Archive for Month: March, 2010
“In order to change we must be sick and tired of being sick and tired.”
On Monday I had my one month appointment with Diabetic Specialist Carole. She sent me to the lab to have another comprehensive blood test; rather, I had a bad phlebotomist poke me three times before going to the butterfly needle. It made me so anxious that I broke out in a sweat. It’s not even the pain (I can take pain–hello! birthed 4 kids naturally without drugs, and the last one was 11lbs 14oz–yes, I can take pain); it’s the thought of that needle fishing around for a vein unsuccessfully. Then images of spurting blood start to flow into my head. It’s not pretty and makes for a great vasovagal response. Thank goodness all I did was break out in a full-body sweat.
Hopefully the results will show my A1C level down from where it was when I went in. I also hope to have some answers as to why my hair is falling out, why I’m so sluggish, why I can’t seem to lose weight, and why my skin is as dry as sand-paper by having had my thyroid tested.
I go back in six weeks, unless otherwise instructed when I get my blood work back.
I’ve also been wearing the Earth® Exer-Walk™ sneakers for about 2 1/2 weeks now. I will say that there are some days that I haven’t worn them, even in the house, like I said I would. But, when on the move, they have definitely been on my feet. The first couple of days they felt strange, but the more I wore them the more I got used to them, and I could definitely feel the targeted areas getting a boost (areas that are not my problem, as I’ve always prided myself on having nice legs and a nice bootie–ask Michael, he’ll tell you.) Regardless, I like that I can feel the muscles working in a different way, and toning is a good, good thing!
So, in a nutshell, I am:
- One month into taking Metformin for Type II Diabetes,
- Waiting to get the results to see if my thyroid is whacked,
- Eating less, more frequently, and really trying to limit empty carbs,
- Walking as much as possible (at least 4-5 days/week) in my Earth® Exer-Walk™ sneakers and using my handy-dandy pedometer (except for our lovely GA snow days), and
- Waiting for the weather to make a turn so I can ride my new (used) BIKE!
Michael also got himself a new (used) bike, and we plan on riding together!
[As part of the challenge I was provided with the Earth® Exer-Walk™ sneakers pictured above, but the opinions during the challenge--written posts and tweets on Twitter--are purely my own.]
Searching For Steve
You know when you find that one specific kind of underwear that just fits your body perfectly? The one specific kind of underwear that you would gladly wear every day if it wasn’t for the, you know, stink factor. A couple years ago I found those very underwear. They were boyshorts and I had three designs—one purple and gray striped, one blue paisley, and one polka-dot.
I wore those underwear a lot, and all the washing began to take its toll.
Commence frantic search.
I searched, not knowing where they were originally from because I had purchased them at TJMaxx.
I called everyone I knew, with the same spiel, “If you see these Steve underwear, in extra large, you have to buy them for me!”
I posted on a bulletin board—that I was a part of—about it, asking dozens of women to keep their eyes peeled for Steve panties (and I preferred the boyshorts, but any would do).
I searched all of the major department stores, asking if they carried Steve underwear, to no avail.
I would do extensive internet searches. Surely someone online was as infatuated with these Steve underwear as I was.
Nothing. Zip. No undies for you.
In the meantime I would purchase other brands. Nothing ever came close to those Steve ones, though, and I continued to wear the ones I had.
Sadly, one ripped in the crotch, another ripped on the side, and while I contemplated sewing them I never quite got around to it.
I was left with one pair—the purple and gray striped ones—and I resigned myself to never finding any Steve to clothe my girly-bits with ever again.
Then one day, while at Kohl’s with Olivia (who knew my Steve plight all too well), she spotted a pair of panties that looked just like my favorite Steves.
“Mama, look! STEVE!”
“Oh my gosh! My Steves!” I exclaimed as I tore them from her little hands so that I might press them to my bosom like a long-lost lover.
Smiling, feeling fulfilled, I looked at the tag to be certain they were the ones I’d been searching for all this time.
Saint(period)Eve
Yes, it is apparent that I am a moron.
____________________________
*In my defense a guy named Steve DID create the company, and the the name is derived from that. It just would have been helpful if I was asking everyone to look for ‘SAINT EVE’ and not Steve.
Socks
I opened my sock drawer, looking for a pair of socks to put on, when I found a pair that I’ve had since high school. This is a pair of socks that have been with me over half of my life. Half my life. One pair of socks. It was a sobering thought.
I remember the day I bought them. I remember the friend I was with. I remember what we did. I remember everything about that day. I also recall that they were the most expensive pair of socks that I’d ever purchased. I didn’t care about that, though, I just wanted those socks. I wanted to slip my feet into them and never take them off. I vowed that I’d never get rid of them; even if they became hole-ridden.
* * * * * *
“Yes, I paid with my own money and I really wanted them,” I replied, just a little defeated.
“Mishelle, that’s stupid. Who pays ten dollars for SOCKS? You could get ten pairs at Hills for that much,” she continued.
“I didn’t want Hills socks, I wanted Gap socks. So I bought them,” I firmly said.
“Aj, so zdravje da si nosiš*,” she flatly said in Macedonian, letting me know she wasn’t pleased with my purchase at all.
* * * * * *
They were thick and slouchy and not an ordinary pair of socks*. And they were mine. I wore them with my jean skirt and cut off jean shorts in the spring and summer and with my jeans in the winter. I wore them with my black leather Nikes, with my found-at-Goodwill Doc Martins combat boots, and with my other black shit-kicking shoes. I wore them with pride (and as often as I possibly could.)
I tend to hold on to things. I’ve kept an old earring, even after one of the pair got lost, because I remember who bought them for me, where we were, and what we were doing. I still have the first teddy bear that a guy named Mike, who worked with my father, gave me. I have the purple Caboodle with the flowers that I stuck on there in the 8th grade, and recently used it on a trip. And then I have my ten dollar Gap socks that I bought in 1991.
These socks were important enough to have been packed up and moved eight times in almost 20 years. They’ve been stuffed in the back of a drawer amidst the chaos of crew, knee, striped, polka-dotted, and holiday socks. They’ve been forgotten about completely, but yet they have always remained a part of me.
As I sat on the edge of my bed, putting on my socks I was thankful. I was thankful that they were mine to either keep tucked away in the back of the dresser drawer behind all the other socks or to wear with whichever shoes I so desire.
___________________
*Translation: “Wear them in good health.”
*This post may or may not be about socks. You decide.
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