Change is Good

I've been pretty consistent this first month of my little blog in providing a new post everyday. That's going to come to a screeching halt, but only for the weekend. I am in the process of making some pretty significant changes to the look and feel of the blog. I hope to go live with it on Monday, but it may be Tuesday before it's all done. I'll keep you posted. Ha! Get it? Posted?



Alright, I promise my new blog will be better than my puns. As a bit of a teaser, here's the new address: www.practicallyhealthy.net. I like my Mrs. Pumpernickel reference, but this new name better describes the purpose of my blog: better health without a great deal of fuss.

I'm looking forward to sharing all the improvements with you. I hope you'll let me know what you like and what you would prefer to see. Above all, thank you so much taking this journey with me!

-Melie

Where I Started Part Deux

December 2006
Eight months before starting my GF adventure

February 2012
I won't say 'After'. I'm still working toward better health.

It's been a few weeks since I began my health tale. See here for the start to my story. For those who'd rather just jump right in: When I left off, I had just been to the ER for an esophageal spasm and discovered probiotics by reading this book. Go here for the author's latest book.

In 2006, I was also experiencing some other health problems. During my workouts, I began having severe pelvic pain and went to my OB/GYN to be checked out. An ultrasound revealed signs of endometriosis and ovarian cysts. That scared me nearly as much as the trip to the ER. My mother had a full hysterectomy by the time she was 32 due to endo and I really didn't want to follow that path. Though not his specialty, I also spoke to my doctor about my stiff and painful knees. He suggested it sounded like rheumatoid arthritis and recommended I see someone about it.

There I was at 34 with endo, chronic sinusitis, potentially arthritis and a barely controlled weight issue, much of what my mother battled most of her adult life. Given that she died at age 53 from cancer, I was not liking the direction things were moving. Beating heartburn was great, but it felt a bit inconsequential compared to the rest. I knew I needed a doctor who could help me with it all. I didn't have the time or patience to see multiple specialists. I really wasn't sure where to start looking. I'd never been the alternative medicine type and I wasn't even sure that's what I needed. Somehow through a Google search, I found Dr. Dale Guyer in Indianapolis. He didn't take insurance, but his website struck a chord. He was a real MD, but he was focused on healing, not just treating symptoms. I made an appointment and crossed my fingers.

That first appointment was and still is one of those unforgettable moments of my life. I was led into an office rather than an exam room. Shortly thereafter, Dr Guyer came in, sat down at the desk and began a thorough 45-minute interview of all my health complaints and family medical history. It was a complete shock to my system. I was used to fifteen minutes of glib and quick diagnosis. Beyond the paperwork completed for an initial appointment that I wasn't sure anyone read, no doctor had ever asked me about my full history, much less my parents'. At the end of the discussion, he said he was confident my mother had celiac disease based on her medical history of multiple immune system disorders. In addition, the number one killer of celiacs is non-Hodgkins lymphoma, precisely the cancer that took her life. Celiac is a genetic disorder, so he ordered a blood test for it as well as my thyroid, food allergy panel and vitamin levels.

I spent the next few weeks on cloud nine. I was so excited that someone was taking my health concerns seriously and was actually on my side to help me figure them out. When the results were in, according to the blood work, my thyroid was extremely low and I was at the very least gluten intolerant. Dr. Guyer advised against the full biopsy for definitive diagnosis of celiac. After all, treatment for each is the same: no gluten in the diet. He also put me on Armour for my thyroid and fish oil supplements for what tests showed was early rheumatoid arthritis.

Dr. Guyer was more than I could have hoped for, but he wasn't perfect. The one item he failed was teaching me how to eat gluten free. I remember thinking GF meant scraping the topping of pizza and removing the bread from burgers. That went on for a couple of months and I did actually get a bit better. Then I attended a tailgate for a concert. There was some great food and beer and I just couldn't resist. Besides, what could a little indulgence hurt? I'll not forget that day and wish I could forget the next. That tailgate was the last time I knowingly ingested gluten because the next day, I couldn't get out of bed. I was doubled over in pain into the afternoon. At that point, I pulled out my computer and started reading. Turned out, gluten free means not a crumb or morsel. No cheating could be allowed for real health with celiac disease. It was August 2007. That's when things really started to turn around.

By September, I noticed I was happy most mornings, even before coffee. I laughed more. I wasn't about to face plant on my keyboard at work in the afternoon. My focus improved and my weight dropped to 145. It was just enough to give me hope and keep me motivated. Thanksgiving was so hard that year. I remember standing in the aisle at Whole Foods with tears in my eyes. I was trying to find anything that I could take with me for holiday meals with our families four hours away. I didn't even know how to tell them about my new food paradigm. It still felt crazy to me, but I at least knew it made me feel better. I was certain they would right it off as a passing fad diet. I would have. I was terrified. The nicest lady walked up after noticing me staring at the wall of GF foods and told me it would get better. Her daughter nearly died at age 9 before she was finally diagnosed with celiac. She assured me it would get easier and took the time to make suggestions. She even gave me her number. I am still disappointed that I lost that number. I would love to let her know what a difference her kindness made. After her pep talk and helpful tips, I felt more confident and began to focus on spending time with family rather than food that year.


I think that's as good a spot to pause as any for tonight. I'll not wait so long to resume this time. It's a fun reflecting on how much of my life I've changed through my choices in food and health care. Those choices were sometimes only incrementally better, but over the last seven years, those little adjustments have had a big impact on my life and my family. What changes or choices have you made that have helped you? I'd love to hear.

Take care!

-Melie

Day 5 & Where I Started



Christmas 2004: Who cares what I look like?
Look how cute the other three are.

Starting at Point A: June 2004

Chronic sinusitis (4x/year)

severe heartburn

quick to anger

no energy

anxious

178lbs

bad hair

April 2011: Vegas, Baby!

Not Stopping at Point B: January 2012

• occasional sinusitis (1x/year)
• occasional heartburn after sugar
• temper after sugar
• no more afternoon nod off
• less worry (I'm still a working mom. You'd know I was lying if I said I was never anxious.)
• 137lbs
• great hair (Thanks, Amber!)

Landing at Point A was a result of several bad choices and a few unfortunate genes, which I'll get into in another post. This one is way long enough on its own, but necessary so you know where I've been.

After college, I started working. I had a beautiful baby girl. I struggled to lose the baby weight, but I whittled back down to 140 by the time she was three doing Sugar Busters. We welcomed our youngest three years later. I didn't really notice how big I got with her. I wasn't exactly one of those skinny pregnant chicks with my first, so I wasn't surprised when I gained quite a bit with my second. What did surprise me in June 2004 was my weight nearly two months after her birth. We had just returned from a trip to the beach where I avoided going to the pool or beach like the plague. I was in denial as to my size and I didn't want to go anywhere near a bathing suit.

At this point in the story, I'd like to take a moment to address the subject of weight. Until this post, I have avoided even mentioning weight loss as an objective. My reason for this is twofold. First, your weight is just a frickin' number. It doesn't reflect your value, your beauty or anything else about you other than how much force the earth is exerting upon you due to gravity. That's it. It's a statistic used as part of an overall picture that also includes your vitamin and mineral levels, blood sugar or hormone levels. This leads into my second reason for putting very little emphasis on that number on the scale. Your first clue to your health should come from your body, not a test and certainly not a scale. If you are moody, suffering from headaches or constantly exhausted, you should already know that whatever you are doing, it isn't working for you. I wish we had another objective health number like smiles per hour rather than pounds. Can you imagine? I haven't had any nutrient-robbing processed food for a month. I'm up to 20 SPH.

2005: Just after the move, at my youngest's baptism.
That color did nothing for me. What was I thinking?

Okay. When I left off, I was facing a meaningless number on a stupid contraption that sat on my bathroom floor. (Too much? Alright, you've got my point. I'll let it lie.) I decided to get that number down by doing Weight Watchers. I'll give credit where it's due. I lost fifteen pounds by the holidays of 2004. I wasn't feeling any better, but who cared? I'd dropped two dress sizes. Unfortunately, I stalled over Christmas, most likely because we were moving four hours north of our hometown with a kindergartner and an infant. We knew no one in the area and my man would be travelling more extensively. Plus, the move meant a new job for me and the loss of all the emotional support of family and friends. To say I was stressed is a massive understatement.

We persevered and settled in. I also went back to Weight Watchers with a new friend. We kept each other motivated and I managed to drop another ten pounds. Again, I still felt awful. I was getting a sinus infection at least three times a year and I didn't have any energy to do anything with the girls. But, hey, I was down to 153 pounds. According to all the government charts, I was only three pounds away from the upper limit of a normal weight range. Yeah me!

Ugh.

Me with the family not long after my trip to the hospital in 2007.

The bottom completely fell out in 2007. I had managed to maintain around the 150lbs mark for close to two years. I was having a hard time sleeping due to extreme job stress and near constant heartburn. I also was a horrible wife. I was always angry with my man, no matter what he did. I was also way too sensitive to the kids' behavior. I would sometimes lose it over the slightest normal kid stuff. Then, one day at work, my boss was talking to me and I realized I wasn't hearing a word he was saying. My left arm went numb and my heart felt like it was in overdrive, about to pound out of my chest. I was having a heart attack for sure. I sat for a moment. A coworker asked if I was okay. Not wanting to be 'ridiculous', I waited until my heart slowed, excused myself and drove to the closest hospital.

Yeah, that's me. Super Genius driving herself to the hospital in the midst of what I was sure was a heart attack. Geesh.

The nurses took one look at me and rushed me into the ER. They did a bunch of tests and then ,with real relief, told me I had simply had an esophageal spasm. As a wave of embarrassment swept over me, the doctor assured me that what I experienced was precisely like a heart attack. She made me promise to never dismiss it, as the next time it truly could be my heart. She then said the spasm was a result of years of damage due to chronic heartburn, gave me some prescription acid reduction meds and sent me on my way.

As I drove home, I made a decision. I was no longer going ignore what my body was screaming at me. I was no longer going to accept the condescension and smugness from my doctor when I expressed genuine concern about how I felt. I was not simply a working mom who needed to push away from the table. I was a person with a body that was pissed off and telling me I needed to change my ways.  What was so crazy is that I was doing everything everyone is 'supposed' to do: fortified whole grain cereals for breakfast, frozen 'healthy' or 'lean' lunches from a box and salads with 'lite' dressing for dinner. I was even walking on my treadmill every day. Why wouldn't my doctor just tell me what I was missing?

He wasn't telling me because he didn't know. At my follow up appointment, he handed me a box of Pepcid AC and told me to start taking them for the heartburn. I asked for how long that would be necessary. He shrugged and asked how long I planned on living. I was 33 years old and he wanted me to start taking prescription meds for heartburn for the rest of my life. I should have told him I must not be planning to live long if I continued to see him. I took the box, swallowed a dose and went to the library in search of a book to tell me what he couldn't.

What I found was a life changer and, I'm convinced, a life saver: The Insulin Factor by Antony J. Haynes. It's not that I think this little paperback holds all the anwers. It was simply my first step toward understanding what I was doing wrong and how I could start getting better. In the book, the author addresses not only insulin resistance, but also other common health problems such as heartburn. For that ailment, he recommended probiotics. The next day, I picked up a box of Pearl probiotics. Within two weeks, I could sleep without feeling like stomach acid was pouring into my throat. Within a month, I didn't need the Pepcid AC anymore. My doctor had put me on multiple rounds of strong antibiotics for two years without ever once mentioning I could develop heartburn without probiotics. I still wonder how many other patients he's sent into downward spirals, blaming them all along for their poor health.

This feels like a rather dour and anticlimatic place in my story to stop, but I've got work tomorrow. Sorry to leave you in breathless anticipation. I'll pick up the narrative sometime next week. In the meantime, I challenge you to do what I did. Go educate yourself with a good book on health. I'll be posting a list this weekend of the books and blogs where you can start, or should I say continue.

Thanks for being a part of my inaugural blog week! I'll be outlining a structure for the blog this weekend so I'm not so all over the place. I might still get random, but I hope you'll come back each day for something entertaining, thought provoking, mildy comical or perhaps a combination of the three.

Take care-

Melie


Day 5 Eats

• Arbucks Modified Arbonne Protein Shake
• 4 Almond Coconut Protein Fudge Cubes
• Pumpkin Pie Arbonne Protein Shake
• 1/2 of left over Squealer's Sirloin from yesterday

Steamed Brussel Sprouts in Organic Butter

Day 1

Remember how I said in my first post that this blog wouldn't be about perfection? Yeah, well, about that...

I went to PF Chang's with my man last night. It's my favorite casual dining spot and the most comfortable place to eat gluten free. We were celebrating Valentine's Day early since he'll be travelling in Asia next month. It was a nice relaxing meal. I had egg drop soup, chicken lettuce wraps and their awesome spicy chicken with brown rice. It wasn't exactly the perfect ACD meal, but it was my proverbial last meal before rededicating myself in the morning. A little splurge wouldn't hurt. It's not like I was going to have straight sugar or chocolate.

But, then the server mentioned dessert came with our meal selections. I could have said no. I could have had him wrap something up to take home for the girls. I could've run from the building immediately. Instead, I sheepishly muttered, 'flourless chocolate dome, please.'

Do you remember Eddie Murphy's stand up regarding saltine crackers? Let me paraphrase: After going so long without certain pleasures, your reaction to the joy of the moment is akin to mistaking a plain old saltine for a Ritz. Now, imagine actually getting Ritz after going without said crackers. There was a moment last night when I swear I could have lifted that plate and licked it clean. It was complete and utter joy beyond words.

Then I woke up this morning.

To say my disposition was less than sunny is an understatement. As I prepared my first protein shake for the day (and month), my man sat at the table innocently eating his breakfast. Each chomp and chew was like fingernails on a chalkboard. My angelic youngest child, full of energy and morning glow, was annoying the crap out of me. Even the dog seemed to be bent on ticking me off. Thankfully the eldest child slept. She was therefore spared my barely suppressed snarl.

I turned on the radio to drown out the chomper. Turned on cartoons in the next room for  the kid and threw a ball down the basement stairs for the dog to clear the area and subdue the throbbing anxiety. It all worked except the radio thump was driving me mad as well. With my man done with his morning meal, with as much restraint as I could muster, I told him to clear out. I wish I could say I politely asked for some quiet or solitude, but, no. Those were my actual words. 'Clear out.'

I didn't even say 'please.'

See the shot to the left? That's the mainstay of my diet for the next month or so. The Arbonne package coloring was a bit unfortunate this morning. All those bright, sunny colors seemed to mock my mood.

To add insult to injury, I had failed to notice I didn't have any coconut milk on hand for my inaugural shake. I ended up improvising. I did 2 scoops of vanilla protein, 1 cup of spring water, 1 Tbsp of carob powder, 2 Tbsp of almond butter, a few slivered almonds and some ice.

I didn't expect much. I've never liked protein shakes with water. Fortunately, it was surprisingly good. I had no trouble downing it. It hit the spot. It also brought my blood sugar level back up. Within a half hour, I was snuggling with the kids and smiling at my man.

Here's the rest of the day's consumption:

• Arbonne Citrus Fizz Tab drink
• Steak and Shake Grilled Guacamole Chicken Breast with fries (no bun, no sauce, no cheese) and water. I dipped the fries in the guac instead of ketchup. Yum!
• bowl of spinach wilted in garlic and butter
• brown rice pasta with organic marinara sauce
• Arbonne Vanilla Protein Shake for dinner
• Arbonne Detox Tea

I also made some anti-candida diet friendly fudge with the vanilla protein powder. It's my own creation. A morphing of an Almond Joy Ball recipe from my Arbonne rep (Thanks Kristina!) and a recipe for Carob Fudge from Diets, Desserts and Dogs. It's sitting in the fridge now waiting for a taste test. If it's good, I'll share the recipe tomorrow.

Lesson for the day: The sugar load last night was totally worth it from my perspective. (Did I mention the dome of chocolate was surrounded by berries swimming in a chocolate sauce?) I'm pretty sure my family would disagree. Next time, I'll just have a decaf coffee and wait to have something safely sweet at home. Or make sure I can get a protein shake down before I come in contact with other humans...or canines, for that matter.

Take care -Melie

The Journey Continues

Day Two of my blog and I'm having so much fun. I wish I had done this years ago. I wish I could go back and read what I was thinking, marvel at how far I've come. Instead, I'm going to jump into my present. I'll devote some future posts about the road I've already travelled. But, for now, I'll channel my inner Garth and 'Live in the now.' (Cue Bohemian Rhapsody')

My latest, immediate challenge is Candida. Fair warning: this is going to get just a bit personal. Last fall, I had a urinary tract infection. Extremely odd, but no big deal. I got through it with some over-the-counter natural supplements by AZCO. A month later, I developed a nasty sinus infection. I tried for several days to fight it off, but eventually had to give in and take antibiotics. It was a slow recovery and was quickly followed by my first and, God willing, last yeast infection.  

I didn't even try the over-the-counter remedies. I went straight to my doctor. She asked if my knees were stiff and looked at my tongue. What? She then told me my problem went beyond my nether region. I had a chronic Candida infection. My years of antibiotics and sugary foods had finally caught up with me. The yeast was in my joints, on my tongue and probably in my sinuses causing my sinusitis. She prescribed Nystatin and the Anti-Candida Diet (ACD) and sent me on my not-so-merry way.

I really thought ACD wouldn't be too bad. Six months of no sugars, fermented food products or dairy. I've been gluten free for over four years and it's a lifelong commitment. Six months of abstaining from a few foods? Piece of almond flour cake.

But I was wrong. Way wrong. In the first six months of going gluten free, I think I cried once, maybe twice out of frustration. On the ACD, I cried twice in three weeks. It is the toughest eating regimen I have faced. Vinegar, sweeteners and dairy are in everything. No ketchup or mayo. No alcohol. No eggs. No cheese. No nothing. I made a valiant effort at first, having tuna with fresh guacamole for lunch and no grain breakfast porridge for breakfast. After day seven, I was at my wits end. At first I couldn’t pinpoint what was so frustrating about it. I’ve never liked eating the same foods every day, but I’m no foodie and a little monotony shouldn’t be that big a deal. Plus, I’m accustomed to making an extra effort to ensure I can eat gluten free. Eating ACD shouldn’t be all that different.

After week three, I started slipping. I still avoided all sweeteners except stevia and yacon syrup. I continued to shun obviously bad things like salad dressings. But, I gave in to the eggs and cheese…a lot. Omelettes with wilted spinach and Swiss for breakfast; cheese on my bunless burger for lunch; cheese on my salad for dinner. I knew I couldn’t kill all the yeast continuing on that course.

At about that time, a friend of a friend contacted me about Arbonne. I used Arbonne cosmetics in college and really liked them. She thought I’d be interested in trying them again due to their commitment to gluten free products. I agreed to meet. After all, it’s been years since I’ve had a lipstick I trusted. 

Instead of a focus on cosmetics, though, we talked about Arbonne's Essentials line. These products include protein shakes, natural energy drinks, detox teas, supplements, fit chews and more. Arbonne combined many of the products into one set called the 30-Day Feeling Fit Kit. The purpose of the kit is to detox the body and provide a fresh start for committing to a healthier lifestyle. All the products are free of soy, gluten, dairy, nuts and processed sweeteners. In fact, all are sweetened with stevia and a bit of natural cane syrup. The program consists of replacing two meals a day with protein shakes and eating a healthy, allergen free dinner.  

My first thought was, ‘Great. Another Slim Fast program with a natural ingredient twist.’ But, I’ve read enough to know how different extracts and herbs are used. Arbonne is using legit ingredients in these products. In fact, the more I read, the more excited I became that this could be the way I get through the ACD. 

I’ll have to make some adjustments. I can’t have cocoa so the chocolate shakes are out. The fit chews have a bit too much cane syrup for ACD. The fizz tablet energy drinks use only stevia as a sweetener, so those are good to go. All I’d have to do is focus on lunch or dinner.  

So, this is where you find me and why I finally kicked off a blog. After seven years on my journey to better health, I’m going to try a product instead of along with real food to break through. I wanted to record this experience because it’s questionable.  The cure for much of what ails us can be found in good, real food. I still believe that, but I also have to recognize that close to forty years of eating processed foods might require a formulated product. A formulated, vegan product that is free of allergens and synthetic chemicals may be my best hope. 

Tomorrow is the big day when I start. I hope you’ll follow along with me. I’ll share my dinner plans and my progress. I’ll also go back and share some of how I got here.


Thanks for reading and take care-  

Melie
a.k.a. Mrs. Pumpernickel

Good morning, Mrs. Pumpernickel

There are times in our lives when getting out of bed is such a pain. The bed is perfectly toasty and the work ahead is simply too daunting. But, there was a time when the world was too new and exciting for the bed to contain us for too long. It's been many years since I've had that feeling, but I remember.

I remember waking on cool mornings, smelling sausage on the stove top and sweet cinnamon in the oven. On those days, I'd toddle out of bed, slip on my quilted robe, straighten my braids and gently place my baby doll in her buggy. Then I'd gather all my dignity and stroll down the hall to the kitchen where my grandmother, my best friend in the world, would be waiting for me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Pumpernickel. How is your baby this morning?" she'd ask, leaning over the counter to catch a glimpse of my doll.

"She's very well, Lucille. How are you?" I'd reply in the most grown-up voice I could muster. This, after all, was the only time I ever called my grandmother anything other than Gegon.

Yes, Gegon. My oldest cousin couldn't quite manage 'Grandmother' when he was a toddler and his best attempt, 'Gegon', stuck. The moniker was as unique as the woman. She was the smartest, funniest woman in my world. I simply idolized her. Still do.

"I'm fine. Would you like some breakfast?" she'd inquiry in her best diner waitress voice.

"Oh yes, please," I'd say, as I climbed onto the stool in our kitchen.

It was just the two of us on these mornings. After my parents divorced when I was three, my grandmother came to live with us during the school year. My mother was a teacher and my sister was six years older and already getting close to junior high. So, it was usually just Gegon and me in our pretend diner.

After my scrambled eggs, cinnamon toast and sausage, I'd gather up my robe again and check on my baby before starting the not-so-long walk down the hall to get dressed for my real day.

"Thank you for breakfast, Lucille. It was delicious."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Pumpernickel. You take care."

And, every day, I promised I would.

As the years passed, I didn't always do a good job of keeping that promise and I paid the price. Seven years ago, I was thirty pounds overweight, moody, depressed and suffering from chronic sinusitis. Today, I'm at a healthy weight. I feel good, not great mind you, but good. There was hard work involved in getting from there to here, much of which I will write about in the coming weeks or months. But, there is still a great deal to do to keep my promise. That's what this blog is about. It's not about being a foodie and certainly not about perfection. It is about me trying to make the best choices I can for my health and that of my family. It's about keeping a promise to Gegon to take care.

I hope you'll come back and join me regularly and share your experiences too.

Until then, take care.  -Mrs. Pumpernickel