Showing posts with label salt intake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salt intake. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

BOREDOM

It’s been boring around here lately. I went to coffee yesterday and there was nobody there. Well, I was there. It happened again today — and we get a delivery from the food bank today” bread and sweets, always several days old. That is the only thing that keeps me from pigging out. Maybe not the only thing. As I was leaving, one personal arrived. I kept on going. I had already been there 30 minutes.

I blew it on Sunday. I don’t consider that I’m on a diet. I don’t use that word. When I spoke about diet in the past it was only a few days before I shut my mouth because I had fallen off the wagon. When you’re not on a wagon, it is very hard to fall off. While I didn’t fall off the wagon, I changed my eating habit — temporarily I hope.

I really didn’t plan to mess up. I know there have been times in the past that I have planned to abandon all hope, but this time it came from boredom. I don’t usually eat when I’m reading. I hate getting messy fingers all over the book. It smudges the pages and makes it hard to read. That’s the same reason I don’t like to dog-ear my books. I don’t know why this matters to me; I’m really quite sloppy. I’ve got this pile of Christmas decorations still lying on the floor of my bedroom. It would take five minutes to put away, but — I guess I don’t have time.

What a joke. That’s all I do have. The main commodity of retirement is time. But if you listen around, you would never believe it. They are all busy. Everyone but me. I asked a member of the new activities committee if she wanted to ride out to Poulsbo with me to check out where we will be able to park the bus when we take a group there next month. She could not go because she had such a busy day. She had dishes in the sink and needed to clean her apartment. If I were to wash dishes everyday (I don’t), they would be done in just a few moments. For me, I want to make a big deal out of dish washing so I wait until I have no clean dishes left. That way, washing dishes is an important and meaningful task. It’s an event. I need more events in my life.

When I clean house, it is also an event. It takes time because the older I get the less the mess bothers me. I suppose there is something wrong with this picture. I am very aware that cleanliness is next to Godliness. I have been trying to figure out how clean things were in Biblical times. You know, when they lived in the open, or in tents, or houses with dirt floors. I know I have less dirt than a house with a dirt floor. At least I think I do.

Maybe you noticed that I did not finish the story about messing up, messy fingers and what I ate. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. But I made popcorn. I know, I know. Popcorn is a healthy snack. Not always. I love it with real butter and salt. The butter is less of a problem than salt. I must watch my salt intake. I was careful. I didn’t use nearly the amount of salt as in the past. But I could certainly taste it. I even rubbed the edges of the bowl with a few kernels to get every bit of salt I could. Do you know that feeling of having both guilt and joy. It was wonderful. But I will not fail again — At least not for a while.

A friend sent this little note to me and I thought I would pass it along. I liked it.

UP


Read until the end ... you’ll laugh UP a storm. 




This two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that word is ‘ UP ’. It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv], [prep], [adj], [n] or [v].





It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election (if there is a tie, it is a toss UP) and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car. 





At other times, this little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is blocked UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! 





To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with (UP to) a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out, we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it soaks UP the earth. When it does not rain for a while, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I’ll wrap it UP, for now . . . my time is UP! Oh . . . one more thing:

Did that one crack you UP? Don’t screw UP. Send this link to everyone you look UP in your address book . . . or not . . . it’s UP to you. 



Now I’ll shut UP!

Sunday, January 1, 2012

CLUB MED

Miss me! I’ve been on vacation and for the entire week before I was getting ready.

I visited Harrison’s Club Med. The place is rather expensive, but well worth the money.

I was gone Friday, Saturday and returned today. The food was unbelievably good. There was a selection at each meal and all meals are done with room service. The help was warm, friendly. kind and on call 24 hours a day. I have rarely found such attentive people. There were times they came by just to talk. There were far most women than men and I was fine with that. As I left I talked to each one to express what a wonderful place this was, and how great the staff was, and how terrific the food was. On the negative checklist was: 1) ambience needed improvements and 3) the recreation sucked.

Almost immediately after the simple check in process, I was met and a second staff member drove me to the next phase of the check in. I initially cane in the wrong door and the right one was a long way. I liked the ride. A different person drove me to my accommodation. I was surprised to be the only one assigned to the room as all accommodations are based on double occupancy. There was no roommate available to share the share, but I was glad.

I was immediately given a menu from which to order. I made my decision while people buzzed around me doing all kinds of things. The young man who delivered me to my room was kind enough to remove my shoes and socks and replace them was a lovely warm grey no slip sock. No one commented on the gloss of the floors or warned me to be careful walking, but I could see that I should.

The food selection was excellent. I was determined to stay on a proper eating schedule and they have their own dietician to help the customers. I would like to know what spices they use to replace the salt. Probably Mrs. Dash.

On Friday I got the most attention. I lost track of how many came to check on me and do things and help me do things I didn’t even know I needed done. I was surprised when my whole family made a surprise appearance. I loved it however.

I was initially encountered a little British lady, who was a fireball. She was almost worth the price of admission. She had lived in places that didn’t even sound like countries to me. I am still sure she made some of them up.

While talking I discovered she had been all over the world. At least it seemed like it. In her line of work she traveled the world to fill in for people on vacation or maternity leave, missing in action, or whatever. I didn’t know there was such a temp job company. I got her history in a nutshell, her marriages, divorces, children, etc. I wanted to pump her for more because she was so interesting, but she had other customers to serve.

She was the one who stuck the IV in my right arm and inserted the oxygen in my nose. I didn’t really think I needed either, but she insisted — very strongly. My son-in-law took me through the check-in process. He knew the boss man who came for the check in. They go to the same church. Later a young man arrived to take my picture. My son-in-law knew him as well. It seems his twin brother in Chris’ class. The young man who took me to my room was a good driver a he never hit any one or anything coming around those blind corners traveling at the speed of light.

There was no grand welcoming party. We were not met at my accommodation by anyone. But it didn’t take long before they began to arrive one by one. The vampires wanted blood, the snakes wanted to squeeze my arm. Don’t use the toilet, pee in this little plastic bottle. “We’ll collect it later.” Weird. What were they going to do, drink it? I had not eaten since 7:45 that morning. It was then 3:30. Check-in began at 10:00. They weren’t ready for me I guess. My cards were in order, but I did not qualify for platinum card status, or so it seemed. I was not assigned luxury accommodation.

Recreation involved some cheerful youth pushing me around on a dolly so I could have my picture taken with various contraptions. Pictures, my foot! Nothing looked like a camera. They passed me though this very large ring that only looked fit for the Jolly Green Giant. What kind of pictures can a ring take? I had already had a large portable camera take my photo on the second stage of registration. They wanted to make sure I was qualified to join their club, I guess. I could hardly breath. O was also sent to a large camera. Strange. How many pictures did they need?

They sucked more blood and squeezed my arm until it lost its feeling. Then finally let me speak to a representative of the cook. By then they seemed to know all about me. No, you may not have that, nor that. Well what can I have? I ordered a very tasty meatloaf with potatoes and gravy, vegetables, a fruit bowl and bottled water with Crystal Light. It was wonderful. I was so glad I brought my latest J.A. Jance book with me. I had read nearly half of it before I got through the registration process. I was already tired of lying down and when I got to my room I had to lie down again. Admittedly this bed was more comfortable than the board I had been on for the ride to my place.

It felt like the vampire and snake came for a visit more than anyone else. That very day I was running out of places on my body to drain blood. I was beginning to think my decision to visit Club Med was a mistake.

I had had my sweatshirt and t-shirt stolen at registration and issued the Club Med official shirt. I hated it. It was too big. I do not wear size XXXXXL. The neck nearly sagged to my waist. I was constantly pushing it up. When my back and shoulders get cold, I am cold. I should have kept my big mouth shut. They turned the heat up all right; I was soon sweating so bad I cold barely sleep. They turned it back down.

I loved all my primary assistants They were women with a wonderful sense of humor and the ability to clarify things and keep me on track to meet my goals. I have barely gotten to my room when I was asked what mo goals were. With a stomach that was growling I said, “To eat” She wrote that on a white board. I laughed. It didn’t seem like a big enough deal. I added “to breath better.”

I actually slept rather well even though I was attached to machines with cords and had a transponder type box stuck in my shirt pocket. Who puts a shirt pocket in the middle? Very uncomfortable! The hardest part was being injected with a solution that made me pee every few minutes. And no one helped me in and out of bed. Yuck. I struggled getting around that bed rail and by the time I returned I was panting for breath. I made the visit because I was struggling breathing and they seemed to be making it worse. Then they would come and squeeze my arm. The numbers were high; they would also suck more blood. Never learned about that. I wanted to know if I was having a heart attack. They didn’t know, but they didn’t have another alternative yet.

The next day they took me for more pictures. One was innocent enough and I at least recognized the camera. The very nice gal taking those pictures said she remembered me from earlier in the year. She cheated. She just checked her notes. There was nothing to that one photo-op. I could not eat until after the second photo. I left the room at 10:00 a.m. and did not return until 3:30 p.m. talk about starved, this machine was an “L” shaped contraption that was pushed down on my stomach. I could not even see a lens. They told me it was reading the radiation in my body. Was I radioactive? No. About a half hour later, I thought that might be the problem. I was rolled to another room for what they called a stress test. I waited there a very long time. I think I fell asleep. When the test came I was told to just lie there and they would chemically stress me out. It took less than 60 seconds to be totally exhausted and about ten minutes to get relaxed again. I hated that. I had already waited an hour for the one man at this huge complex who was able to read the results. He did, but never told me what the answer was. It would take time.

I was back on the room to eat. My family was waiting there for me. They had been out for hamburgers. No, they did not bring one for me. I had baked cod. Very tasty! All the tests were completed, now we waited for the results. A Middle Eastern lady came before my family left and delivered the results. There was nothing wrong with my heart, but my body was retaining liquid, none in the lungs (a fear). They believed the liquid retention was from salt.

SALT! Then I began to think of Christmas Eve, I had little salty crackers with this wonderful shrimp dip. I had two helping of ham. My daughter sent ham home with me. I had ham every day. I love ham. This was terrific ham. I had caused the problem by eating too much salt. I even had popcorn for supper on Thursday night. I thought I was being careful. I no longer added salt to anything but popcorn. I can’t eat popcorn without salt and I am addicted to popcorn. I had salty products everyday for a week. I was shutting down the flow of blood.

Solution. Stop the salt intake. Now because of things that had run through my body, I would need to stay another night so they could flush my kidneys to get rid of the dye and saline solutions. Saturday morning I was feeling significantly better. The excellent cook was a major asset. The funny ladies who cared for me kept my spirits up and actually delivered more helpful information than anyone. They called my problem the holiday disease. People who make themselves sick by totally blowing their diet.

When back in my apartment my daughter and I went through my cupboards too remove everything with too much salt. Would you believe my cupboards are nearly bare?

I get paid on Tuesday. I think shopping will talk a long time this week. I need to watch the salt content like a hawk. It is just another step along life’s journey. I am also going to check and see if Social Security will help with a membership at the “Y”. That is past due.

I loved my visit to Harrison Hospital’s Club Med. The staff was terrific, the care exceptional, the attention to detail outstanding, the food exceptional (I want to eat there again). Overall, I loved the visit, but I hope to never visit again. But I know I will. My age indicates I will visit again — some day. When I do I hope I get to meet up with all those wonderful people on my next visit and if not them, people just like them.

Thank you friends at Harrison Club Med.