, all bread and wheat products for a few days so that the fruits and veggies can start working through your blood, muscles, and joints without interference.  Had I not been sticking a healthy diet, I would've been incarcerated for assault and battery to innocent bystanders after today's emotional frustrations.  But after being on a doctor-ordered anti-inflammatory diet, hard situations are a little bit clearer and easier to put in perspective.

I leave you with that. Off to do some zenful Classical Stretch.

*Later that night:





[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="174" caption="Fightin Fatigue Smoothie"][/caption]

In a Dewar's glass none the less. It was rich and delicious. I used less yogurt, 2 large tablespoons. No spinachy taste, but all the Popeye'd benefits. It was delish! I'll put Robeks out of business.

Naughty Talk from a Good Girl

Thursday I have a procedure to get done.  I'm not sure if its considered surgery, so we'll leave it at procedure. A few posts ago I talked about what led to this ridiculous adventure. Earlier today, the surgery scheduler called to instruct me to drop all aspirin and blood thinners immediately.  I couldn't choke her over the phone, so I obediently surrendered and obliged. Why did I have a brain spasm? Because that means the remainder of this week I have to survive work without my increasingly beloved Perky-cet, which contains Tylenol.  I don't fear a dependence of it. No seizures or foaming of at mouth are noted.  Yet.  But to sit eight hours on the cheapest desk chair Office Max can manufacture, while my inflamed spine reminds me I don't love myself, scares me so much I could pee myself.  Incidentally, this "procedure" is to prevent exactly that that never happens.

There's a horrible cycle going on here. Working full-time aggravates my condition. I must work to cover my health bills. My health bills probably causes hemorrhoids. My butt hates my job. You see how it has no start, nor end.

*No, I don't have hemorrhoids, because if I really did, I probably wouldn't even joke about it on the internet. I have boundaries, you know? And furthermore, to better cope with the delicate subject area, I'd change the name into something absolutely adorable. Like Poopy-itis.

So yes, today has been a relatively manageable day, but the usual caution of overloading my immune system has gone into the trepidation zone.  I have to carefully pace my day so that I may wake up tomorrow feeling like a normal snap-crackle-and-pop 60 year old, rather than a coiled up 95 year old. And then hold those compliant cells until the end of the week.  I'm feeding myself blood-boosting smoothies and taking many sitting breaks in between standing tasks in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, my only defense against pain in the direct area of concern is a pill that makes my urine blue. Add that to the vegetable power drink I'm having and what do you get?: blue pee and green poo!

I've always said I needed more color in my life.

I apologize to the squeamish disturbed by such inappropriate talk.

For you women who are married to a man, this is nothing. We are insensitive to bodily function humor. Pillow talk is what it is.

Giggly Truth Serum Confessions

Launching a personal blog is a daunting action.  Most writing usually uncovers pieces of the author's core, but no matter what approach to manipulate a particular picture of how you want people to perceive you, the truth of who you truly are still glimmers through.  I could have chosen not advertise my story to the public, bypassing the announcement to friends and some acquaintances.  They only would've found out about it if they are avid internet surfers or if in ten years this website boomed.  I thought about it long and hard before I set on this bold move of being a little more transparent than the lock-down mode I'd been settling into.  Right before I shared it, I called a family member and Husband for opinions.  I was nervous about the repercussions.  Reporting information and/or stories always create an emotional response, opinions, or critics.  To make this work, I knew it would require a bit of private exposition unless it was purely factual.  And well, it's not.

But let me tell you, I don't regret the decision.   The conversation with Husband went something like: We know the situation. We're handling it. You're not planning to live a hidden life of illness.  But you've been a closed book, even with friends.  It felt like a secret.  It even meant rejecting sympathy when I honestly needed it. Everytime I had to explain someone I've been less social or MIA because I was sick, it was like admitting a horrible shame.  My positive outlook toward cope was limited so long as I postponed a genuine explanation, instead of letting it fester on the tip of my tongue.

I said a little prayer and hit send on notifications to all, rather than to complete strangers. Every muscle temporarily froze. So soon after tracking the readers' traffic chart that this website generates, I stopped checking it every two minutes. Slowly, the tension in my shoulders released and my lungs remembered to expand deeper.  It played out almost like a confession. I didn't have to go into detail; I didn't have to go over this long saga of what's been leading up to this day for so long, but I embraced my reality fully. By the next day, I was catching up with friends that I had reduced contact with for fear of mine and their reaction to this news.

This week - health-wise - has been stupid; however, I've been spunkier and more productive than usual.  Not necessarily more physically active, but mentally and emotionally.  Without the burden of trying to conceal that I'm not the firecracker I once was, I was free to talk about other things going on in life and smile easier; despite subtle aches roaming in the body. I felt lighter and lighter as I stopped giving the problem so much attention and focusing on relationships and goals.

Last night, I watched Knight and Day on DVD.  At some point in the movie, Cameron Diaz is administered a truth serum.  It was some experimental technology that made her laugh and enjoy spitting out thoughts on the forefront. I thought to myself, "This is what it felt like this weekend". No, it is not the Percocet talking. The half- tablet is not that powerful.  I exposed myself a little bit, although of course, just a few aspects of life, not all. I reconnected with friends. I'm doing it through one of my favorite mediums: writing.  And I received an overwhelming understanding and awesome response.  It's off my chest.  I feel I've that I've man-handled a huge part of the challenge life has thrown at us.

All this is very mushy and layered. Normally, I would prefer to twist this into some form of sarcastic humor, but as long as I'm in the spirit of motivation, I'm gonna suck it up and continue sounding like a self-help book for another paragraph.  This might be a personal experience, but like I've said before, I share to relate.  I hope other people, especially younguns or withdrawn ones who are very aware of this critical and harsh world, can find ways to express themselves. Keeping things bottled in only create stress, a confused heart, a conflicted mind, and constipation. Not out of proportion either. Listing every emotion on a Facebook status is NOT healthy.  There is a balance of knowing who, when, how, and how much, to share. But it's so liberating, and even surprising, how being genuine and truthful can grow confidence.  It took me a while to come clean, but now I have a buzzing giddiness to brag about, and more space to welcome more challenges.