Peace be with you...

Dear people trying to pick a fight with me on the internet:

It isn't going to work. Thank you for playing. Have a nice day. No, really, I hope that you have a nice day. I hope that you find a flower to smell that brightens your mood. I hope that a stranger does you a kindness that makes you smile. I hope that you hear from someone you care about and haven't talked to in a while and you get to laugh about all of those old jokes you haven't thought of in a long, long time. I hope that you have your favorite food for dinner tonight. I hope that you have restful sleep and happy dreams tonight. I hope that all of the things that are good and kind and peaceful happen today and help you move past the momentary impulse that pushed you to try and engage someone in a moment of anger over something relatively trivial on a faceless, anonymous media. I hope that you have a lovely day. I hope that we all do.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Doctor Fatphobe

As any fat person can tell you, going to the doctor for even the most minor problem is a huge ordeal.  Unless you are one of the lucky few who has a doctor who treats you as a person instead of as a fat person, you are subjected to endless lectures, tsking, and forms of fat shaming.  It really is no wonder that a large number of fat people wait until their problems are serious to get medical help instead of seeking treatment when things could be caught early and dealt with easily.  When the people who are supposed to be helping you spend the whole time making you feel like dirt, it really isn't incentive to get you into their offices.

I am lucky.  I have had my doctor for around sixteen years, and we understand one another.  She slips every once in a while and starts to fall back into the flawed medical system mindset, but then snaps out of it with a simple comment from me about how I don't think that way and prefer to follow a Health at Every Size approach to things.  I can't blame her for those slips, she is surrounded by cult propaganda all day every day.  But generally my doctor visits aren't too bad, and we have a good working relationship.

Recently she decided she'd had enough of dealing with insurance companies and their interference in how she treated her patients.  The Husbeast and I totally supported her in this, as there was no reason for her to get penalized if my weight didn't go down to some arbitrary number or the like.  So she left her practice and joined another one, one that doesn't take insurance.  It is out of network for us, so involves more paperwork and we have to pay up front, but she's an excellent doctor and we like her, so we don't mind.

Let me amend that a little.  I don't mind, as long as I get to see her when I go in.  Two of the last three times I have gone in, I have seen the other doctor in the practice. I am telling you know, that in the future, no matter what my condition, I am calling to see if MY doctor is in and taking patients that day before I go in. If she is not, then I am going to urgent care instead. The following letter is to the other doctor in the practice, the doctor who I shall call Dr. Fatphobe.

Dear Dr. Fatphobe:

I was recently in your office and my doctor was away for the day.  This is the second time that has happened, and as far as I am concerned it is the last.  I have given you two chances, and both times I walked out of the office incoherent with rage at the things you said and did.

To begin with, I would like to point out that just because I am fat, it does NOT give you any excuse to speak condescendingly to me.  The fact that I had to pull out my coldest 'shut down' tone to get you to stop lecturing me about my life choices, even though you have no idea what they are since you didn't bother to ask about my typical diet or exercise habits, did not start the appointment off on the right foot.  And, by the way, trying to sell me your weight loss book during our first appointment together did not really make a great first impression.  Rather, it made me take an instant dislike that this second appointment only confirmed.

I have been diabetic for some time now.  I know what a1C is, and I know that it is different from the numbers that I test for in the mornings.  I also know that I do not have the equipment to test for a1C at home, so it is impossible for me to track on my own. You should know that as well, so do NOT treat me as an idiot and start simplistically docsplaining the difference to me.  You asked how my blood sugars have been running, I answered with the information available to me. If you wanted to know how my a1C's had been running, you should have asked, and I would have politely informed you of the fact that I cannot test for those at home (a fact you should already know).

Lastly, when my blood pressure reading is within the normal range, I do NOT feel that it is acceptable to prescribe me a blood pressure medication just because I am fat.  Especially when I have previously expressed a distrust of statins and the damage that they do to the body.  I do not feel that the good they do outweighs their dangers, especially in my situation where my blood pressure is NORMAL TO BEGIN WITH!  So, thank you for completely disregarding my feelings and including the prescription in with the others anyway.  The pharmacy filled it...and it is sitting on my counter, where it will remain...unused...until I find a safe disposal site to get rid of it.

You, Dr. Fatphobe, are an ass.  You do not listen to me because you seem to feel that my being fat means that I am too stupid and / or irresponsible to know anything about my own health.  That condescending dismissiveness of yours has been experienced by me for the last time.  I shall no longer accept you as a physician.  If you are the only one in the office, I shall either come back on another day, or go to urgent care.  I will let my own doctor know how unhappy I am with how you treated me, and that I refuse to ever see you again.  I deserve better than you offer, and unlike so many who still suffer under the weight of society's teachings, I have learned that I have the right to tell you just what I think and where you can go..and I am now doing so.

Do not expect to ever see me again, unless it is to be walking past one another as I see your partner at your practice.

No love, or like, or even kind consideration,

The Fat Lady

(Note:  It has been pointed out to me that statins are for cholesterol, not blood pressure.  Now, it is possible that he misspoke, or that I misheard.  I am not sure which it is.  My cholesterol numbers are also fine as of my last testing, so either way, I don't need the medication.  I don't discount the idea that I misheard as I am human and I was so furious at that point in time I was pretty much at my limits.  Either way, the medication was prescribed for fatness, not for a legitimate medical condition.)

2016 Already?

The Earth has gone around the sun one more time and it is now 2016 by the calendar my part of the world follows.

Last year went really fast.  REALLY fast.  I accomplished some things, failed at some things, and have some things still ongoing.  In other words it was pretty much a typical year.  Now it is time to look back one more time, assess where I stand, and decide where I want to chart my path for the coming year.  All of this is done, of course, with the knowledge that no plan survives contact with the enemy...or with reality...or with whatever it is that The Fates have planned for the oncoming year.  Still, it is always comforting to have some goals in mind to help find an initial direction.  So...my thoughts on where I want my 2016 to lead:

• I am going to turn 50 years old this year.  That kind of blows my mind.  When I was young, 50 seemed so OLD, and now I feel like (physical issues aside) I'm hardly any different than I was when I was 15.  But when I stop and think about it, I realize just how different I am.  I've learned a lot about patience, empathy, and love in my years.  At one point I believed I would never be a good parent, so I didn't want children.  I was always afraid that I would be the overly demanding, perfectionist who was never satisfied with how well my kids did things.  I didn't want to put any children through that.  But as time went on and I grew, I realized that there was a part of myself that really did want to have children, and that I had matured into someone who could BE a good parent, loving yet firm without being a perfectionist.  To our dismay, we discovered that I was unable to have children at that point.  Ironic, don't you think?  So we started talking adoption.  Since then we have talked about it, even started the process, but never followed through.  There are always reasons, of course, money...time...are we really ready?...that sort of thing, but the end result has been that we remain where we started several years ago.  This year is the year of do or die.  Either we do it, or the idea dies.  I am getting to the age where I think it will be difficult to get approved to adopt.  Thus the goal of getting the paperwork and required training done, or just letting go of the idea and knowing that our legacy will have to carry forward in other ways.
• Fat Lady Foods is at the tipping point, and this year's goal is to push it into the next stage.  I want to be able to pay myself by the end of the year.  I don't expect to be able to pay myself a high enough salary that I can stop working at the bank all together, but I want to make progress in that direction.  Thus there will be less time spent playing games or reading Facebook, and more time spent searching out new shows to do, exploring new product lines, making sure that paperwork is current so there's no end of the year rush to get it all together, and exploring new marketing opportunities.  The business won't build itself, and I refuse to let this follow the pattern of other ideas I've had in the past.  I refuse to let it die from some strange need I seem to have to create my own downfall, self-sabotage at its finest.  I love working my business, and I will move forward and let it grow the way that it should rather than holding it and myself back because I'm too scared to succeed.
• I adore our house, but you couldn't tell that by looking at it.  There are so many aspects of it that need care and we have been bad about treating it the way that we should.  My home will never be a showplace.  We actually live in it, and there's no denying it.  I am very realistic about the chances of getting The Husbeast to remember to always close cupboard doors when he's done in them, or to put things back when he's finished using them.  His mind just doesn't work that way.  Not to say that the chaos in our house is all his fault.  I have my own bad habits about letting things pile up instead of putting them where they should go as they come into the house.  But this will be a year where one of my foci is to get the house and yard in better shape.  Money will have to be spent, but if it means we eat out / order in less and actually spend money on things like new gutters, getting the garage fixed up, getting a new living room ceiling, and having the landscaping done, then that is what happens.  I want to be proud of my home.  I am tired of being ashamed of how it looks, or describing it as "The house with the scraggly yard and weeds." when people are looking for it.
• Not all of my goals for the year are huge ones.  I have smaller ones as well.  I want to read 104 books this year.  That was my goal for 2015 and I only managed to read 67 of them.  I will try again to have a good mix of fluff, philosophy, history, science, biography, and classic literature.  I think that my spread of subjects has always been good, so that doesn't need improving.  I do, however, have to work on the huge list of reading subjects that I've written down as I've run across things I want to learn more about.  I would like to strike some of them through to make room for more.
• I have declared this to be The Year of Pinterest!  I have over 2,000 pins on my Pinterest boards between recipes, cross stitch patterns, and coloring pages, among other things.  I am going to work to clear some of those and determine whether they are keepers or not.  The recipes I decide to keep will go into my recipe software for future use.  The craft projects and cross-stitch patterns will get printed out and put into a binder.  I will begin another binder for prepper information.  I know, I know, the image of preppers is  that of crazy people sure that the gubmint is gonna come after us all.  My concern is for natural disaster preparation AND for possible civil issue preparation, but the main concern for me is to know we can survive at a basic comfort level if a hurricane strikes or a major ice storm leaves us iced in for a long time, or an earthquake hits.  None of these are beyond the realm of possibility, and I don't think that it is foolish to be ready just in case.  So, there will be a binder prepared with important information should the vast resources of the internet suddenly become unavailable.
• Finally, I want to write more.  I want to write more blog posts, I want to get more stories out there in submission, and I want to do serious work on the novel series I have in mind.  I'm sure I'll have plenty of free time to do this *snerk* but seriously, if it is important, then we find the time, right?  So my goal is to find the time and make it work.

These are most of my major goals for the year.  I'm sure that they will morph and change as the days and weeks go by, but this is where I am starting 2016 in my mind.  I can't wait to see where the year ends up and the changes that happen between now and then.

Have a wonderful new year, everyone.  I hope that your year contains everything that you hope it will, and little to none of the things we all fear it will hold.  Let's make this a good one, shall we?

A Year of Pinterest: Christmas Breakfast Experiment (An Early Start)

Anyone who knows me can tell you how much I love to cook...and how much I hate to measure.  I'm really a "throw it in and taste it to see what it is missing" kind of girl.

This morning's holiday breakfast was an experiment, and I had no idea if it would come out well, or if our breakfast would consist only of bacon and hash browns because the main course failed spectacularly.  Luckily, it did NOT fail.  So, to help myself remember (and because I have a feeling people will ask), here's what I did...and the changes I'll make for next time.

Crockpot Apple and Cranberry French Toast Casserole

Ingredients:

2 loaves French or Italian bread, torn into pieces
8 eggs
2 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled and cut into chunks
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1 cup brown sugar, packed
2 sticks butter, cut into chunks
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Ground Ginger

Instructions:

1. Tear bread into chunks and put chunks into large crockpot
2. Add apple chunks and cranberries, toss to mix well
3. Whisk together eggs, milk, cream, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger, adjusting spices to your personal levels of taste
4. Pour egg mixture over bread.  Using a spatula or large spoon, gently fold bread mixture so that the bread on the top gets down into the eggs and cream, then press the whole thing down with the backof the spoon to pack it in tightly.
5. Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top of the bread.
6. Distribute the butter chunks on top of the brown sugar.
7. Cook on low for 6 to 8 hours, keep an eye on the edges as they will crisp up toward the end and may start to burn if not watched.

Serve with maple syrup.

Changes I'll make next time:

More apples.

More cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger

More brown sugar and mix some of it with the egg mixture

All in all, quite tasty, and as it cooked overnight it was ready when we got up (and the house smelled GREAT!)

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, Blessed Yule, Happy Chanukah, and any other holidays I missed! 

Are the deaths worth it to you?

Multiple shooting incidents occurred today in the United States, at least two of which are classified as "mass shootings".  As many people have died from gunshot wounds in the United States in the past five weeks as have died from terrorism since 2001.  There have been more mass shootings in the United States in 2015 as of this date than there have been days in the year.

Are all of those deaths worth it to you?  Are all of those deaths worth not even having a conversation about making it harder for people to get guns?  And before you pull out the "criminals will still have access to guns" argument, let me point out that the vast majority of these shootings are committed by people who bought their guns legally.  If even one of these people had been stopped or delayed in their purchase of a firearm by a simple background check or licensing requirement, then that many more people would still be alive today.  Even ONE life saved by putting basic controls in place is worth it to me, and I don't understand why anyone would disagree with that idea.  We license cars, we require drivers tests, and yet people don't say, "Criminals still drive cars without licenses!  We should stop licensing everything!"

I honestly cannot tell you how many days I have sat in my workplace, or walked down the hall of the building I work in, and worked out in my mind different ways that I could react if someone came in looking to kill people.  I think about things like how they would get in, what direction they would likely have to come from, and where I could go to keep cover between myself and the terrorist.  I think about whether I would have the courage to try and stop them if I had the opportunity, and what weapons of opportunity I would have available to me.  I think about how likely I am to be a victim since I don't move quickly or well.  I think about the fact that my cellphone has to be kept in my locker due to federal banking regulations, so I wouldn't even get to text my husband with a goodbye, or an "I love you".

Is it worth it to you that people have to do this kind of thing?  Is it worth it that children in our schools have to have drills to teach them what to do if some terrorist comes in wielding a loaded weapon and starts killing their teachers and classmates in cold blood?  I still remember the nuclear bomb drills from when I was a child, and how the whole concept terrorized me. Do you think it will be any different for these children?  They'll always remember crouching silently in a closet, hoping it isn't real.

I do not understand the mindset that believes that basic licensing and checks equate automatically to the government coming in and stripping everyone of their guns everywhere (though, I have to admit, that idea appeals to me on days like today).  How can there be such a cut and dried view of the world.  Either this or that, and nothing in between, that is how they see it, and there is no reality where any such clean lines cut through the chaos of life.  There will always be grey areas, and there will always be exceptions to rules.

There will always be that one person who slips through despite the background check and licensing requirements.  There will always be the criminals who obtain guns on the black market.  There is no stopping that, this is true.  But I have yet to see any proof that everyone else having guns will keep our citizens safer.  Yes, there will be the one or two stories of a "good guy with a gun" who stopped the terrorist, but those stories are rare compared to the instances of people who have abused their right to own a firearm and who have made innocent people suffer and die as a result of that abuse.

These people are terrorists.  Despite the hysteria being whipped up by the rhetoric of the fear-mongers, they aren't foreigners.  They aren't immigrants.  They aren't refugees.  They are Americans, born and raised here, secure in their belief that somehow that fact protects them from the title that they have earned.  Terrorists.  Let's not call them "shooters" or "lone wolves", let's call them what they are...terrorists.

I'm tired of not even having the opportunity to have a civilized conversation about these terrorists and ways that we can limit the damage that they do.  Between the politicians that have been purchased by the NRA, the conspiracy theorists who believe that even the smallest concession to public safety is the beginnings of an attempt to force a dictatorship on them where they have no recourse because they are completely disarmed, and the hate-based rhetoric flying from all corners, the rational voices can't even be heard over the din.

How many more will have to die for us to wake up and realize what we are doing to ourselves?  How many more lives will be "worth it" before change finally happens?

I'm scared to know the answer to those questions, really.  Are you?

My Head Hurts

Three little words that seem so innocuous, so simple.  "My head hurts."  That's all.  And when a lot of people say that, it means just that...their head hurts.  They have a headache.  If they take some aspirin and get some sleep, maybe if they eat something because their sugar has bottomed out, then they'll feel better.

And then there are those who suffer from migraines.

Some "fun" facts for you from The Migraine Research Foundation:

• Migraine is an extremely debilitating collection of neurological symptoms.

• Migraine is a severe recurring intense throbbing pain on one side of the head, although in about 1/3 of attacks, both sides are affected.

• Attacks  are often accompanied by one or more of the following: visual disturbances, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, extreme sensitivity to sound, light, touch and smell, and tingling or numbness in the extremities or face.

• In 15-20% of attacks, other neurological symptoms occur before the actual head pain.

• Attacks usually last between 4 and 72 hours.

Something that I never knew until I was several years into suffering from what I originally called "My Four Day Headaches" is that migraines are more like epileptic seizures than headaches.  That is why they don't respond to headache medicine, because you are treating the wrong thing when you take headache pills for a migraine.  You could have knocked me over with a feather when a doctor finally explained this to me.  No wonder the handfuls of over the counter remedies weren't doing anything except making me nauseous.

Go back and read item numbers 2 and 3 in the list above.  Please note the words "severe", "extreme", and "attacks".  Every migraine sufferer has individual combinations of symptoms, and no two people ever have the exact same migraine,but something that they all have in common is that they are deeply, frighteningly painful.  A minute with one can seem like an hour, and an hour can seem like days.  But again, each person's migraine is different.  I have one friend who has to be in a completely dark and silent room when they get a migraine, because any light or noise at all will ricochet through their head like a bullet inside a bell.  On the other hand, I am generally okay with basic levels of light and sound, though really bright or flourescent lights hurt and anything louder than a normal conversational level can be like I'm sitting inside a bass drum while someone beats on it with Muppet-like energy.  My biggest issue is scent and focus.  I have a hard time focusing my eyes, so I squint a lot when I'm dealing with an episode, and the slightest whiff of a scent is overwhelming to me and spikes the pain.

Yeah, I'm loads of fun in the workplace.  I literally had to move desks so that I could have a cube with high walls in order to help block scents.  What seems like an ordinary, inoffensive amount of perfume or cologne to most people is horribly strong to me, to the point where it seems like the person bathed in it.  It isn't THEIR fault, they didn't really overuse it, my system is just overreacting and using that slight breath of scent as a reason to start ringing a klaxon inside my head. Sometimes it feels like that is literally true, not just a way of describing it.

At this point the pain starts, usually behind one of my eyes, and begins spreading.  Again, everyone experiences it differently, this is just a description of my typical migraine.  Soon my entire forehead feels as though someone has wrapped it in a red-hot steel band about an inch wide and is squeezing it tighter and tighter.  At the same time there is a small work crew inside my skull working with increasing intensity to drill holes through both of my temples.  Another crew is apparently using pickaxes to try and dig my eyeballs free of their sockets.  The pain continues to spread, working its way around to the back of the head and then down the neck muscles.  You know how everyone kind of did that scrunch up and twist their faces up thing whenever Spock did the Vulcan Neck Pinch in Star Trek?  Imagine what they were trying to get you to think it felt like. Now, quadruple that in intensity, and put it on both sides of your neck at once.  It isn't exact, but it is a rough approximation of what it is actually like.

Soon your back muscles and your shoulder muscles start to tighten because, well...PAIN.  What do you do when you hurt? You clench your muscles,of course!  It is a natural reaction. Eventually it is all that you can do to just curl up in bed, pull the covers over your head, and wish someone would just come and take a sledgehammer to your brain to get it all over with.  

This can last a few hours...or days at a time.  My average generally runs around 3 days at this intensity, my longest so far has been six days straight.  That is at the 8, 9, 10 end of the 1 to 10 pain scale most medical professionals use.  Quite frankly,I rarely have a day where I do NOT have a migraine of some kind.  If I'm lucky, it is down around a 2 or a 3. By now that has become so normal for me that you probably can't even tell I have one. I go to work, do my job, run my business, and do everything I need to do. The extras don't get done, of course, because walking about in constant pain is so much more draining than anyone can ever realize who hasn't had to do it.  But that's why they have lawn mowing services and house cleaning services.

On the 4 through 7 days, I can generally still do minimal functioning.  At the lower end of that I have been known to go to work.  Sometimes if it is one of the times when light actually is bothering me, I'll work at my desk wearing sunglasses.  I've never been so glad I actually splurged on those prescription sunglasses last time I went to the eye doctor.

I miss work because of the migraines.  I have FMLA Intermittent Leave for them.  I try not to use it, and most months I don't use all that I qualify for because I make myself go in to work anyway, but I am very glad it is there for the times when I can't even sit up without the room spinning and my head exploding.

This has gotten longer than I intended.  It isn't meant for self-pity, or to get people to pat me on the back and tell me how brave I am or whatever.  I decided to write this blog post because I need people to understand that when I, or anyone who suffers migraines, says those three little words a whole lot more is meant by them than what you may realize.  So if a migraine sufferer says to you, "My head hurts.", don't respond with disbelief, or scorn, don't imply by your tone or your words that the person is just using that as an excuse and could totally work through the pain if they only put their mind to it. They can't.  Believe me, they would love to be able to never have to deal with migraines again.  They would love to not be exhausted from constantly being in pain.  They would love to be able to plan things with their friends and not have to bow out at the last moment.  They would even love being able to get up for work every morning with no more worries than whether the alarm clock went off on time or they hit snooze one time too many.

Trust me, what they are dealing with sucks.  You wouldn't want to change places with them.  If they love you, they wouldn't let you anyway because they know what a hell it can be. So cut them some slack, understand that they're doing the best they can, and let them know that it is okay.  They need to hear it, because they're being harder on themselves for letting people down than anyone else could ever be on them.

Now I'm going to go take another prescription because my head hurts.

Sometimes I get tired of fighting, but I will continue to do so even though I'm tired.

I just saw a clickbait article on someone else's Facebook feed.  The title was:  "20 people confess to the fattest thing they have ever done.  These are sickening."

I don't understand the linking of the words "fat" and "sickening".  I'm fat, and I would like to think that I'm rarely sickening (though sometimes I may step into that arena deliberately to be outrageous, but it never has anything to do with my size).  Fat is just a word that describes the physical form of a body.  It doesn't mean "sickening", or "gross", or "slovenly", or "lazy", or "stupid" or any number of other negative connotations.  I wish that people would stop adding to those assumptions by supporting that kind of association with the word.  I'm fat.  I'm smart. I have good hygiene.  My house is cluttered, but not dirty.  I am many things, but despite my comments about having the occasional lazy day, I really am NOT a lazy person.  I get a lot done with my life.

It really is frustrating and tiring to constantly be battling against such stereotypes.  And before anyone says that I don't have to battle them, please stop and think.  I battle them just by existing.  Every time I get on an airplane and see the panic in people's faces as I approach them or the relief as I pass them by, I fight the battle.  Every time that I go to a theatre and find the seats give me bruises on my hips, I fight the battle.  Every time I see a commercial showing someone proclaiming how much better they are as a person because they lost X amount of weight, I fight the battle.

I don't think that people who don't fight battles on a daily basis can understand how wearing it can be on you.  It is exhausting, and because it is something that really cannot change (95% of people who lose large amounts of weight regain it, usually plus some, within five years), the battle will never end.  I can survive anything for the short term.  I know I can, I've done it.  But knowing that you will fight the same battle over again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, every day until you die...to say that it wears you down is a vast understatement.

The fight will continue, though.  Hopefully someday there will come a day when people don't judge.  That day will not ever happen in my lifetime, but maybe by fighting my fight, I can help inch us toward that goal.  An inch isn't very far when there are thousands of miles to go, but inches add up.

That's what I tell myself, anyway, on days like today when I'm feeling tired and worn down.  Hopefully this inch will add up to the rest eventually.  Even though right now it feels like there's no forward motion at all.