Reintroduction - Mannitol

I'm starting the reintroduction phase of Low FODMAP.  I'm starting with Mannitols - so that means mushrooms or cauliflower.  

I started last night with 2 tablespoons of mushrooms with chicken, mashed potatoes, and carrots.   So far, so good.  No major symptoms or pains.  Most I could say I have is some dry lips.

But that could be the change in weather or allergies.  I'm still writing it down but don't think it's a problem at all.  I hope Gluten goes this smoothly.

3/3/2021 Check-in (low FODMAP)

 Weight: 202.2

Low FODMAP Meals: 16/21

It's been a miraculous week - I have 10 days pain free without Prednisone.  I had my birthday where I ate what I wanted - Chimichangas (yes!) and cake, Ice Cream Cake, Cannoli, and wine (double yes!).  I didn't go too much overboard - though I did gain 2 pounds - and most of my meals were low FODMAP.

I'm sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I don't know how to trust that my gut is going to be okay for a while.  But we're moving forward with the reintroduction phase and I'll be adding mushrooms to my diet this week.  I have missed them so so much.

Wish me another 7 days with this normal gut!

2/25/2021 Check-in (low FODMAP)

 Weight: 200

Low FODMAP Meals: 19/21

This is crazy to me - last week I was almost in tears to my nutritionist because I was so frustrated.  We agreed to stop the Kiwi the week before last but it didn't really change anything.  I barely finished my lunch on Friday because of gut pain - even though it was just grilled chicken and rice.  Then, all of a sudden, on Saturday it was like a switch was flipped and my gut is calm.

I'm trying not to jinx myself because I have my 40th birthday coming up on Saturday - but maybe I just went through a flare.  I haven't really had a non-pain time period (without Prednisone) to know what exactly a flare feels like, but I think this was it.

Wish me luck this week!

2/18/2021 Check-In (low FODMAP)

Weight: 200.2

Low FODMAP Meals: 19/21

This week I tried Siete Tortilla chips, made with Cassava Flour, and did not have a good reaction to these either.  I'm wondering if it's because they're crispy and maybe my lack of a gall bladder is just not happy with anything fried. 

I'm also questioning whether or not my Humira is still working.  I've noticed that the last two times I've had a dose scheduled, the Sunday before I have increased symptoms.  Maybe it's wearing off too soon or I need a higher dose?  I'm going to see what happens for my scheduled dose on the 24th to see if it's a pattern or just coincidence.

But mostly, I am not seeing any relief from Crohn's.  It's difficult to sleep at night and I'm feeling tired all day.  Then it doesn't matter what I eat, within a half an hour my gut is screaming at me.

2/11/2021 Check-in (low FODMAP)

Weight: 201.4

Low FODMAP Meals: 18/21

Taking out the balanced plate tracking for now.  It should help me focus on low FODMAP better.

This week, I discovered a company called FODY that produces items for a low FODMAP diet.  So I found Salsa and Spaghetti sauce that I can eat - it's made without garlic and onions.  This is making the low FODMAP diet a lot easier to handle.  This week I'm looking forward to trying their Taco Sauce.

I've still been having some stomach issues, but I think it's related to constipation issues.  I've been eating my Kiwi but not seeing a lot of help there and I'm starting to get tired of those little black seeds.

2/4/2021 Check-in (low FODMAP)

 Weight: 203

Low FODMAP Meals: 18/21

Balanced Plate: 7/7

My nutritionist suggested that I start incorporating Kiwi fruit (1x/day for 3x/week) to help with the constipation issues I've been having.  It's apparently a gentle fiber that will help me without adding to my gut pain.  So far, I can't say I've noticed a difference, but my pain level has been very low.

I'm missing Garlic and Onion more than I expected.  I didn't realize how much I was cooking with these spices until I couldn't use them anymore.  It's also made eating out difficult because almost all of the sauces will contain one or both of these.  So when I go out I've been getting plain items - like a steak without butter, or grilled unmarinated chicken.

I found UDI bread at the grocery store and that has helped with sandwiches for lunch.  I've also started getting deliveries from Epicured - a low FODMAP food delivery service.  My biggest complaint is that all of their food is meant to be reheated in the microwave and I don't have one.

1/28/21 Check-In (Low FODMAP)

Weight: 203.5

Low FODMAP Meals: 13/21

Balanced Plate: 6/7

I'm seeing some weight loss.  Probably because I'm not eating bread and I'm actually limiting my portions/calories.  I'm tracking everything in My Fitness Pal so that I can easily reference it.

Which really came in handy because I figured out that Corn Tortilla Chips and I do not get along even though it's a low FODMAP food.  I've been feeling very gassy lately and I'm sure it's because I'm still eating dairy and other items - so maybe it's not just the Corn in the chips that's bothering me.

Low FODMAP Diet - Introduction

I'm starting a slow introduction to the low FODMAP diet with my nutritionist.  The ultimate goal being to identify the foods that irritate my body and set off Crohn's flares so that I can hopefully get back to life without maintenance medicines.  I figured a blog would be a useful place to check in weekly and share my experience with other people who may find themselves in a similar position.  Some metrics I'm going to start out with - weekly weigh-in, how many meals were low FODMAP friendly meals that week, how many days I had at least 1 balanced plate (1/3 each of Protein, Complex Carb. Veggie) for a meal.

Weight: 205.9

Low FODMAP Meals: 8/21

Balanced Plate: 4/7

This week hasn't been terrible.  I am definitely missing bread but I'm looking forward to the future.

2020 in Review

 I feel like I start one of these for every year end, but never seem to finish them and get them posted.  Then when I try to recap later, it all feels irrelevant.  2019 was especially like that - I remember thinking it was such a horrible year and that 2020 would have to be better.  But here we are....

January - The year started out extremely hopeful.  K and I had both come through our end of year 2019 surgeries and were recovering well.  We went on our planned Caribbean Cruise and had an amazing time in clear waters.  

February - I celebrated my 39th Birthday and was looking forward to a fruitful year.  Things seemed to be in a calm place, though we were hearing more and more about COVID-19.

March - I took my last work trip to DC and was worried for two weeks afterwards that I might have gotten sick or passed an illness to one of my family members.  I knew things were serious when Disney shut down its parks. 

April - The only thing that changed for me was limiting dining out and seeing my family.  We all sat tight and did out best to not spread COVID.  My Beetle finally died after 10 years and I had to get a new car.  Otherwise, it was nice to not have to go to an office or travel for work as often.  I was starting to become obsessive with capturing the Maryland COVID numbers though.  Every day I would record the information in my paper journal like it would be some important document for later historians.  

May - If you've read any of this blog before you'll know that May is when my personal world blew up a little.  I was hospitalized and then diagnosed with Crohn's disease shortly before I was laid off at work due to COVID.  Maybe saying it blew up a little is an understatement.

June - I got an amazing offer to work as an independent contractor in New Hampshire for the Summer.  So I started my own company and set off to have an adventure.  It was a beautiful area and the people were incredible, but it was still a little lonely being away from K and my family.

July - Family visits to New Hampshire, which was still relatively free of COVID above the Notches.  It was wonderful to share my good fortune with everyone and give them a breathing space in the middle of the pandemic.

August - Visits to my sister in Boston and interviewing for full time jobs.

September - I was officially hired at a new company and started making my plans to move back home. 

October - I moved back home and started my new job.  I didn't think it was possible to find a company that felt like a better fit - in terms of what I enjoy doing and my skill set.  It has a different feel from the Accounting based company I worked for at the beginning of the year, but is equally as fast paced.

November - With the cold weather coming back, the COVID rates went higher.  It prevented us from getting together with all of the family we wanted to see at Thanksgiving.  But we made it work.

December - This really felt like a blur.  It was limited but we did what we could to celebrate the season.

I would finish with my hopes for the new year but I don't want to jinx anything.  So I'll keep that to myself for the time being.

39th Birthday

This entry has been sitting in my drafts for a while.  I had intended to write a very different entry when I started back in February - but then I didn't have the focus to actually sit down and write it.  I wanted to talk about my hopes and dreams for the year ahead and 2020 has slowly crushed all of those.

Thirty-nine, back  in February, was messing with me in a way that I had no anticipated.  And I expect that Forty is not going to be any easier next year.  In fact, 39 was bothering me so much that I decided I wanted to do a big trip for my 40th.  I thought that maybe it could help distract me from everything I expect I will feel about a milestone birthday.  I decided on Hawaii.

Then COVID started rearing its ugly head in the States and everything changed.  Then I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease in May.  I was also laid off in May due to reduction in business because of COVID. And the hits just keep coming.

 So far, my family has remained healthy and I've found temporary work to keep me afloat while I search for more stable options.  The safety nets put in place for COVID had been extremely beneficial while I've been unemployed.  I've been able to defer my mortgage, student loans, and most of my credit cards until September.  There was additional funding in my unemployment payments until the end of July.  I sincerely hope that Congress gets its act together to extend these benefits for those Americans that still desperately need them.

So 39 has been about surviving.  Here's hoping that 40 brings more sunshine and prosperity.

A Crohn's Story - Part 3: Realities

I've had some realities hit me today in a way that I did not anticipate.  I received my first shipment of Humira from the pharmacy.  I've spent the last few days on the phone with various nurses and PAs talking about what to expect and what I'll need to prepare for my first injection.  But watching all of the training videos and tutorials did not prepare me for the wave of emotion I would feel just unboxing the materials.

It makes it real in a way that nothing else has so far.  My hospital visit, though serious and lonely, still made it feel like it was temporary somehow.  You know, something to get through and then never worry about again - like my other surgeries.  Even the pain I've had since I got out of the hospital seemed short term - live with it until you figure out how to manage it.  But opening this box and realizing I'll have to take this shot every two weeks put it in the same column as Diabetes for me.

Diabetes being something my mother has and has to control through diet and insulin shots.  It's something she'll always have and it's not going to go away entirely.  She's a sick person and the last thing I ever wanted to be was a sick person.  I'm not even sure how else to describe it.

It's real, it's happening, and I don't want it.

A Crohn's Story - Part 2: Diagnosis and Denial

I spent most of the next day waiting for the doctors to tell me when I could be released.  There had been the promise of real food and then the bigger promise of going home if my stomach could handle the food.  So I started with a liquid diet - chicken broth, jello, non-dairy protein drink.   I'd never been so excited for chicken broth in my life.   It stayed down and I stayed pain free.

Then they moved me up to a low-fiber diet.  In this case, it was a grilled chicken sandwich with some roasted carrots.  Again, this was the best chicken sandwich I'd eaten and I didn't even mind the carrots.  They made me wait a full half an hour before agreeing to release me and that was the slowest half an hour of my life.

It felt like Christmas and my birthday all wrapped into one when they finally took the PICC line out.  But that was quickly quelled when the doctors came in to talk to me about Crohn's disease and what to do when I got out of the hospital.

Internally, I was second guessing everything the doctors told me.  I kept trying to think of other things that could be causing my symptoms.  The internet has no end of possibilities for alternate diagnoses and I was convinced that it was a kind of false positive caused by the excessive amounts of Aleve I had been taking for my herniated disk.

I scheduled a second opinion with my dad's GI doctor and he was very patient with me as I asked all of my questions.  He gave me reasonable explanations for why my alternate theories couldn't be an accurate diagnosis and he reviewed the treatment plan laid out by the GI doctor I had in the hospital.  My heart was very heavy at the end of that call - I didn't want to be a "sick" person.

There is a lot of emotional baggage when you're diagnosed with a chronic disease.  The worst was when I read that my condition would be considered pre-existing for most health insurance companies and that I would also be covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 .  There is something about being protected by legislation that made me feel helpless.  Your health, safety, and livelihood can hinge on whichever way the political wind is blowing. (And, yes, I realize I'm coming from a place of privilege when I say this.)

A Crohn's Story - Part I: Pain, Hospital Stay, Potential Diagnosis

To be honest, I'd been worried about stomach pain since November 2019 and my doctor thought it might be IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) but, at the time, it was not as important as getting the herniated disc in my neck fixed.  The pain didn't happen all the time, or even after eating the same foods, so I wasn't too concerned about it myself.

Then around February I started tracking when I had stomach pain in my bullet journal.  I combined this with stepping up food tracking in my Weight Watchers app - to see if I could determine causation.  I was also experiencing severe back pain and trouble sleeping, which I thought was unrelated to the stomach pain.  K and I even went so far as to buy a new mattress to help improve our mutual back problems - his improved and mine did not.  I was thinking I might have another disc problem but in my lumbar this time.

In March and April, I started to see a correlation between bowel movements and stomach pain.  This wasn't really a surprise to me, I've been concerned about not having enough fiber in my diet ever since my gall bladder was removed ten years ago.  So I started stepping up the fiber routine to help with the constipation pain I thought I was having.  Towards the end of April, the stomach/back pain got much worse and I realized they must be related somehow - maybe kidney stones or some kind of infection.  So I scheduled an appointment with my Primary Care Doctor.

But before I could get to my first virtual appointment to address the issue, I had the worst pain I'd experienced since my gall bladder went bust.  It actually felt a lot like that pain, except it was lower in my stomach and radiating out to my back.  I could even time it, like with my gall bladder, and know that within a half an hour of eating I would get an attack of pain.  

After one sleepless Friday night, I went to Urgent Care.  They diagnosed me with GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease) and sent me home with pills to control the acid in my stomach.  I knew it couldn't be GERD, but thought maybe I had an ulcer or something that could be relieved with the stomach acid pills.  They didn't help at all and I spent the next two nights in pain until I finally realized if I stopped eating by 8:30pm I could at least lay down at bedtime.

PICC Line

My doctor sent me for a CT scan and I was willing to pay the out of pocket cost to be seen on Wednesday instead of waiting a week for insurance to approve it.  I have never been so glad I made that decision.  It turns out, I had two abscesses in my intestine and a fistula had formed between them.  My doctor sent me to the ER and I spent the next week waiting to see what the official diagnosis would be.

The doctors at the hospital put me on an antibiotic and a no food/no drink diet.  I had a PICC line inserted into my right arm  - for those that don't know, because I certainly didn't before this happened, it's a tube that is inserted into a vein in your arm (or leg, or neck) that goes all the way to an area near your heart.   So it's important to keep it clean and make sure there aren't any bubbles in the tubing.  There is a fork in the tubing that allows for two points of entry - one was dedicated to TPN (Total Parenteral Nutrition) and the other was used to draw blood or inject medicines. The hospital used this to feed me - using TPN which looked like a weird milkshake in a bag.

TPN is a mixture of sugar (dextrose) for energy and protein (amino acids).  Sometimes they add Fats (lipids), Electrolytes (such as potassium, sodium, calcium, magnesium, chloride, and phosphate are also included), and other vitamins/minerals as needed.  It contains everything a human being needs to survive.  The nursing staff tested my blood regularly to make sure I was getting everything I needed for normal bodily functions and adjusted the mixture from day to day to meet those nutritional goals.  The bag would be delivered every day at 8pm and would run for 24 hours.

TPN Bag

What the TPN did was to allow my bowel to completely rest by not digesting any food at all which, in turn, allowed the abscess to begin to heal.  The first day was pretty miserable because my brain was still sending hunger signals to my stomach, but after a while everything righted itself and I didn't have the feeling of being hungry all the time.  In combination with the hospital no visitor policy,  it made me realize was how much of an event eating food really is.  It's not just about nourishing your body - it's a social event and an activity to stave off boredom all rolled into one.

The whole week was spent mostly alone, except for the doctors and nurses who would stop in, and running all kinds of tests to rule out what was causing the abscess.  My partner, father, and step-father, were all able to drive by and wave to me through the window - K even brought our puppy for a walk where I could see her for Mother's day - but it isn't nearly the same as being able to be in the same room with the people you love.  I know that it was equally as difficult for my family to not be able to visit me and they felt helpless while I was going through all of this.

The Gastrointestinal(GI) Team at the hospital ruled out a troubled appendix very early and mentioned it could be a form of IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) but needed more tests to determine for sure.  I suggested, in vain, that my father had diverticulitis and maybe this was something related.  What I wanted was something that could be treated, healed, and then forgotten - like I'd done with my Gall Bladder, Tonsils, and already the replaced disc in my neck.  What I didn't want was something I'd have to worry about the rest of my life - like diabetes, cancer, or some other disease.

The final procedure to determine my final diagnosis was a Colonoscopy.  For those that have the tremendous fortune to never have been through this process, please count yourselves the luckiest SOBs on the planet.  It's less about the procedure and more about the preparation for it.   I had to drink a gallon of what I can only describe as stagnant seawater that had been filtered through a jock strap and infused with celery.  I'm pretty sure it was straight out of the tank where they kept the Sea Monster in The Shape of Water.  Thankfully, I'd already been on TPN for 6 days and there wasn't a lot to cleanse out of my system. 

The Colonoscopy - about eleven years earlier than I had anticipated having one - wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  There were, however, complications that have now made me impervious to public embarrassment.  My period had started a few days earlier, because of course it did, and I had to use the large medical sanitary pads the hospital had stocked.  So I had to keep my underwear on and then shimmy them down to my ankles right before the procedure in a room.  And, of course, the Colonoscopy team that day was all male.  

Otherwise, it wasn't unlike the outpatient procedures I had for my tonsils, gall bladder, or ACDF surgery.  They wheeled me back, told me they would put me under and to count backwards from 100.  Then the next thing I remember is being wheeled back out to the recovery room to fully wake up.   The nurses in the recovery room were very attentive and kind.  They offered me a ton of literature on IBD - specifically Crohn's Disease -  and a low-residue diet. So this was the first confirmation that I was going to be diagnosed with Crohn's and it felt like being blindsided even though the GI team had mentioned it as one of the items they wanted to test for. 

The doctors has taken a piece of tissue during the Colonoscopy to biopsy - because that was the only way to definitively diagnose Crohn's Disease.  I held onto that for the rest of my hospital stay - hoping and praying that the biopsy would show something else and we'd have to cross Crohn's off the list.  Unfortunately, I didn't get the official diagnosis until two weeks later when I went for my follow-up exam at the GI's office.  Even then, I insisted on a second opinion to be sure.

Weirdness

Things are weird - I feel manic and in denial and calm all at the same time.  May has been a weird month for me, for all of us I am sure.  But for me, I found myself hospitalized and isolated from family and friends for a full week.  Then I was part of a reduction in force at work, which has left me scrambling to update my resume and reach out to my professional network.

I've been making lists about what I need to do to hit the job search running.  All the while it feels like it's not real and I'm just on vacation.  Sadness creeps in when I think about how much I loved that job.  Then I feel like things are kind of okay because people are already reaching out with possible job opportunities in the same field.  And then I feel a bit of panic around paying bills and what the future will bring for medications.  

I keep having dreams that I'm late for work, so it doesn't feel real yet.  I've been trying to stay positive and find silver linings where I can.  Today's non-scale victory, as weight watchers calls it, was fitting into a size 12 again.  The Barbie dress I bought and wanted to wear to the work party in December finally zips up and isn't tainted with a bittersweet memory.  It's waiting for an event.

It makes me worried about my next flair up though - if the diagnosis is correct, I'll be dealing with this for a long time.  I'd been bitching about how I'd lost 25 pounds and not dropped a dress size and I think what must have happened was that my belly was so distended I didn't notice a difference.  Since I've been home, I've lost another 5 pounds and the change in my body is significant.  So I must have been accepting bloating and pain as normal when it clearly was not.  I did the same thing when my disc herniated in my neck - kept ignoring the red flags my body was sending out until it reached a critical state.  So how do I recognize the warning signs for the next time?

Hospitals in the Time of COVID-19

I've just spent the last week in isolation in a hospital.  I was, thankfully, not there due to COVID-19 but no outside visitors were allowed as a safety precaution.  I can count on one hand the number of times I've been hospitalized - once for overnight observation after my SCUBA accident and once over the weekend when my tonsils abscessed.  Each time, the stay was made easier by the cheerful faces of family and friends.

This time started much like the visit for my tonsils - I had pain that I sought medical attention to resolve and was blindsided with a much bigger problem than expected.  This time, I'd been experiencing pain in my abdomen that steadily got worse until I could no longer sleep or sit comfortably.  It felt so much like my gall bladder attacks ten years ago, I wondered if it was possible to develop stones without one.  My primary care doctor sent me for a CT scan with contrast where they discovered an abscess in my small intestine.  The radiologist was concerned it might be my appendix - and I was really hoping for the trifecta of tonsils, gall bladder, appendix - and called my doctor immediately.  They agreed it was a serious cause for concern and told me to get to the ER as quickly as possible.

When I arrived at the ER, the staff asked me the usual questions but also if I'd traveled outside of the country recently or had COVID symptoms.  The waiting room was divided up with a giant plastic sheet down the middle.  COVID patients sat on one side and everyone else on the other.  When it was determined that I would need to be admitted to the hospital, the nursing staff administered a COVID test to determine where I could be placed.  They had isolation rooms set up to handle COVID patients on each floor.

First the nurse had to suit up in protective gear - a full cover over her clothes, face shield, gloves, and mask - then she pulled out a long swab with what felt like porcupine bristles on the end.  This went up my nose further than I was really comfortable with and I had an involuntary reaction where I pushed the nurses hand away.  Which, of course, only meant she had to do it again.  This time when they scraped it across my brain I focused all my energy into remaining very still.  Within an hour, they had the test results (negative) and I was able to be moved to the seventh floor.

Being admitted to the hospital right now is both the best and worst thing to happen.  It's good because you know the doctors and nurses are going to do everything they can to resolve the problem you're having and IF something goes terribly wrong you're in the right place.  It's bad because there is the concern for contamination and no visitors are allowed except under the most dire of circumstances.  So I was there for the longest stay of my life without much of anything to look forward to.

The nurses had to tend to both COVID and Non-COVID patients, so it took a little longer sometimes for them to answer my call button if they were in an isolation room.  This was due largely to the fact that they would have to take off the PPE equipment before they could leave the isolation room and then done a fresh set before entering my room.  I never saw the face of anyone that took care of me - they were always wearing a mask and sometimes a protective shield.  For my part, I tried to only call when truly needed because I didn't want to add to their burden.

But for everything that the doctors and nurses had to deal with, they were always pleasant and always kind.  They explained things clearly and made sure I knew exactly what to expect at all times.  My nurses would also try to stay a little longer and chat with me to make sure I was doing okay.  They completely understood the healing value of human interaction and tried to compensate for the no visitor policy whenever possible.  Some of the staff told me they were isolated from their families, too.  Trying to make sure they didn't carry anything home with them at night.  So I hope that I was able to help them feel a little more connected too.

My stay in the hospital brought the COVID pandemic into perspective for me.  I was already social distancing and wearing my mask, but interacting with the people on the front lines made it real for me in a way that nothing else could.  Now that I'm home, I'm continuing to wear my mask and wash my hands.  I'm keeping six feet away when I do have to go out, not for me necessarily but for the men and women sacrificing their family time to take care of patients.  If I can keep someone else from getting sick and ending up in the hospital, I'll have done my part to make things a little bit easier in this time of COVID.

National Novel Writing Month - Day #1

The first day of NANO has gone surprisingly well.  I downloaded the free version of Scrivener they're promoting and organized all of last year's notes.  This took a little bit of time to learn how to use the system and then get everything set up.  I still have some fine tuning to do when I get home later.

Even with this additional set of tasks on the first day of NANO, I was still able to add about 2,000 to my draft from last year.  I was very much surprised at how much research had gone into the rough draft last year and at how much I'd forgotten in the mean time.

I am determined to focus on Milady's backstory this go round but I'm finding that very difficult right now.  There are so many options to explain why she behaves the way she does in the original novel.  Not to mention I could completely rewrite her actions and not keep as close to the original.  I mean it is an alternate point of view after all, shouldn't it truly all be from her perspective where she's the good guy?

Weight Watchers - Day#1

Daily Points:32/30
Daily Calories: 1,338/1500
Weight: 215.7lbs
Age: 36.66 years

Starting with Weight Watchers again.  Last time I was not as committed to losing weight so, even though I've had my greatest success with WW, I did not achieve my goals.  I have to remember the 50 pounds I lost when I first joined and how I was so motivated to get to my goal.  I was 28 and didn't want to be overweight at 30.  I did so well keeping it off until I went back to school and the job got more stressful.  Now, I want to be in a healthy place when I'm ready to have a kid and I don't want to be overweight at 40.  So I need to hold onto that motivation - or at the very least, I need to track everyday regardless of whether it's good or bad.

I need to consider that I might be attempting to do too much this month with starting weight watchers right before the holidays AND National Novel Writing Month.  But so far, I'm feeling positive about the experience.  Estimated my dinner points and discovered I have more than half to use at lunch time.  I've scheduled a work out time with a co-worker for tomorrow and we're committing to going at least twice a week.  Last time I only focused on changing eating habits and not on working out.  So that is also another item on my plate that could prove to be overwhelming.

Overall, I am pleased with my first day even though I dipped into my weekly points a little bit.  When I compare it with calories, I am definitely below the goal I'd set My Fitness Pal.  I'm curious to see how points compare to calories but have the feeling I'll find tracking in two apps tedious.

20th Anniversary of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Twenty years ago today, the world was introduced to one of the most amazing pieces of fiction.  My life since Harry Potter was first published has been one of constant denial.  For starters, I refused to read the books when they were first being published.  I am not the kind of person who likes to be caught up in a mania and, at the time, the idea of adults bewitched by children's literature seemed absurd to me.  Then, when I finally did cave in and submit to the incredible phenomenon that was

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (or the Sorcerer's Stone in the States), I refused to accept that I would be sorted into Hufflepuff.  Didn't I have the heart of a Gryffindor after all?

My first refusal was quickly overturned when my retail establishment started carrying Harry Potter merchandise and I was hopelessly lost in trying to up-sell items to my customers.  I was able to fake it for a while, but I knew I would have to read at least one of the books if I wanted to continue to be successful in my job.  I decided to read only one book and, as fate would have it, a child had left behind their copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.  After a few weeks, when no one came back to claim the book, I decided to borrow it. . . for research purposes only.  Once read, I couldn't believe I'd waited three years to discover this magical world and quickly devoured all the other available titles.  Like so many others, I anxiously awaited the release of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and then I shushed those who would spoil the secrets it held.  For a self-proclaimed literary nerd, it was an exciting time.

My second refusal has been much longer in resolving itself.  For 17 years, I've taken every possible fan-made test available in a attempt to be sorted into a different house.  Then in 2012, I received the definitive sorting on Pottermore and grudgingly realized that I was and would always be a Hufflepuff but I never accepted it in my heart of hearts.  To me, the Hufflepuff seemed the weakest of the houses without any majorly defining characteristics.  You have to admit that the sorting hat song - Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot and treat them just the same." - sounds an awful lot like being picked last in gym class.  

But as I have grown into adulthood, I've come to realize that Hufflepuff is actually one of the strongest houses.  It's incredibly easy to pick friends or sides when the world is seen in definite terms -  Ravenclaw wants the smartest people, Slytherin the most ambitious, and Gryffindor the bravest.   The real difficulty is in seeing that the world cannot be clearly defined and that there are multiple points of view for almost every issue.  Navigating these waters where dedication, loyalty, and fair play are valued above all else is incredibly treacherous.   It's also extremely tiresome and draining on an individual.  For not only is the world a muddled mess but one can see that everyone's opinion has value.  Whether you agree with that value or not is a different story. 

Camp NaNoWriMo Week#1

On most Sundays, Milady went to a local Church and offered up her prayers to a silent God.  It was not for herself that she maintained her childhood ritual, for she knew she had been lost long ago to that glittering afterlife.  Somewhere on the grounds of a convent, in a far flung corner of France, there was a grave stone that bore the name of Madeleine de Caumont.  She did not have to see it to know that it was cut from the finest granite that was available in Bearn or even that there was no other ornamentation, save the cross, above the letters.  Her parents would have provided the cost of the funeral and may have even attended, but only the old priest knew for sure if the grave lay empty or if, as Milady expected, a nameless pauper was there in her stead.  After all, he was always economical if nothing else.  The only truth on that piece of rock would be the spelling of her real name and the date of her birth.

No matter the doubts that crowded her mind about the ancient mythology of the Church, she could not stop herself from praying on the Sabbath for the soul of her lost child.  On the off chance that all the priests’ lessons were true, she could not risk abandoning her innocent angel to an eternity of waiting.  Whether her soul had gone to purgatory or had been winked out of existence with the child’s last breath there was never a reason to pay homage to that tiny stone in the corner of the yard.  For Milady it was only the small body of her child under the ground. 

Did her mother talk to the air and imagine that somehow her earthbound words could be heard just as Milady often did for her own child?  She often thought of her parents and wondered if they went to visit her at the false grave.  Did her mother pray for the soul of her daughter in purgatory and pay the indulgences to the church for her child’s speedy release into heaven?  If this were true, did the old priest feel the weight of his own guilt when he received her purse?

Perhaps her own mother’s wasted efforts could count toward her unknown granddaughter.  Perhaps, her mother prayed for the baby too.  Knowing the torment she had felt over a daughter she had only held for a day, she could only imagine what her mother felt over the loss of a sixteen year old daughter.  But Milady imagined that the shame surrounding her premarital circumstances were enough for her mother to be glad she could not torment them any longer even if it meant the loss of her companionship.

If the old priest had not offered her an escape from that shame, what would have become of her?  Milady was never meant to live a penitent life and a finite existence within the walls of a nunnery.  The daily routine and silence would have driven Milady insane even now in the maturity of her years.  The priest had had enough experience with novitiates to recognize when a woman was not meant for the cloistered life.   He had also worked with the Cardinal long enough to know the type of personalities he would readily employee for his clandestine affairs.  Of course, all of this was irrelevant now and she only entertained these thoughts when her own earnest prayers had concluded well in advance of the minister’s.

Milady’s first real mission after entering the Cardinal’s service was to seduce and marry the Comte de la Fere.  His lands and influence in the south of France were very important to the Cardinal in the preparation for war against their neighbor, Spain.  She was to use her feminine wiles to sway the Comte in support of the Cardinal and his scheme against the Queen.  If that failed, her instructions were to provide an heir who could be easily controlled after the untimely death of his father until he reached his maturity. 

To Milady, there could be no simpler task.  Men often responded very well to her and with all she had learned under the Cardinal’s tutelage she set off for Sauveterre-de-Béarn with a confidence that could not be shaken.  Indeed, Milady was successful in her attempts and she was soon wed to the Comte de la Fere.   What she had not accounted for in all her careful planning was that she might fall under the Comte’s spell in return.

He was a young man of about 22, just come into his inheritance, and confident as the day is long.  Armand, for that was his Christian name, had untidy brown hair that always found a way to hang directly in his line of vision.  He was often seen brushing it away from his dark brown eyes only to have it fall back into the exact same spot.  He was lithe and quick with the sword – a superior opponent for anyone willing to challenge him.  A great horseman on top of that would have been enough to make him an excellent soldier, but his fortune served as a buffer to those realities and he had not been called on to defend his King’s name. 

Her husband was never sympathetic to the Cardinal’s schemes let alone one against her majesty Queen Anne.  His lands were part of her territories and he refused to betray this great lady to such a villain as the Cardinal.  His description of the Cardinal had stung Milady at first.  For the Cardinal had given her everything she’d ever wanted and it was difficult for her to see him in a negative light.  The Cardinal’s interests were those of France after all.  No matter what angle she tried, she was unable to convince her husband that these schemes were worth his support.

Her attempts had become more desperate when she realized she was pregnant with Armand’s child.  She had hoped for more time to work with him before such an event but their passion for one another had escalated the situation beyond her control.  She had not yet felt the quickening but she knew that a child had begun to grow in her womb.  Her symptoms had been the same as before, but there was no doubting them this time.  Milady again found her pregnancy bittersweet but not because of her husband’s reaction.  Where her last lover had seen it as a burden she alone must endure, her husband had arranged a picnic by the Gave d'Oloron to celebrate.

They had arrived by the water’s edge around midday and everything had been prearranged by his servants who were now conveniently absent.  They ate their meal of cold pheasant and cheese with freshly picked figs.  When they were done, Armand presented her with a box.  Inside was one of the most gorgeous rings she had ever seen.  It was an old family heirloom, he had said, it had belonged to his mother and it was the most precious thing he owned that he could give to her.  He wanted her to wear it from now on because, with the birth of their first child, she would be the one carrying his family name forward into the next generation.  In doing this, she was giving him the most precious gift he could imagine.

She had thrown her arms around him and they’d tumbled over the empty basket and down the grassy hill a short way.  She had kissed him deeply for all of the things that he had said and for being so different from any other man she had ever known.  They made love by the river and spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms dreaming of their future together.  It was only when the sun began to wane in the sky above that he called for the servants to pack up the remains of their meal and take it back to the chateau. 

Even with everything that would come to pass, Milady could think back on this afternoon with pleasure.  She would disconnect it from the man Armand had since become in her mind and pretend that the beautiful future they had dreamed together was still possible somewhere.  Though the man he proved himself to be had destroyed all of those possibilities.

The Cardinal had not been pleased with her husband’s refusal to acquiesce to his plan but he had been very pleased with Milady when he had learned of her pregnancy.  In the Cardinal’s mind his servant was carrying out his contingency plan.  In truth, Milady was trying to find a way out of the Cardinal’s snare.

It was not long after their romantic picnic that Milady and Armand decided to take a ride through his country estate.  They had visited with a few of the farmers to discuss the current growth season.  Milady goaded her horse into a run with her husband not far behind and soon they were racing towards home.  It was then that tragedy struck the young couple and the Comte de la Fere’s true nature had been revealed to her.

Milady’s horse had been spooked by something in the road and reared up throwing her to the ground.  She was knocked unconscious in the fall and he husband had raced to her side in a panic.  His first concern was for her and he cut the lacing from her corset without a second thought.  The child, he knew, could not have survived the fall and he had to make sure that she survived.  It was as he was trying to revive her that he noticed the fleur de lis branded on her shoulder.  How had he not seen it before, he wondered.  In all of their love making together, how had it been obscured from him.  He rubbed the mark with his thumb to be sure and there was no doubt left in his mind that it was real.

When Milady came to a few minutes later, the look on her husband’s face was enough for her blood to run cold.  She pulled her dress back up on to her shoulder’s and realized what he must have seen in her unconsciousness.  His face was red with rage and he shook her so hard she thought her head would fall from her shoulders.

“Armand,” she had pleaded, “you do not understand.”

“I understand,” he shot back, “that my wife, MY WIFE, has lied to me about who she really is.”  

“It is complicated,” she began again.

“No, it’s really not.  Everything that you have ever said to me has been false.”

“No, not everything,” tears ran down Milady’s face, “I do love you.” 

“SILENCE,” he screamed, “I will not allow you to persist in this lie.”  While she had been unconscious, the Comte had been to his horse to retrieve a length of rope.  It had been fashioned into a noose and looped around the nearest tree.  When Milady saw it she began to fight back with a ferocity her husband had not known was even possible.  She kicked his legs out from under him so that he fell flat on his back. She was up and scrambling to make purchase with the ground when the Comte de La Fere grabbed ahold of Milady by the roots of her hair.  He pulled her in this fashion to the side of the road nearest the tree.

“Mercy,” she gasped.  “Mercy, my lord.”

“Did you show mercy to your victim?  To the one that earned you that brand?”

“Mercy, please I beg of you,” she pleaded, “If our love meant anything to you, please have mercy.”

“It meant everything to me but your intentions are clearly known. How long did I have until I was your next victim?”  He pulled her close to his face and stared into her eyes trying to penetrate her very soul.  He found what he knew would be there, that knowledge that he had been marked for death long before they’d met.  “Would I have lived long enough to see my child?”

“I was going to find a way,” fresh tears sprang from her eyes and all of her fight disappeared.   “I would never have hurt you!”

“It is my duty to see that your sentence is carried out and no one else suffers at your hands.”  He placed the rope around her neck and pulled it tight.

Crawling back to the Cardinal had been easy after that.  When the man you loved hangs you from a tree and leaves you for dead, it is easy to believe that all men are treacherous and deserve whatever end they meet.  The Cardinal has sent his best assassins after that and the hole in her heart served as a reminder to never be that foolish again.

Weight Loss V.2 2017

In February, my doctor called my bluff and said he wanted to see me in six months to check on my weight loss goals.  It was definitely the kick in the pants I needed to start taking my 2017 new year's goal of "be healthier" seriously.  I spent about two weeks trying to track and watch my macro nutrients on My Fitness Pal.  This is an excellent app and I will definitely use it again in the future but I just didn't have the will power to manage calories and watch the fat, sugars, sodium, etc.

So two weeks ago, I took advantage of the Weight Watchers online sale and used some of my work bonus to sign up for 3 months.  I have been more conscious of tracking and the items I'm tracking since I started back.  There have been a few changes - the 0 point smoothies I used to love now have to be calculated differently - but so far it's been an easier transition than I remembered from my first membership in 2010.

The website itself has lost some functionality but still covers the basic necessities.  I don't find it as easy to research a particular restaurant or view my list of favorites when making last minute decisions.  But having to plan a little more in advance forces me to make better decisions in the long run. On the positive side, they put a lot of effort into making sure the online customers get the same support one would in a face to face meeting.  So I am confident that this will be the extra bit I need to be successful.