while the cat* is away…

…the mouse* will:

  • eat red onions.  The cat won’t go near me if I enjoy a Greek wrap in his presence.
  • wear skimpy clothes.  Ironic, you may think. But this is the only time I control the AC.  Tropical weather it is! He wants to see skin, he can relinquish the power of the thermostat. Otherwise, it’s, unapologetically, Eskimo lounge wear when he’s in town.
  • follow sequences.  Uninterrupted. It’s like cat who wraps around you and meows and sits on your book and when you finally divert your full attention to him and exclaim “what!”, it just purrs. Possibly laughing at you.
  • blare folk, brit-pop, alternative, indie, world, all those genres of music that don’t have humans shredding their vocal cords or bopping into a shamanic schizophrenic trance.
  • make all vegan meals! He is special. He will eat my vegan meals, but then will want one every hour because his body metabolizes plants faster than teens go through mood swings.  And who gets to be in the kitchen all night?
  • not cook.
  • read. I just can’t read when he’s here unless he’s next to me in bed reading. And let’s be real, his print of preferences are import car magazines with lots of pictures.
  • watch TV.  If he’s in the main house level, I have to pause my shows until he climbs downstairs or he gets stuck in a televised reality and has to stand there – not sit, stand – and watch with his mouth open, begging for me to release him.
  • clean the floor and keep it that way. And door handles.
  • do yoga. Try doing yoga when a man is thundering about the house, wondering where this is, and where that might be, and “whoa, i’d downward dog you” comments. Not very chi. Not even a little bit.

My point to this entry is to give you this…..do it.  When you’re alone, when it rains outside, when you’ve had a long day, when you need to skip the gym, when you miss your husband.  My favorite:

*Cat = Husband

*Mouse = Wife

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Filed under Housewifing, Picture of Health, Random

Lupus No More, and the secret of maintenance

I’m not gonna lie. The title is shamelessly pretentious simply to generate readers.  There is no known cure to lupus, and as far as my Chinese Traditional Medicine diagnosis goes, it’s not even considered lupus.  Only Western docs would say that.

It’s been 3 years. I’m getting healthier. It started at a turtle pace, but it’s progressed to a snail on Red Bull.  Acupuncture was given to me by the Gods, and I’ve been steady for one month at the gym, the haven that used to be my second home. Don’t get me wrong… it’s exhausting.  It’s a delicate balance that this (this being me) delicate porcelain doll lives in.  I have no life. I have no money. I have no time. This is what it takes to maintain my sanity and health.  But it’s what I sacrifice to be active, fit, well fed, and looking like a girl. Somewhat.  Some days it comes down to the decision whether to have a friend or do a few leg presses, the cost of a pretty necklace or organic celery, stealing a nap or making a green juice, comfortable old lady shoes or normal vixen heels, a midnight cookie snack or a starving belly, a surrender at Taco Bell or making my own 60 minute fast food versions.  But I balance these things to keep me in motion. I used to have 80/20 days. 80% bad, 20% tolerable.  I’m probably at 50/50 if not better. Whaaaat?

The secret is blood flow.  The lifeforce, the chi, the unblocking and purification from this polluted and suffocating environment that is America and other mass consumer countries.

What I’m saying is, if you have been suffering with lupus or another chronic autoimmune disease, chronic fatigue, find a local barefoot acupuncturist that has feng shui’d her office, has a babbling fountain and plays plinkety-plankety music, and start paying her regular visits and buying her silly knick-knacks of grateful praise every few months.  Please. One year later, and bam…you’ll be a human again.  Granted, it takes some endurance and faith, but it’s either that or staying in pain and misery without progress.

So, here are the few things I need for the daily ying and yang.  Some are bargains, some are expensive, but they will smother us with benefits not afforded without search, trial, and error. I cannot express how much I value these things, not only because they sustain me, but because there are so few opportunities in this greed-saturated consumerist world, that quality has been stripped of the things we eat, live, and breathe.  I’ve always been seeking nature and truth, but had I not become gravely ill due to this man-forsaken environment, would I have studied and practice the depths of what it means to nourish a soul?

Youfit Health Club - the Gym. Oh my gym.  For $10 a month, $30 a year, and month-to-month contract, I had no choice but to sign up. Even if I only went for the smell of socks and stale sweat! I thought I would only survive one shameful visit a month, because all the other health programs I’ve tried at home have not challenged me, while at the same time circumventing all the limitations of my disease.  I went once last month, and haven’t stopped since.  I slowly, oh so carefully, built up strength and endurance.  And now I do everything I can not to kiss the dirty mats when I walk in.  I want to talk to every older and overweight person and say, “Yes, I know it’s hard, but here we are! We can do this!” I am overcome with my second chance to be athletic once more! Even if I never get back to the marathoner and weight lifter I hoped to be, you will find me at the gym with all the joint-friendly weight and cardio machines, awkwardly trying to adjust the seating to midget size with a deranged smile of ecstasy while I pump some muscle. I recommend this to everyone, and their mom! …. P.S. Same owner as Planet Fitness in other states.

Latex Stretch Bands – After my whole spiel about being fit, I have no choice but to proclaim the paramount emphasis of stretching. I learned the hard way, after years of boasting I was a supernatural freak of nature and required no stretching.  Everyone needs to do it. Even Michael Phelps. Especially  Michael Phelps.  Because if you want to, not only prevent from injury, but increase blood flow to wonderfully sore muscles just waiting to juice up, you need to invite the blood there.  And for all the twisting, contorting, and yoga-ish moves I tried to alleviate all the messed up joints and inflamed muscles and misplaced fascia..nothing has taken my healing and re-boning, if you will, like these little bands.  I tied them up to something sturdy and just hang there (in a proper position taught my manuals and youtube).  Like I said, it’s high maintenance if you have poor health and bloodflow. You need to help it.  I spend more time than I’d like doing this, but afterward I feel like Mr. Stretch.  Doesn’t hurt in the whoopie department either. Wink, wink.

   

Charlie’s Laundry Soap and Hardwater Booster – Godsent! Non-toxic, allergen free, and purer and cleaner than anything you can find at a frickin Target or Walmart.  These are two products I’m mentioning.  I bought both, highly skeptical of anything new and expecting new fun reactions to blindly and newly approved FDA chemicals tested on baby fetuses.  One hand ready to call and complain to the company, I can’t believe I haven’t ever heard of this before.  My clothes came out cleaner and softer than ever, and I have been able to stop paying exorbitant prices for natural dryer sheets (that were still essentially chemical poo storms)!  It makes me want to do the laundry every day. And I don’t say that lightly, but with severe reverence.  I didn’t realize that even this chlorinated, sulfuric city water was not only harsh on my skin and senses, but my clothing that just looked dingy. Husband’s work clothes would never feel clean, especially in the summer.  And he’s not thaaaat stinky. So, please please please, if you need more pure and less itchy and chemically in your life, in your kid’s life….go buy. www.vitacost.com has great prices. Now! I’ll write you a check. (Link for a coupon on the left panel of blog.)

They make six products…I aim to try the rest at some point.

Dandelion Tea – Any brand, anywhere you wanna get it.  Obviously, the more natural, the better.  It’s a natural caffeine-free stimulant, specially recommended if you’re having trouble dropping coffee (points to self violently!).  It’s flushes excess toxins out, clearing the liver quite a bit.  It’s a diuretic tea, great for someone with interstitial cystitis who loves to retain water sloshing around my spongy body.  Even though it’s not much of a problem anymore, it’s not yet a perfect science and this is great maintenance.  And flat belly mornings…all day long! Till I carbo load.

BCAA and Glutamine – Where has this been all my life? I scold myself for not learning enough about this during my training days. All I knew was protein, protein protein.  That was quite a damper when all the processed cancer-hugging whey and soy isolates started accumulating in my liver and hurting my brain! Branch Chain Amino Acids and Glutamine helps muscle recovery  and other stuff, and optimize weight loss through muscle preservation.  Do your own research. The point is, not only does it help with my slow and sluggish healing abilities, it has helped me reduce pain!  All the strange muscle pains I would get, even if I don’t work out.  It feels like an energy boost in the mornings.  I’ve never known exactly to what it’s due, but my metabolism surely went backwards quite a bit, and just digesting food was an ordeal.  Slow digesting food leads to putrification in the gut, toxin release, therefore even more muscle and nerve pain.  But if your muscles are functioning well, the stomach can focus on its own job and let the muscles focus on their healing.  And did I mention it helps weight loss? Of course, you have to workout to truly see some benefits.  Otherwise, you can just lower your standards settle for feeling them. I could go on, but I’m starting to be summoned by the arms of Morpheus, so I must hurry.

Ahava Oil Drying Mist - In searching this link for you, I have just ruffled my own feathers, realizing I paid waaaay too much for mine.  Good for you.  Anyway, what the heck is it??? It must be from Narnia or some magical land!!!! O.M.G. All I know is, almost everyone has some kind of allergy.  If you’re young and don’t have them…wait for it… Once I lost my immune system, even though its decently restored, I have noticed when I wear my favorite perfumes (including the amazing BVLGARI my husband bought me for my anniversary to commemorate the honeymoon), I will end up crying a fit and blaming you or anyone in the surrounding 3 feet for ruining my life.  I lose it, I cry, I get headaches, I get disoriented.  I might as well get tanked of some Ketel.  I’ve been about 2 years not wearing perfume, feeling bad that my husband has to smell my natural muskiness.  No sexy woman to pass him by and leave the lingering allure of my Spanish scent (that could go many ways)… just today I found this.  I save my pennies I promise you, so that I may make my expensive vegan/gluten-free desserts with ingredients exporting from far lands and soy free chocolate chips! I do hound over my monies.  But I need to smell better. Way better. And this, is heavenly, and not only is it heavenly…it doesn’t make me homicidal   And not only that, it’s soooo fricking healthy. In the sense that it’s made from sea plants, or algea or something.  Sounds gross? Well, I put it on my face and hair…and moved on.  Later I absently-minded grazed my cheek and about had an affair with my 19-year old self.  I have not had skin like this since over a decade.  It glowed like the Sun’s divine rays! I was Narcissus himself.  The cats had to step out.  Lucky for you I found it for about $15 less. Grumble grumble.

The uplifting scent of Mandarin and Cedarwood rejuvenates the senses as it provides a skin-friendly boost of vitamins and minerals.

If that caption is not a selling point, than I don’t know what is.

My friends, I want to share so much more with you but part of the balancing act is going to sleep at a reasonable hour.  I’ll continue to share my fun finds, freak outs, and moments of serenity.  And most likely….some endorphin highs.

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Filed under Housewifing, Indulgence, Loopy Lupus, Picture of Health

Crack

Things to enhance your dull life…including, but not limited, to foodstuffs that are shockingly low in crack. I mean, sugar. No, really…some of my favorite addictions or indulgences that have to be shared:

  • Chocolate Decandence (Egg free, dairy free, and no added sugars) - Secret ingredient…..beans!  It’s just so much better than any cake in a 15 mile radius, I bet you my firstborn.
  • Immaculate Blueberry Scones - If I’m going to have wheat (sparingly and not on an active day where I can schedule a nap), it’s gonna be all natural, unbleached.  This company remains as non-GMO as possible, when affordable, and only 4 freakin grams of sugar! Party in your mouth! Found out Whole Foods, SuperTarget and Wal-fart Supercenter.
  • Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis - must read autobiography! Even if you’re no junkie, if you’ve ever been down the psychiatric rabbit hole, you will understand the twisted mind of a beautiful, lyrical, albeit…train wreck.
  • Blogilates - To be honest, I usually want to punch this video blogger in the face, but if you remember me going on about fitness, I can’t work out hard core like I used to anymore.  This is the best low intensity, but effective, workout I could find.  Just skip the silly Gangnam style gimmick.  If you find someone less bouncy and perky, please, I beg you…let me know.
  • IKEA Bird and Tree Curtains - makes any house a home.  A fabulous, hipster home.
  • Sherlock… on cokeandpopcorn.eu - Challenge yourself. Watch 2 seasons in one day! For Free.  You’re welcome.  Bloody Brilliant!
  • Jewels Star App - What else are you gonna do on the loo?
  • Acupuncture - Nothing more addictive than needles!

 

  • Lastly, the cutest video I could relate to on the interwebs:

 

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Run.

For the first time in three years, I ran. Just now.  I’m still slightly dewy from the little baby sweat I broke.  I’ve slowly been incorporating a plank here, a push up there, a 5 pounder whenever it feels safe.  I went outside for a light walk for some wellness.  My knees and back have been sore and swollen from pushing through warning signs my body gave me during a strength training workout.  Nothing like a little circulation to ease the pain of inflammation.  In contrast to five years ago, where two minutes of walking was a sight for the sad deterioration of a young girl, my chi flows properly now and allows the healing of muscles and aches.  So, I thought I’d heal myself a bit.

Ten minutes in, without a proper sports bra, my running shorts, and while wearing dorky glasses, I didn’t give it a second thought and found myself moving quite fast and heavy.  It felt so good to put weight on my bones (I can’t lift heavy like I used to, but this seemed to be working).  It felt strange and so comfortable at the same time to have my heart beating fast while breathing steadily.  I felt my butt and hams and quads tight, my back strong.  Well, the shins and ankles were not what they were, but they accepted the challenge.  Carefully, at the first reminder of my old arthritic wounds, I receded back into a brisk walk and waited a few minutes between a jog.  But now I know that I’m back.  I could burst into a waterfall of tears right now.  Six months ago I was looking into disability and now, in less than 15 minutes I found the confidence to entertain the idea of running a 5k again, as I originally intended a few years ago before I was diagnosed with Lupus.

Thank you acupuncture.  Thank you Chinese Medicine.  Thank you God.

The body is marvelously made to heal itself.  When we stop taking medications that kill a symptom dead in its track without every consulting with the organ that stemmed the imbalance to begin with, and give it a fruit, vegetable, or herb that brings blood and life to our ailing body, we are capable of reversing the aging process.  My body still aged quite a bit with my illness and I’m sure it’ll always require mindful maintenance and consideration.  Mortality will still call me out if I don’t listen to my body and push too hard.  But it’s been very appreciative of the internal care I’ve spent blood and tears on.  Now I can sweat a little bit.

www.livingharmonytampa.com

This is the Healing Center that saved my life, in case you live near Tampa and deal with chronic anything, despite what doctors have told you.  I was skeptical too.

Image

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Raw Brownie Rabbit Poops

Raw Brownie Bites

Raw Brownie Bites from Rabbit Food For My Bunny Teeth, click for link and blog.

Tried these at home during a sudden violent craving.  I was determined to stick to the diet and succeeded with this recipe. I had all the ingredients at home, and I sure wasn’t going to drive out and work for my satiation.  It had to be fulfilled in 10 mins or I would die.

I also had husband and cousin approval. They concurred the flavor was sweet, fudge-brownie-like, and nutty. I thought these were chocolate-y and naturally and so yummily greasy.

Raw Brownie Bites
Makes 12 servings

1 cup pitted Medjool dates
1/2 cup unsalted sunflower seeds
1/2 cup walnuts
3 Tbsp raw cacao powder (or 6 Tbsp cocoa powder)
1/2 tbsp pure vanilla extract

Blend the sunflower seeds and walnuts in a food processor or high powered blender until finely ground but not a nut butter consistency. Add the cacao powder and vanilla extract and blend again until mixed evenly. Remove pits from dates. Add the the dates and process until a dough like mixture is formed. You should be able to sculpt the dough without crumbling. Using a 1 Tbsp measuring spoon, scoop the dough and roll into 12 balls. Keep in the refrigerator for 1 week or freezer for up to 1 month. Enjoy!

Also, you can later turn them into this:

Aren’t they the cutest little rabbit turds you’ve ever wanted to pop in your mouth?

Brownie Batter Milkshake
serves1

2 Raw Brownie Bites
1 frozen banana
1 cup unsweetened almond milk (or milk of your choice)

Combine almond milk, banana, and 2 Raw Brownie Bites in a blender and blend until smooth.

I added greek yogurt for protein as a post workout meal.  So yum.

More updates on what I’m eating lately, and what I’ve discovered that is healing me so that I can occasionally stomach dairy and other foods again and pee like a normal human. I’m now a flexitarian, no longer vegan, but eating extremely clean, mostly gluten free, and working out again.  Did I mention my joints are working again? What? We’ve got some catching up to do.

UNTIL THEN, CHECK OUT THIS BLOG 

http://rabbitfoodformybunnyteeth.com/

Read her bio. Inspirational.  And her recipes are healthy and easy enough for a fifth grader to make.  She’s a keeper

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August 29, 2012 · 7:20 PM

The Art of Self-Regulation (of a flibbertigibbet)

I go on these kicks.  I’m all about reading.  I’m all about gardening.  I’m all about makeup.  Oooh! Nail Art! One obsession at a time please, or it will result in my brain imploding or my back account taking off like Madoff. As one rabid concentrated episode takes over, all the other tiny buttons and levers on the dashboard of life start dwindling.  Balance, what’s that? Fader, I know that one.  It just …fades.

Here’s my current epiphany… that surely will not last:

  • Freshen up, fugs! I look ravishing in the mornings.  The trick is: keep your face on. It falls off as the day goes by.  I don’t freshen up compulsively like I used to when I first learned how to be a girl.  Lips dry off and flake.  Oils secrete.  Pores rage.  Wisps of hair fly away, every which way. Descending liner makes eyes look sad, tired, old. Or the whole scary trifecta. I’ve attempted carrying a moderate size toiletries bag with the essentials, but it quickly snowballs into a mom beach bag, with everything but my hair dryer.  I carry my regular purse around, plus a carry-on suited for a body bag, and maybe another one in case somehow it all doesn’t fit by the end of the day.  It soon begins to surface all the questionable behaviors that come with pack rats.  I need a make up zipper pouch-ish container, relative in size to my current handbag, with just the basics.  Gloss, translucent powder, floss, teeny deodorant, and a shiv.  Which I will lose anyway at some point.  And a timer set, in not-obvious intervals (so i don’t rise suspicions of incontinence), to prompt a ladies room break to fix the face that people have to look at.  Poor people.
  • Look into dry shampoo. Yes, hoisting my arms up over my head for 5 minutes plus everyday? I’m not keen on that.  If you are, you’re lying.  Plus, I don’t want a dry scalp that looks like a snowy White Christmas from city water overkill.  But, oily hair, ew. Disgusting.  Time to research and test products like a lab rat.
  • Breathe. Dammit, breathe.  I forget this.  Living in the city, and working with all men, it slowly pushes my buttons and steadily decreases the length of my breaths. Creeping up on me are short staccato gulps of air that confuses my body to thinking I’m anxious.  And I am.  And I’m one loose screw short of a breakdown.  I’ve been getting so comfortable in this panic, so sure that hyperventilating just means I’m alive.  Frankly, I need to start having less than one mid-life crises a month. It’s supposed to be one per lifetime. In the middle.  The plan: go home, practice my breathing yoga at least once a week. BEFORE I get zombie’d into watching Prison Break, if I know what’s good for me. And I usually know, but I just forget.  Come back to the middle.  I need oxygen in my muscles.  Or my muscles will conspire against me and make me look like a spaz.
  • Read more.  Which Nook has been helping, that along with other detrimental and disgusting habits like clicking your Google spending account like it’s morse code and surfing their book shop for hours, weaving around their -shockingly popular- smut (and oh my God do they have a lot), just to find a mediocre literary steal for $3.99 that you’ll never get around to unless you finish the complete work of Sherlock Holmes because it was only $1.99.  However, when I read more, I imagine more. I make brighter and stronger and funner connections.   I start getting interested in things, like when I used to take Adderrall to synthetically make the boring people more interesting.  Plots, stories, and visualizations are bread for my brain.  I like it.  It’s carbo loaded.  It’s sugar and spice and high in caloric content.
  • Meditate on personal goals.  Yes, I have to meditate on the things I value and appreciate and keep me in balance (diet, long distance friendship, clothes that fit), because otherwise I kind of just relax my gut, throw on a ratty t-shirt, and veg out with my —- out.  This directly relates with the first note of staying pretty during the day.  I need constant reminders to myself that the doughnuts make me feel ucky after I’ve inhaled it, the wine makes me narcoleptic, that corn is not as fun going out as going in.  That even if I feel woes and aches, I feel better if I take a walk instead of sleep it off.  Granted, there is a balance. With my precious hollow bones, I need to give in to repose a bit more than the average fitness buff. But for the most part, keep lifting apples, put down the cookies, and move my lumpy ass into a tight clench.  That may make no sense, but i wanted to use the word clench.
  • Sing more often.  Horrible as it may be for the miserable bystander,  I notice I do this when I’m relaxed.  Simply listening to music is not enough.  When I stop singing during the days, nothing but non-musical whines and complaints emanate from my rotten stinky core. My common excuse is that sometimes there are too many notes I can’t hit and too many lyrics to remember.   (Don’t you hate those people who can rap along to Eminem after hearing the song just once.  And they don’t even like him??? Cause who does, really?). If I’m not singing the same ol’ three stanzas of a song, I end up mad-libbing lyrics like Elton’s Johns, “Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza”.  Haha, just kidding.  I don’t ‘do’ Elton.  But call me a butcher cause that’s how I cut it.  Solutions:
      * Stress headache? Listen to Chinese meditation string-plucking, chi-aligning music.
      * Don’t know what to play? That’s why God invented shuffle.
      * Nothing will cheer me up? Hello!? You have the whole Britney Spears discography!
      * Desperate for a picker-upper that not even Brit-Brit can fix? Pop in the Annie DVD and fricking sing along with a broom.

    Rounding down to the point: don’t be too lazy to turn on my slow-loading iTunes library and wait for the processor to get rhythm into my head. I do not like myself when I don’t murmur along to songs, much less belt it out for the cats to witness.

    Author’s note: I still maintain a blood pact with the universe to never, EVER, willfully engage in karaoke. I don’t have to explain myself.  No I don’t.

  • Keep writing.  Keep journaling.  Keep getting rid of the excess junk in my head.  Use up the female word quotas of the day before they fall upon the days of hormonal psychosis once-a-month and all hell breaks loose…for my husband.  I’m fine with it.  Poor him.  Keep categorizing my thoughts, or at the least letting them free before they’re tangled in my head and I end up staring, open-mouthed, at things.  Just random things.  Even if I have nothing of value to share, a trivial fact I have gained in my absorption of vague book smarts, is that this is how women build oxitocin to regulate stress cortisol and make us deal with the male gender more readily.  Not oxicotin (whole other story).  We share, we communicate, we stay engaged in the things that matter: like keeping my face from melting during the day, morphing into an old uptight cat-lady who doesn’t crank it up, a deaf-mute who has not spoken in so long, she forgets how to exercise her vocal chords, and dry lizard skin.

To the readers: I’ve been thinking of you.  Sorry I was gone so long.  Sorry I promised I wouldn’t be gone so long.  I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep. So I can keep it together.  When I do write, it will be whole-hearted.  Miss you. Love you. Xoxo and other keyboard characters that express emotions.

:)

XD

:P

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From the Couch of: Housewife

I tend to write only when I’m healthy and on a roll.  Making it a bit unrealistic for all the turd little symptoms I have to put up with.  So, here I am.  Couch Planted.  I made an executive decision to stay home and heal.  I put in a call to the doctor to clarify some of the side effects from my new Plaquenil.  It has its benefits, but as all medicines you are warned about nausea, headaches, muscle weakness, joint pain, depression,  sexual impotence, constipation, diarrhea, the very disease you have times 10, hysteria, schizophrenia, pooping your pants, Tourette’s syndrome, wearing mismatched clothing, kicking babies, channeling Woody Allen, and talking to walls.  I woke up something similar to a  migraine. I’ve been having vivid nightmares (thankfully, not hypnogogic dreams which I have regretfully experienced with certain muscle relaxers I no longer take). My muscles were moving strangely, joints were swollen, short of breath, frog in throat, and a few other uncomfortable numbers all at once.  Mostly my forearms, hips, and calves were in pain, hard to move, and that doesn’t even explain the existential sob fest, which I must say was very peaceable and gratifying, but none the less, not acceptable in a workplace with 50 men … and lil ol me.

I’m in incredibly good spirits.  Probably grateful that the universe forced me to take an off day.  I’m fighting the urge to go clean something because I actually have time!!! The need to rest is paramount, but its hard to stay still.  Especially, when whatever body part that wants to move gets sore from collecting stagnant blood at the site. Regardless, I aim to take it easy somehow. Thank you Netflix and audiobooks.

I have been violently nauseous.  Violently in comparison to someone who always is ready to eat, not someone who has been through chemo.  I believe I have not been eating and drinking enough water due to the nausea, or the medicine is just making my tummy acidic. I don’t know.  I don’t know how it works.  Before, the investigative journalist in me would come out and I would scour the earth’s library and internets to find out why and how, but instead I think I’m just gonna plop a DVD of Foster’s and fall asleep while drinking juice.

Link to site, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

I have a growing suspicion that while I was drinking nopal, my liver was cleansing out some of the harsh effects of the medicine.  My skin was not experience the side effects as strongly.  I did not get strange stabbing pains in say, my armpit or behind my ears.  I was doing it everyday until the chick at the produce stand stopped selling them prepped, spine-free, and I decided I had poked myself one too many times to keep doing it myself.  Also, my fingers get sore really fast with such detailed work.  However, I see it is something I will have to endure.  Or ask my mommy to do it.

Other possible side effects are sun sensitivity and cold/hot flashes.  I felt it they improved when I fist started the meds, but it’s back . It can easily just be recurring Lupus symptoms, or the setting in of generic medicines hating my body.

I’m not sharing this to enhance your day with useless facts you never needed to know about me.  (Fact 1: First place I sweat during cardio: my elbow. What? Fact 2: I don’t sweat anymore. I physically don’t sweat, I overheat like a baby.) I’m sharing mostly for those who have taken Plaquenil and have had different experiences. MTV’s Real Life: Lupus and Diet Related Stories. Mostly, I write to share ups and downs and know someone else out there might go through similar problems.  It sometimes feels like I’m the only 28 year old with these silly issues.  But I know that’s not the case.

Remember the No-No Mission. I feel responsible to tell you I am not holding up my end of the bargain.  That’s right. Today at 5, when Cappy’s opens up.  I’m surrendering all my faux-vegan claims and shamefully (but ecstatically), eating pizza.  I’m going down with my dignity in flames.  I will not overdo it, but I certainly plan on not reaching my goal.

Dignity Robbing Justifications:

1) Sick day, I ain’t cooking.  Feel fine now, but in 1/2 hour into scrubbing pans, I will curse the day!

2) Cannot take any trips to health food stores.  No energy and the sun and heat can make it worse.

3) I’m starving.

4) The nausea is making all foods, except Glowing Green Smoothie and apples, disgusting and my gut needs something to masticate.  I’m gonna be hungry this evening.

5) I’m out of gluten-free bread to whip up something quick at home (that won’t make me hurl).

6) I’m going insane dammit.

7) Husband is out of town AND I feel crappy.  I earned my pouting.

Like I’ve also mentioned before,  I don’t believe in moderation of certain foods.  But I also don’t believe I can go a whole lifetime without it. Apparently, not even 30 days.

Either way, I’m a pinwheel turn away from  morphing into psycho-midget…so I’m gonna pacify myself with some good ol American indulgent food.  And I’ll feel better. Then I may or may not feel worse (sometimes my body actually appreciates that I ate something hearty..justification). But I’ll quiet the battle of whether I will or won’t.

Or I may just have an avocado and beans bowl and not screw this up!  The world will never know.

If you’re still reading, you either a studying the psychology of hungry women… or you’re a Super Trooper.

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Filed under Loopy Lupus, Under the Weather