Changing Seasons

This past summer, my garden was mostly flowers, as I only had about 5-6 vegetables remaining in my food repertoire. I still made room for those veggies in the raised bed; surrounding them with marigolds, poppies, and sweet peas. Then, promptly after sowing     the seeds, I had a flare that took most of those remaining vegetables off my list.

As I watched sprouts break through the soil a few weeks later, I resigned myself to the fact that it would all go to friends, or the office, or the food bank, come harvest time.

I started my DNRS brain retraining in mid-June; flowers were coming into full bloom, the lettuce was starting to look like lettuce, the parsley was just starting to get tall. During the summer, I did many of my 'rounds' (the set of retraining practices I do each day) in my back yard, often facing the garden; my bare feet in the cool grass, grounding me and connecting me to nature as I calmed my limbic system.

I was growing vegetables and neurons at the same time.

Iceberg lettuce was one of the vegetables I was still eating; I grew it for the first time this year, and I loved being able to grab leaves at will to add to my meals (also, non-mass-produced iceberg lettuce has so much more flavour!).

The Brussels sprouts never sprouted, so their leafy stalks got yanked.

The rutabaga found homes among my coworkers.

Rhubarb was shared with one friend.

Raspberries with another.

I found I loved having the energy to work the garden, even if I wasn't eating most of it. 

By late summer, the only vegetable remaining in the ground was the carrots. I just couldn't part with them. I pulled them on a warm afternoon in September, carefully scrubbing, slicing, blanching, bagging, and then tucking them into the freezer.

Since starting my DNRS program, I've actually nibbled on small, single bites of a few different foods here and there, though my limbic system was clear each time that it was still outside my training zone. I knew that many people in the program had been able to start reintroducing foods almost immediately, while many others didn't even start reintroductions until after the initial 6-month training period. I was starting to get the sense that my nervous system might be in the latter category.

Accepting this was almost as hard to digest as food.

But I still wanted to try.

A couple weeks ago, I pulled a slice of carrot from one of the bags in the freezer. Mixed it into my meal. And I don't know if it was the love and care that went into growing them, or the new neural pathways, or both, but my limbic system considered it from all angles, and said,

"Okay 🙂"

via GIPHY

The Outcome of Persisting Exhaustion and Exhaustive Persistence

I was in a discussion once on social media about navigating the medical system. Someone commented, "It's a full-time extra job being undiagnosed." Tell me about it; I just got out of that maze.

It started with food intolerances; as I'd had a "sensitive" gut since childhood, everything seemed to point to a gut issue... until about two years in, when I started to connect feelings of extreme lethargy and brain fog to physical activity and/or stress (both positive and negative).

Maybe it's not just a gut issue...

I had already started poking at the medical system because of the newly-developed food intolerances, and so I continued to hop around from specialist to specialist--while also regularly visiting a variety of medical professionals to help manage the symptoms-of-unknown-origin. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't even care about getting better--I just wanted to know what was wrong.

The anxiety is high when every bite of food feels risky.

The apathy weighs heavy while you wait for the brain fog to clear.

You can start to feel crazy making so many lifestyle changes without a clear idea as to why.

(Thank God for my therapist.)

I was given a diagnosis of IBS in 2020; by then I already knew that it wasn't the only thing going on. In one of my down-the-rabbit-hole, anything-new-I-can-learn-today searches, I came across a list of symptoms on the CDC website that I hadn't seen before. My eyes grew large as I read a list of criteria for which I checked nearly every box. I asked my GP if it was worth looking into, and she referred me on to someone who might be able to answer that question.

Four years, and six specialists later, I have a diagnosis. An internal specialist confirmed that my symptoms and experience tell the story of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis--or, as it's more commonly known, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. (I will refer to it by its abbreviation, ME/CFS.)

A surprisingly common, yet poorly diagnosed disorder.

They tell you not to Google your own diagnoses, but at this point in my journey--two gastroenterologists, an internal specialist, rheumatologist, allergist, general surgeon, two dieticians, two naturopathic doctors, my GP, a chiropractor, two acupuncturists, and a massage therapist--we had eliminated and screened for a lot of different things; and, not a single medical professional had even whispered ME/CFS as a possibility. I honestly think it wasn't even in their mental catalogue of options. How long would it have taken to get this diagnosis if I hadn't regularly been checking for new information online?!

Diagnosis day was a good day.

ME/CFS is categorized by the World Health Organization as a neurological disorder. When my food intolerances first came about, I felt as if something in my body had short-circuited. Then, with the IBS diagnosis, I learned that part of the issue is mixed signals between the brain and the gut. Now, seeing ME/CFS as a neurological disorder, it really does seem that my circuits are a bit scrambled!

Will the circuits ever get fixed? Hard to tell. Like the wiring in an old house, there may be only so much that can be done. Some people get worse. Some get better. Most plateau at something less than 100% of their original health. There's no real prognosis. Right now, I just know that I'm prone to flip my breakers more often than others.

It's not life-threatening.

The internal specialist who diagnosed me said I've been doing everything right so far to manage my symptoms and take care of myself. After my appointment, I promptly joined a couple support groups (one local, one online), and I'm hoping to add more tools to my toolkit as time goes on.

I will keep poking the medical system as needed.

I don't know how much I'll share online--with some exceptions, I tend to keep most of the details of my health experiences to myself and those closest to me. However, I know that there is power in community. I know that advocating for myself is important, and sharing parts of my story may help you advocate for and empathize with others. In essence, I now live with a disability--it's a new perspective on something that's been important to me for many, many years. And, as stated before, this is a poorly diagnosed condition--because (as I'm learning) it is poorly understood and poorly researched. If I can help increase understanding, then perhaps someone in the future will not have to go through four years of emotional and physical turmoil before getting a diagnosis.

They're likely tired enough already.

* Image source: https://steller.co/s/there-are-4dxR2bfkaYN/p/1

SOTC 364/365

Aware

I caught in my Twitter feed the other day that the High Level Bridge was being lit up for Food Allergy Awareness Week. My eyebrows furrowed; there's a Food Allergy Awareness week? (Of course there is.)

The High Level Bridge will be teal tonight for @FoodAllergyCAN's Food Allergy Awareness Week. #yeg #foodallergies https://t.co/3zEWsYStpo

— High Level Bridge (@YEG_HighLevel) May 17, 2019

I've become more aware of food allergies and sensitivities recently than I ever wanted to become. Something in my system short-circuited last year, and I now find myself allergic to gluten, dairy, egg, and soy. ...Plus a handful of intolerances on top of that.*

So when it comes to food these days, I'm aware of everything.

I'm not quite out of the woods yet in this journey, but I'd like to share a little bit of what I've learned with you. Let you into a bit of my reality. Because increased awareness of any cause or condition doesn't just come from lighting a bridge in pretty colours. It comes from the shared stories of the people who live the experience.

I am fortunate that my new "health condition" isn't debilitating or life-threatening. But it is chronic. And nevertheless life changing. My heart breathes a sigh of relief when I hold out my laundry list of allergies and am met with empathy.

May this shed light on how you might be that person to others as well.

So. Some thoughts on [my] food allergies in no particular order:


No, I can't cheat.

Allergies are an immune response. Every time I consume an allergen, it stresses out my immune system, thus putting my health at risk. Also, just because my allergies aren't life-threatening doesn't mean they don't make me uncomfortable. Stinging and watery eyes, congestion, heartburn, headaches, shortness of breath, lethargy... sure, that sounds like tons of fun; said no one, ever.

The intolerances are, in their own way, worse. With those, some foods don't get broken down like they should. Worst case scenario, molecules run the risk of passing through my intestines into my body and blood stream not fully metabolized--which could seriously damage my gut over time. Best case scenario is the molecules bypasses digestion and land in my colon, where they are glutted upon by my gut flora, causing uncomfortable bloating and/or socially embarrassing flatulence** for up to twelve hours.

So no, I'm not going to cheat.


No, there's no going back.

I've had people ask if I'm back to eating regular food yet. Here's the thing: I likely won't ever be going back to "regular" food. With the support of a registered dietician, I went through a rigorous elimination and reintroduction process.

But unlike so many eliminations these days, mine was not a fad cleanse.

It was a test.

Most foods passed the test. Several did not. And while allergies can disappear, my understanding is that it's more often the case with childhood allergies that people outgrow. Not sure how long it would take to "outgrow" allergies that start in one's late 30's, but I'm betting it's not anytime soon.


You're right, it is expensive.

I have heard the lament of those who are required to occasionally purchase allergen-free food for someone they know (I used to be one of those people). "Do you know how much it costs to buy the gluten-free kind?" Yes, yes I do. I pay nearly twice as much for 3/4 the amount of food than I did in my pre-allergy life. I also now shop at three different grocery stores, just to have the same variety in my food choices as those without allergies (no store seems to want to carry the same allergen-friendly brands as others; what is up with that?).

It takes extra money, time and energy, just do to the groceries. Consequently, if you are one of the people who have gone out of their way to buy or make me a Gina-friendly snack or meal, know that I absolutely love you.


Eating out sucks.

There is no clearer way to put it than that. For one, I now run the risk of coming across as "that person" with my litany of questions for the server, and the double-triple-checking I make them do. Turns out self-advocacy takes effort and courage--every single time.

In terms of actual eating, the only restaurants I have found--yet--where I can eat with 100% confidence is Freshii and Chopped Leaf, because I can make a custom salad.

But, you guys.

I am so. tired. of salad.

It seems to be all I can order in any mainstream restaurant. And even then, I generally need 2-3 ingredients removed or substituted. I am a salad connoisseur these days; not a title I ever anticipated having.


Travel is stressful.

Because of that eating out thing.

I am so grateful to live in a large urban area where I have at least half a chance at restaurants, as limited as my options may be. Cities also afford access to alternative-style restaurants that cater to diverse dietary requirements (I still have to modify whatever I order, but I feel less judged there. As well, staff at alternative restaurants seem to thrive on the challenge to make me a safe meal, rather than see it as a burden to have to modify the dish). However, when I travel, it generally involves passing through small towns where the definition of salad is iceberg lettuce with tomato and cucumber. That's not going to sustain me.

And even when I find a restaurant that is willing to accommodate, there is always just a hint of worry--what if they miss something? What if my symptoms are worse than before? It's one thing to experience symptoms and just go home; it's another to be out of province and feel crummy.

I'm a bit of a snack-hoarder these days when I travel; and yes, I do pack breakfast in my suitcase--one less meal to purchase is one less meal to stress about.


There was a grieving process.

It took me about four months to realize what I was feeling, but I've experienced legitimate grief in this whole process. I don't like cooking. While I would sometimes try making new dishes, I relied on a collection of easy go-to recipes, mixed in with the occasional convenience meal (e.g. frozen pizza). In addition to now having to make ev-er-y-thing from scratch, suddenly most of the recipes I'd curated over the last 15-20 years were not even an option.

I grieved the loss of this way of being; this routine; this familiarity.

Even more so, I grieved the loss of recipes that I not only enjoyed, but were associated with memories of being shared with others. I can't share those recipes again.

Unlike cooking, I quite enjoy baking. But still, I had to grieve the loss of recipes made for myself and others that could not be adapted, or did not adapt well when I tried (and oh, I tried). While I have started to find new and successful recipes for baked goods, my baking game is still not quite where it used to be. For many reasons, I am still searching for lost joy in this activity.

That being said...


You don't need to feel guilty about eating different food than me.

Okay, I can't actually tell you how to feel. But please know, I don't feel tempted or jealous, nor do I grieve, as you all eat your Hawaiian pizza with double cheese, and I enjoy herb chicken over rice. It's true, I know what I'm missing food-wise. But I also know what I'm missing symptom-wise. And while I'm still on the hunt for a few good alternatives to favourite dishes (like pizza), I am not lacking for good-tasting food overall. Especially as I can still have wine, and dark chocolate, and bacon...


I'm trying not to talk about it all the time.

Really.

I know it worms its way into the conversation every time food makes an appearance. I know it seemed like it was all that was on my mind at first. It was all that was on my mind at first.

It means a lot that you ask how I'm doing. I'm trying to get better at giving a meaningful but concise update; I'd like to get back to regular conversation around the table too. But for all the gains I've made in a year of trial, error, testing, adapting, changing, it still consumes a large portion of my thoughts and routines.

I don't need a bridge to remind me to be aware of food allergies; I'm never not aware.

I see others who've had adult-onset dietary conditions for much longer than myself, and they seem to engage relatively confidently with food. I know I'll get there. I so appreciate the patience and grace that is continually extended.

There is light at the end of this teal tunnel.

Maybe it's that pizza.

*The intolerances have been simmering for years; they just finally seem to have reached the tipping point.
**Like, I don't even want to be in the same room as me.

SOTC 317/365

Compliments to Dandy Lion Confections for letting me photograph their delightful desserts!

#IAmGrateful 21

Nature

Even at -20C, nature still moves about, inviting us into moments of wonder, delight, and awe. I am so grateful.

 

(c) Photos by Gina

 

#IAmGrateful 15

Breakfast

I choose cereal six days out of seven, but I am grateful that I have the option to choose at all. And though I'm rarely actually hungry at the time I need to eat breakfast most days, it keeps me from being a hangry hot mess by 10am--and for that, we should all be grateful!

#IAmGrateful 9

Food

I am grateful for the food on the table, and the company with which I get to share it.

#IAmGrateful 7

Purchase

I stare at this small load of groceries, and I am grateful. I recognize that I can afford to purchase this cart of goods without worrying about whether or not I can pay the mortgage after. And not only can I afford the items within this cart, but generally I can afford multiples of those items.

I have the freedom to choose from a variety of brands and options in every aisle. And I also have the freedom purchase these items from a variety of companies.

Grocery shopping is generally just another errand at the end of the day. But then I consider that this amount of purchasing power and freedom is my experience every time I shop.

And I am grateful all over again.

SOTC 237/365

Next Steps... All 10,000 of Them.

I don't think I can claim baseline anymore.

I've been using my Fitbit--and the app that goes with it--for nearly three months. This has given me plenty of data to start looking at my health habits and what may or may not need to change.

Of course, the simple act of tracking my steps, and logging my food and activities, means I've been making small changes from the get-go, just based on the day-to-day info the FitBit gave me. Never a true baseline when you're analyzing yourself. ;)

Here are some things that Fitbit has brought to light:

My step-count is still up and down depending on the day, but I've noticed that over time, the degree of fluctuation has become smaller, and this summer I've been able to hit 10,000 or close to it more often.

Taking care of my niece and her dog was the easiest way to ensure 10,000 steps. When I was taking care of P, we'd often go for a walk in the morning and in the evening. The other aunty and I found this held much benefit for all four of us.* Admittedly, it's taken some concerted effort to get to 10,000 steps outside of those two weeks. More on that in a bit.

In terms of food, I've learned that I eat most of my calories at lunch.
I've learned that Timbits have less calories than I thought.
I've learned that cookies have more.

I've also learned that in general, my calorie intake is about half-and-half; half the time I go over what Fitbit deems to be my ideal daily intake, and half the time I'm under or "in the zone." I don't have big ambitions to lose weight; I'm at a healthy weight as it is--I would just like to keep it there. When I'm over the recommended intake for the day, it's generally only by about 100-150 calories. Which is kinda reassuring, if mildly aggravating. But by the time I'd be logging my bedtime snack at 11pm, I'd be in no position to go for a 20-min walk around the neighbourhood; I was ready for bed.

In terms of what I'm actually consuming...

• I am right on par with the recommended consumption of sodium (I actually thought I'd be way over).
• My average potassium intake is significantly below the maximum (I only consume about 1/4 of the max).
• My calcium intake is about half of what it should be. Hmm...
• My sugar intake is about 4x what it should be (not good, but still better than I thought it would be, believe it or not; I have a wicked sweet tooth).
• I'm somewhat short on fibre.
• My cholesterol is really good.*

So, overall, not a bad 'report card.' But it's got me thinking about improving and maintaining, especially with autumn coming--back to sitting at a desk, and eventually, the cold, dark days of winter.

I've stopped tracking my meals, because the overall quantity I'm consuming seems to be okay, and it's actually quite the time-consuming commitment to log everything I put into my mouth. I need to consider my sugar and fibre intake, but I'm going to look at that more in terms of what I'm eating, not how much.

What I want to focus on first is my step count. Like I said, it's been... challenging to get to 10,000 steps each day without a child, a dog, or trips to big-box stores.

I've conquered embedding small amounts of extra steps here and there. I park further away from buildings. I choose walk-in over drive-through banking. I pace the house while I brush my teeth.

I notice the benefits of walking more, but it hasn't become routine. I still compare. Would I like to take a half-hour walk, or spend a half-hour in my hammock with a good book? Or put in a half-hour of overtime that I can flex later to travel? Or take a half-hour nap because I'm not a morning person and this morning kicked me in the butt? ...The walk doesn't always win. And I even like walking! I think--in part--I'm stuck in a mindset of needing a more tangible purpose in my walking--catching up with a friend, taking books back to the library, an organized photo walk. I need to start reframing the activity so that I view increased health and wellness as the tangible purpose that it actually is. And so begins my challenge.

What do you do to increase your steps? Perhaps I'll try those ideas
too.






* we may have parodied Charlotte Diamond's Four Hugs a Day with, "two walks a day, that's the minimum..." as we strolled down the trail!
** My doctor once told me once that my cholesterol levels were "enviable." Apparently, they still are.

Fit. ...A bit.

I bought a Fitbit.

I'm not sure I ever saw myself as being one of those people, but I guess I'm one of those people.

Over ten years ago, I owned a pedometer for a short amount of time. It was an Avon model--I was selling Avon at the time, so the price was right, and they had just become trendy; why not?

The pedometer was only that--a battery-operated device to count your steps. If you listened carefully, you could hear the ball bearing rock back and forth with each step, and if you weren't careful enough, you could lose the darn thing when it wasn't clipped in the right spot.

Working directly with children, I found it quite easy to hit the recommended 10,000 steps a day; I didn't even have to try. And perhaps because of this, when I got home one day and noticed the pedometer was gone, I was not all that inspired to replace it. I had the knowledge I needed, and the knowledge told me I was a walking rock-star.

Flash forward to present day. Several thoughts have formed together in my mind over the past several months: 1. I call myself moderately 'active,' but 2. I've noticed that I now gain a bit of weight during the winter (losing it again during the summer, but still). 3. I also recognize that I work at a desk far more than I used to and that 4. I've pretty much never counted a calorie a day in my life. Which all leaves me wondering sometimes, am I active enough? To add to my general curiosity, 5. I have always had a somewhat sensitive digestive system, with a general idea of what makes it happy or unhappy, but in some ways it's still a mystery to me, and I find myself wondering is there something I'm missing? 

Enter Fitbit.

Boy, have pedometers have changed in the last ten years.

The device tracks your steps, sure, but also the intensity of your movement--thus estimating calories burned as you walk, as well as how much of your movement qualifies as 'active' (i.e. a 25-min walk to the library as opposed to the 8 steps it takes to get to the photocopier). Also, I can pretty much guarantee this thing will not get lost while I wear it. I'd like to know how many calories I burn just trying to pry the clip open enough to attach it to my pocket.

The device, of course, interacts with the FitBit app, where you can log your meals, your additional physical activity (gardening counts!), and how much water you've had. ...The more expensive models even track your sleeping patterns (I did not invest. That being said, mine appears to still be able to estimate the number of calories burned per hour while sleeping.)

Needless to say, I have opened up doors to a ton of new information about my daily habits.

I've only been in this process for just over a week. As they say in research, I'm still establishing a baseline. My steps vary anywhere from around 4,000 to 15,000, depending on the day. Some days my calorie count is over, some days under, some days "right on target" (all based on the user's weight loss/maintenance/gain goal).

So far I've learned that if my entire day is spent sitting at my desk or in meetings, I'd better not make pasta for supper. On the flip side, apparently the secret to eating KFC at lunch and a Nutella doughnut after supper in the same day and getting away with it lies in nothing more than a morning at the playground and a shopping excursion at Rona.

I've also learned that I'm more active on the weekends than during the week--which makes sense, I guess, since I spend my weekends gardening, cleaning, and generally puttering around; whereas at work, there's a lot of sitting. Still, I've always viewed the weekend as my 'down time,' my chance to 'relax.' Work is where I'm 'busy' and deal with any 'stress' and am 'on the go.' Clearly, I have been categorizing these activities based on how they impact my brain, not how they impact my body. That was a bit of an 'aha' moment.

I'm looking forward to what kinds of patterns I will notice after a month. What kind of impact the information will have on the health decisions I make. What other 'aha' moments lie ahead. So far, I'm parking my car further away from wherever I'm going, but that's about it.

I guess that's a start.

SOTC 72/365

Gee, my living room smells fresh this evening.

SOTC 67/365

Big Beet, a photo by gina.blank on Flickr.
(Nope, not from my garden!)

SOTC 63/365

One Green Apple (SOTC 63/365), a photo by gina.blank on Flickr.

SOTC 8/365

361/365

Taste of Edmonton = Taste of Yum!

347/365

How is it that I haven't had my first ice cream cone until the day before I'm going home?

332/365

Incidentally, this may or may not be my third serving of ice cream today.

324/365

Okay, taking my photo first thing in the morning isn't so bad when my face isn't involved.

That being said, it was still quite a bit more effort than usual to get my still sleep-fuzzy brain to operate the camera.

Mmm.... raspberries.