Blah, blah, better

This week started out with a fizzle and not a bang.  Last weekend I had a lot of fun with girlfriends and girl talk and then on Sunday I felt bummed.  Just the unexplainable blahs.  It continued on into Monday, as these things usually do.  I just kept having the urge to be somewhere different.  KD Lang's song "Anywhere but Here" was on a loop playing in my head.  Now, know everything at home was okay, everything at work was okay, I just can't explain it.  I think everyone gets like this sometimes.  After work on Monday I wanted to just drive; drive away to somewhere new.  Something exciting, some place different to experience for a while.  I felt stuck.  This feeling is not new to me.  I remember as a child (from a very young age) seeing airplanes fly overhead and wishing I were on that plane.  Who knew where they were going but, oh, how I wanted to be going with them.  I still do this.  What's so funny about this is the fact that I LOVE routine.  Sure, I can be spontaneous and throw caution to the wind, but for the most part I stick to a schedule, routine, regiment--whatever you'd like to call it.  I think this spurts of flying the nest is simply my mind's way of saying 'let loose and go!'.  No offense to my husband but this voice inside my head is also saying, "Go alone!".  I have never been the person that can't be alone.  I can.  I like myself and sometimes it's cool to just hang out with her for awhile.  I get reintroduced to myself, if that makes sense.  So, this week I was having the urge to flee (for just a bit) and leave my life (for just a bit).  The blahs had taken over and they were begging for a new change of scenery.  Luckily, they always pass and my desire to 'start anew' in Salt Lake City, Austin, or even Winnipeg fades.  It's nice having those thoughts because you get to daydream and imagine a new life, but then you realize more than likely it wouldn't be a better life.  It would just be a new point on the globe and your current point on the globe with all the 'home' is the better alternative.

Lots of talking--not a whole a lot to say.

Hmmm....what's been going on?  Nothing and lots.  There is nothing new (thank goodness!) to report on the health front.  I have been feeling pretty damn good lately.  I have loads of energy and even a kick in my step.  Literally, I kicked the cat today doing a hurkie to the oldie but goodie, 'Oh Mickey'!  Could it be that I have FINALLY hit a peak after 10 years?  Honestly though, I have never really ever felt that bad.  Sure, I felt like dog poo for the first 2 years after transplant but the rest have been pretty good to me.  I like to think it has a lot to do with being an optimist.  That is just my theory--feel free to dispute it.  Of course, another reason why I may feel so good is because of the winter weight I have put on.  Yes, about 8 pounds of flesh that came on so fast I didn't even feel it.  Trying to get your butt off the ground while during a hurkie is when you feel it!  It's been good, though because so far (knocking on wood) I have only had one little sinus flare up.  I think my body is happy with me.  I am thankful for it's cooperation, too.  I have been working a lot lately and usually with extra work I find myself exhausted and, yes, sick.  I'm going to try and keep doing whatever I am doing.  What else?  What else?  I think I mentioned I turned 34.  Wow, 34.  I find myself saying, "At least I don't look 34."  What kind of stupidity is that?  Is 34 supposed to be old?  It is not and, frankly, I kind of wish I did look 34.  I'm very happy (and lucky) to be at this number.  I've been watching Sex and the City (those ladies look great for their age!) nonstop now that there are once again repeats on the air.  This has to be my favorite show of all time; next to 'Roseanne'.  I waste the night away watching episode after episode.  I sit there informing my husband about what is going on and what is going to happen next.  He just cannot understand how I can watch the same thing over and over again.  This from a guy who once watched 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy throughout an entire weekend.  Yes, over and over.  I won't even go into how many times he's seen Star Wars.  However, Star Wars doesn't really count.  Who doesn't want re-watch those masterpieces?  Well, maybe Jar Jar Binks was a mistake.  What else?  I checked out Nigella Kitchen from the library.  I love her!  Nigella Lawson is the epitome of a lady.  Her recipes are delicious, she's gorgeous, British, and so very casually proper.  Oh, and after each episode of 'Nigella Eats' she sneaks back into the kitchen at night to devour something she made for dinner.  Wow, a girl after my own heart.  I usually take her recipe books and devour them like great novels.  I want so much to be an easy-breezy cook like her.  I did decide to compile this week's menu full of new recipes.  Tonight was Tandoori chicken with curried carrots.  It was okay; not outstanding.  Tomorrow is Speedy Matzo Ball soup!  Let's hope that is a little tastier.  The week is filled with orzo, shrimp, carbonara, tilapia, artichokes, black beans---you get the picture.  Very ambitious but I am determined to do it.  Like I've said it other blog posts, cooking has been a hobby for me.  Finally, I can chop and not cut a finger because I am rushing to get it over with!  Hmmm..anything else?  Oh, I'm growing my hair out.  Yep, this blog title is very appropriate.  I did a lot of rambling and I didn't say a whole lot.  Oh well.  I enjoyed listening to myself talk.

34 and counting...

Last week I turned the big 3-4.  This birthday was a very memorable one.  I decided to celebrate the entire week and I had so much fun.  Lots of friends, food, and drink.  I can't think of a better way to bring in my 34th year here on this planet.  I also found myself doing a lot of reflecting.  I spent the entire week plugged into my ipod blasting old 80s and 90s music.  It brought back so many memories.  Was I ever the girl who thought Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows was the most profound songwriter in the world?  I guess at 16 I was.  Hearing 'Round Here' takes me back to the morning of my SATs and wishing I had the capacity to write such soulful lyrics.  Pretending I was the girl to whom he was singing.  Terrible, I know.  Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran will always take me back to playing  in my room with Barbies; wondering my Simon LeBon was so hungry like a wolf and why oh why was the lady in the song howling like she was in pain?  Years and years later I finally got it.   Time passes so fast and memories just flood your brain as the years tick away.  I think of my little brothers and their long ago small faces and high-pitched voices screaming, "Happy Birthday, sister!".  These boys are now expecting their own little girls and I think, "When did they grow up and where was I?".  I was growing up right along with them.  It has to be so strange for a parent to watch their baby grow up into an adult.  My parents visited this weekend and they talk about my brothers and myself as if we were only children yesterday.  The age I am now is the age I will always imagine my parents as.  My mom with the long brown hair wearing shorts and watching my softball game.  My dad with ALL of his hair telling me to turn down my stereo or I will be deaf by the time I am 30!  I kind of long for those days sometimes.  Everyone does, I think.  So, this birthday brings lots of thought and happiness and nostalgia.  I'm excited to grow just as I was as an 8 year old and 16 year old.  Every new year brings more wisdom and God willing I will someday look back on 34 and feel the nostalgia of this birthday, too.

Has anyone tried meditation? Really?

After the worry last week  and reading Eat, Pray, Love and seeing my lovely therapist today I have decided to give it a try.  A real try.  I have been interested in meditation for some time.  Casey and I even participated in a Duke study about meditation.  The study, I found, was boring.  I think mainly because we had to write very descriptive logs about our experience.  I know this was a study and they had to gather data but it just really ruined the whole process for me.  The actual practice was calming and I always felt a bit lighter afterwards.  However, I could never meditate for too long.  Thoughts start to creep up in my head like gnats creep up in your face.  I tried my best to push them out but, usually, that was very hard.  So, the process ended.  After the study I didn't try again.  However, now something is pushing me toward trying again.  Maybe it's a lot of things:  my worry that seems to cripple me at times, the book I am reading, my therapist's admission that meditation and 'giving up the thought' is a practice she uses to stay balanced, maybe it's my age, or maybe it's just a fad-ish thing I want to try.  I think it's a combo of all of those things to be very honest.  I did practice some today and found I could only stay focused for about 5 minutes, but hey, that's was 5 minutes of complete mind silence without any distractions.  After a few minutes it seemed like the silence enveloped me and I could hear nothing around me except my breathing.  Oh, and the breathing slowed down tremendously.  The sound and rhythm of my breath helped keep me in a meditative state.  Just the in and out, in and out.  I felt calm afterwards.  It seemed like it had worked some.  I was happy to feel the lightness.  So my question to my on so many followers is:  What's your thought on meditation?  Hmmm?

CT scan results are in....

I have been in a holding position since Tuesday when I heard the news of a possible nodule in my lung.  See my previous post.  I was anxious, then calm, then anxious, then calm.  Well, yesterday I had the CT scan to determine what this 'nodule' was exactly.  I picked up the hubby and we drove to our nearest CT scan stand, which happens to be the mightly Duke University Medical Center.  The place I can navigate with a blindfold on and hands tied behind my back.  I was sent to the place of so many other CT scans.  Now, for those you have never had a CT (CAT) Scan it's interesting.  Basically, you lie on a table within a circle and that huge circle 'scans' a certain area of your body.  Think of the way a copier scans a piece of paper; it's kind of like that.  It's a pretty quick procedure, about 5 minutes.  As I lie on the table thinking of course, I notice the tiles on the ceilings.  Why do all medical facilities have the same ceiling tiles?  Waiting in examination rooms for a good portion of my life has brought me to notice the ceiling tiles, floor tiles, lighting, mirrors, you get the picture.  Yesterday I did my usual, take notice of the ceiling tiles and I counted them.  For some reason this relaxs me.  Before I knew it the scan was over.  Back to putting on my clothes and back to waiting.  I hate waiting.  My mother and my husband would say I am the most impatient person.  I am.  I was hoping for the results later that afternoon but I realized it was late afternoon already and most likely I wouldn't hear anything.  So, I did the best I could not to think about it.  I slept very well and got up for work this morning almost forgetting that I had something looming.  Of  course, at about 9:30am I was anxious.  I was ready to hear.  "Surely, they know something now", I thought.  I got impatient and emailed my doc.  He and I work together with a non-profit he founded (you may have heard of it, the Lung Transplant Foundation!) and I on certain occasions I have emailed him directly to find an answer to a medical question.  Normally, though, I don't bypass my coordinator because I don't like keeping her out of the loop.  Besides, I knew he was not in clinic today and he responds very fast.  He's an awesome doc in all the ways that count, but that's another blog post!  The first sentence of his email already had me at ease.  "Don't worry it looked normal."  The 'nodule' that I had been so frantic about was nothing more than a shadow of bone or blood vessels and that my "lungs looked great on CT".  Whew!  So I fretted over something that never was.  I felt relief but also very silly.  I have so many friends that are going through serious issues right now and they keep such grace and composure.  Why do I freak out so easily and what am I going to do the next time this is not a drill?  I wish I was the kind of girl that can just 'take each day as it comes' but I'm not and I've come to terms with that.  I will never be her.  I worry, probably a little too much, but that is who I have always been.  I worry about the future because it's uncertain.  Certainty is like my sneaky little best friend.  He's not always there when I need him.  I guess he's not there for anyone, really.  I will try to take a note from my happy go lucky, live each day like it's your last, take it step by step handbook and just be thankful for today and happy for the good results of a scary thought.  Oh, and thankful for the people that get me through the, "today could be my last day, where do I go from here?, what if the news is terrible!" thought. 

You don't have a fractured rib, but...

Last Friday I finally decided to ask for an x-ray of my chest after falling off of the bed two weeks ago.  See previous blog posts.  I knew all along it was just muscular because every time I worked out at the gym and stretched it didn't hurt, but I thought; better safe than sorry.  So, I got the call today from my lung transplant coordinator that indeed I didn't have any breaks or fractures but they the radiologist saw a small nodule in my right lung.  What?!  I was assured that they see this all of the time and it's most likely a pocket of some kind of fungal or bacterial infection.  Of course, being the freak that I am I immediately thought, C-A-N-C-E-R!  Then my thoughts went to "Calm down!".  My coordinator said I need a CT scan to check it out.  That's being scheduled sometime this week.  This is a new thing for me and I must admit that I went online and checked it all out.  Of course, that never helps because it's such a slippery slope.  You going from typing pulmonary nodule to, "OH MY GOD, I have that! And, it's fatal if not treated in 2 months, and it's a painful death.  OH DEAR LORD!".  So, I stopped put down my laptop and took a deep breath.  I'm over it now.  It is what it is and until I know more there is no use worrying.  I just have to remind myself as I go along day after day and all is good and all is fine that I still do have a chronic illness and a set of donated lungs.  This was a reminder.  Not the news I would have liked to end my day with but it's my life.  I will post about the CT scan and the results but until then I have a dishwasher full of dishes to unload because that's my life right now, too. 

Bake Pray Love?

Okay, so I'm trying to follow a slower paced life--kinda a 'stop and smell the roses'-type thing.  Oh, by the way I am finally reading Eat Pray Love on the recommendation of about every female friend I have.  I am devouring this book and it seems to go along with what I am trying to find in my life.  Oh, and Elizabeth Gilbert is 34 while experiencing these self-discoveries.  That is the age I will be turning in less than 3 weeks.  I am finding some similiarities in our thoughts but hers, of course, is on a much grander scale.  In this quest to find a slower pace I have decided to give up TV at night for a little while.  The hubs and I have decided to cancel cable and I am happy with that decision.  I have started writing--on here and privately.  I've also been thinking of baking.  Now, this may not sound very profound but to me it's like taking up the trapeze.  I have been an avid non-baker for years.  I dreaded it because I mismeasured, was impatient, and just hated the mess (go figure).  Oh, and everything I made turned out horribly.  I cursed the thought of making anything for the CF Bake Sales every year at Duke.  What would I contribute?  Trail mix.  Every year.  Well, things are changing are so are my thoughts on baking.  I was invited to a cookie swap over the holidays and decided this was my time to shine.  I studied recipes and found a simple shortbread cookie recipe.  I decided to dunk the cookies in bittersweet chocolate and sprinkle a dusting of pink salt on them.  I took my time and I followed every step thoroughly.  I was proud when I put them out for consumption and to my surprise they were a hit!  Now, sure I had tasted them prior to the swap and I thought they were good but I thought for sure I was just being biased.  Even better my husband liked them.  He is an honest person and I knew if he said he liked them then he really did.  Now, I am going to dive into the baking world--I think this girl is ready.  I haven't tried anything again since the swap, but I have a recipe ready to go for this weekend.  I am ready to become a baker.  Now I need a cool 50s style apron and a retro colored KitchenAid mixer and I will be official. I can't make this big leap without a little bit of shopping.  Ha!  Here is the cookie recipe I want to tackle:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/lemon-ricotta-cookies-with-lemon-glaze-recipe/index.html

The kids that take care of me

I am not a mommy.  Do I think I have a great maternal way about me, yes I do.  That is way I love my job and not to toot my own horn, but that is way I am good at it.  Nanny Dana.  Honestly, everyday is something new and I love that.  What I love most, though, is the love my 'girls' give me.  Honestly, is there anything more wonderful than the unconditional love from a kid?  They're mad at me one second for disciplining them and with one joke or tickle they are hugging my neck or giggling.  It's such a rewarding job.  These kids teach me so much: patience, humor, perseverance, the list goes on.  I feel like I am the one learning.  I honestly don't know what I would do without them.  So, I wanted to post a little something about the joys of nannyhood.  A tribute to the kids that love me and teach me everyday.  

Cooking for calm

For the longest time I did not embrace cooking.  Sure, I grew up with my mom cooking nearly every single night of the week.  Her cooking was and is fantastic.  She can whip up anything and it's delicious.  As a kid and a teenager I never had the desire to watch or learn and she never forced me to do so.  So now I find myself as a 33 year old woman learning how to cook.  Not just the 'throw some ground beef into the Hamburger Helper', but really cooking and succeeding in the process.  I started to take a different approach to cooking.  For so many years I simply wanted to get a dinner over with and on the table.  I never wanted to reach out of my comfort zone--ever.  I would make some pretty mediocre meals with a standout every once and a while.  I don't know what changed in me.  All I can say is I've taken a slower pace to life and that has translated into cooking.  I enjoy the interesting recipe that reads like it is going to challenge me, I enjoy the thought of usual ingredients combining, but what I think I like most is dinner is a great time to unwind and end the fast pace of the day.  Have a glass of wine, chop, mix, bake, broil, saute, whatever.  Once I decided to really embrace cooking and the foods and the nutrition it brings to my body I was in a different place.  Casey and I even tackle dinner together now and it's fun.  Where as before it was simply my 'chore' or his 'chore' for that night.  Now, don't get me wrong on a really rough night it's some frozen Trader Joe's flatbread and risotto (also frozen).  However, what I am finding is that cooking is becoming my out. My time to reflect and just concentrate on what I am doing at that time.  No worrying about laundry, getting taxes done, or scheduling a dermatologist appointment.  Also, the reward is usually a delicious healthy dinner that I am very proud of.  I actually sit with the hubby and we enjoy the food as opposed to wolfing it down and moving on to the next 'thing to do'.  Tonight I made roasted root vegetables with a creme fraiche dip.  We also had some flax seed bread rolls.  I sat at the table for 30 minutes just tasting and enjoying.  It gave me a content feeling and a desire to find a cool recipe for tomorrow night.  Bon appetit!

Where did Monica go?

My last blog inspired me to write this one.

Okay I am a very neat person.  I am the "Monica", if you will.  For all of you who don't understand I am talking about the show "Friends".  You see I can completely relate to her.  Even the episode where she preferred people use their hands, as opposed to utensils, to eat off of her new china.  I thought to myself at the time, 'Whoa, what a nut job".  Well the older I have gotten I am have become that nut job.  The kind of of gal (or guy--OCD does not discriminate) who pulls her sleeve down across her hands when opening the fridge so not to leave fingerprints!  The kind of gal that makes lists of the lists she needs to make.  I think I need help is what I told myself several months ago.  So, I took the next step and saw a psychiatrist.  I met her and my intuitive impression was..she's like me.  She likes things clean.  I could see it in her office, her neat pixie hair style, the no fuss stud earrings, her practical yet stylish shoes.  She, I think, could help me.  We sat down these many months ago and just chatted and chatted and chatted some more over the following weeks.  I had to admit to myself that it was working and that what I used to see through OCD eyes (which, by the way, she said I truly did not have.  I think I had a tiny bit.) I now saw as simply a dirty counter and it would be there for me to clean up at anytime.  I did not have to drop everything, clean it, and then yell at my husband for putting a greasy spatula on it.  It is the kitchen!  So the therapy and, oh yes, the meds have helped a lot with this 'disorder'.  My psychiatrist thinks I'm breaking through and see the light.  Now, I can honestly say I will never be at a point where dishes are stacked high in the sink with dried on food, the hardwood floors resemble carpet, or the sinks are polka-dotted with toothpaste dollops but I am being.  My doctor and I say 'being' a lot because that's what OCD is all about not having the control to just be.  It's ritualistic and it's exhausting.  I prefer to spend time my time these days being more creative which really makes me smile.  Now a clean house gets a smile out of me, too, but the quality of smiles is so different.

Ouch--an injury and dirty dishes

So, on Tuesday afternoon Casey (the hubs) and I were playing around.  We were wrestling.  I like to show him that, as John Mayer would say; "I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for".  Well I was pinning him down really well when I flipped over him and onto the hard floor down below.  I landed  really weird position and I, being the drama queen, thought I had broken my neck and several ribs.  Well, I really only have a sprained back and shoulder muscle.  However, it's caused some pain with doing just the everything things.  Yesterday I winced just reaching up.  Today is a lot better.  So much better that I thought all of the pain has finis.  I plugged into my iPhone and decided to clean up the kitchen to a Janet Jackson song.  It really had me fired up and I did a dance move that nearly brought me to my knees with pain.  I was so glad no one was nearby to see it.  Needless to say I stopped dancing and decided to leave the cleaning for tomorrow.  This is SOOOOOO hard for me, I hate dishes in the sink.  I mean I am OCD about t he kitchen and dishes in the sink; it must stem from high school.  However, today I decided to keep the OCD in check and wait to do the dishes tomorrow when I feel better.  This is a major breakthrough for me.  I'm not freaking out and I've told Casey not to mess with them.  This is sort of like exposure therapy for it.  My psychiatrist will be so happy.  Well this was just a bit of rambling as I reach for the Tylenol and the heating pad.   Oh and a good look at the sink I am avoiding.  Dried on eggs--yuck.

A poem and a prayer

Be Well

The sky is always the color of the sea when you smile.
I pick you up and swirl you around
Then we walk to the tree to sit for a while.
You and I we are so alike
Yet I seem to face the calm while you brave the wild.
The unknown scares us all and I am secluded now
And I know I cannot put out your fire.
It is burning along and we all watch
And our tears cannot make the flames tire.

Only a hard rain that pours from the smile sea colored sky
Can help us grab our only wish and desire.
So come Florence and fight the hot embers
I'll be by your side because of the love you inspire.


This poem is for the toughest little 5 year old I know.  One who has been battling a still unknown autoimmune disorder for most of her life.  She is an inspiration to me and everyone who meets her.  I am very close to her as I was her nanny.  She has more spirit than any average person on this planet.  She is going through and has gone through too much for her young age.  I don't even believe I'd had an IV by age 5.  Yet, Florence has undergone neurosurgery.  I'm so glad she was brought into my life.  She makes me smile, she makes me love more deeply, she makes me humble, and above all she makes me happy.  She has had a rough 3 weeks along with her family and big courgeous 7 year old sis, Laura Mishler.  The unknown of her disease has me wanting to reach out to everyone doctor in the country--the world, because I just hate to see such an awesome soul go through so much agony.  It's not fair, but I will save that topic for another day.  Right now I only send love, prayer, and good thoughts to my dear Florence, her parents, and Mish.  I hope you read this and do, too.  Here is to the your health, may it be strong always.

A weekend and a day

I'm so glad this is a long weekend.  Honestly, I could use the extra day to just be.  I feel like I'm always saying that.  Let's see I'm married to a helpful husband, I'm not a mommy, I work part-time, and I don't have a dog.  Why am I always looking for extra time?  Okay, so maybe I am a bit lazy at heart but I also know taking care of myself physically and mentally is exhausting.  Last Monday I had a completely unexplained fever of 100 degrees.  Why?  Who knows.  I felt bad and all I cared about was resting and getting rid of this fever.  The fever did go away but I'm left thinking when is the next fever, ache, or cough going to creep up.  Now, I know I am not one of those people that has a chronic illness and can never see the good for all the bad.  Sometimes you want to let yourself go there but I always pick myself up and move forward.  You can't stay still in that place for too long.  Luckily, for me and the people who care about me I don't.  So like I said, staying "well" can be like a 24 hour job.  That's what I always come back to when I find myself thankful for an extra bit of time because for some reason when there's not an urgent rush to do something or be somewhere I'm healthy.  Go figure.  It's a delicate balance; wanting to be 'normal' but needing the time to focus on rest.  It's frustrating, too.  I want to fly out of the bed in the mornings and pull a 'carpe diem'.  On 4 days out of 7 I do.  On those other 3 days, I struggle a little bit.  This post is just a little bit of reflection I'm facing today.  I find myself motivated but lacking the energy to pursue, so I think of tomorrow when I'm hoping to seize the day with a perfect temperture of 98.6.

Sun..clouds..snow..sun..clouds....ugh

This weather description is exactly how I feel today.  I am experiencing the storm before the calm.  That's a dramatic sentence, but I promise it's nothing that dramatic.  Mother Nature is just helping me pull out all of my personalities today.  I don't think my husband is a fan of this soap opera and all of it's characters.  To be a woman is a great thing--scratch that--a fabulous thing, but on days like this I long for the simple concerns of my husband.  The thoughts that I see come across his face are simply, 'How shall I marinate those steaks tonight?  Hmmm'.  Meanwhile, I listen to Pandora radio and weep during that sappy 90s ballad that I used to play while studying French in 9th grade.  So many memories--all good--yet I bawl.  Someone explain this to me?  Later, I engulf two handfuls of Ghiradelli chocolate chips and then hate myself for eating them all.  A few minutes later I will go back down to the pantry and grab a half of a handful and feel better because I brush my teeth afterwards.  Insanity.  Now, I am almost giddy and I think of all the wonderful things I could accomplish on this, now sunny, Saturday afternoon.  I could finally write all of my thank yous for the Christmas gifts.  I could finish reading the used book I picked up earlier this week but had to put down because it was getting too intense.  There are hundreds of recipes waiting for me to explore and jot down.  Notebooks are stacked in my lovely closet office for me to start writing that great American novel.  Really the possibilities for this afternoon are endless.  However, that mood has passed and now I feel bloated and want to crawl under the covers.  I know in an hour I will want to jump out of bed and go visit an animal shelter to rescue a cat.  Believe me that notion has already been entertained today.  So while this blog may have been a little more than you wanted to know; it's my Saturday afternoon in a nutshell. Again, this blog is going to be an outlet for me and, ahhhhh, this entry was a bit of a relief.  For all of the guys reading this entry I'm sure you got one thing out of it--my husband is grilling steaks tonight.  I'll blog on how they tasted.  Girls, I'll try to turn off Pandora and stay out of the chocolates.  P.S. it's still sunny out.

A New Year and A resolution

So it's now 2011.  I must honestly say I did not think I would make it here.  Back in the day I was a sick kid just hoping to see 2000.  Well, 2000 has come and gone and I'm still here. 

I decided in this new year that I would make one solid resolution and that would be to write more.  I would write anything.  The best way to do that in this modern time is through a blog.  Yes, I had another blog but it was more about my life as a patient and really less about me.  After all, a patient is just a small fraction of who I am.  A very small fraction. 

My plan is to blog at least every other day.  I strive to be honest and real but also creative and witty.  This is really is just a place for me; as I am sure I will read and reread these posts on a weekly basis.

So this being the 3rd day in January I cannot say a lot has happened so far.  I've been a sloth waiting for the holidays to end so I can start the day-to-day grind again.  I actually want that.  I know I should enjoy the time off and the slow pace and I did but now it's time to get the blood flowing again.  No more sleeping until noon and eating every hour on the hour.  Oy, that is the main reason I'm ready to get back to work.  Food was a BIG part of this holiday for me.  I ate so well!  Too well.  I initially made the typical New Year's resolution--work out more.  I kept thinking why is this a resolution???  Shouldn't I just do that anyway?  I will admit Casey and I have been pretty slack lately (okay the last 3 months) with exercising.  Luckily, my pulmonary function tests have been normal even though I've been so lazy.  I even admitted that to my doc--who does this?  He laughed and told me, basically, to start moving my ass.  I will--tomorrow.

So, this is my first blog entry.  Exciting--probably not, but I am diving in and bound to keep my promise (to myself) to write down my thoughts.  My thoughts to read through when 2012 rolls around. 

Cheers!