The latest in a series of unfortunate events I won't go into too much detail on the events of last Thrusday and Friday, but it was a miserable experience for both my husband and myself. Mostly for him, but for me, being the one trying to help someone in agonizing pain, it was traumatic.
My husband had a partial root canal on a crack tooth on Wednesday. It was crack all the way to the end of the root. The dentist, a new one for my husband, said he would have to complete the root canal the following week. In hindsight we realize this was ridiculous. My husband should have seen an Endodontist, someone who specialized in saving cracked teeth with root canals, but we didn't know, and I guess the new dentist didn't either. Less than 24 hours later my husband called me from his car, stuck in rush hour traffic and screaming with pain, trying to get to the dentist, a good hour drive from his office.
Long story short, by the time I got to him he thought he was having a heart attack but still insisted on going to his dentist. In hindsight I should have driven him straight to the hospital. Forty-five minutes later in the worst traffic ever we arrive at the dentist. My husband is now sure he's having a heart attack. The dentist immediately called 911, they transport him to ER.
They continually ask him his pain level on a scale of 0 - 10, he says it's a 12. They finally get enough pain meds in him to calm him down. His blood pressure drops to almost normal (it was 211/110 at the dentist's office). They kept him overnight for observation, and determined through additional tests and blood work that he did not have a heart attack.
He's currently on a very strong pain medicine, Dilaudid (7 times stronger than morphine) and now only has a dull throbbing in the tooth. He's also in a much more pleasant mood. I told him maybe he needs a permanent prescription of this stuff.
So that was Thursday and Friday. Two really rough days that neither of us have recovered from.
My father-in-law Two weeks ago today my father-in-law passed away. I have mixed feelings on this. I know my husband is devastated over it, but I just don't feel much of anything. I almost feel guilty about that, but I didn't have a relationship with him. I'm relieved he is no longer in pain, and relieved my husband doesn't have to fly to Denver ever weekend as he has done since Memorial Day weekend. It's been a very long, sad summer.
The cat with nine lives, Miss MookieWe talked to the neighbors that shot our cat. Really, it was my husband and the police that talked to them. I opted out of the conversation. They denied everything, but their 14-year kid target practices on the other side of the fence in our back yard. The 22-pellet gun he uses shoots the exact same type of pellet that is permanently lodges in Mookie's hip. It's hour-glass shaped. We have the x-ray that clearly shows an hour-glass shaped pelllet.
Regardless, they denied it so there's nothing else we can do. The Tacoma police were amazing. Two young, extremely good-looking officers showed up at our door when my husband called to report the incident.They were very kind and understanding, and they were as angry as we were over the shooting. After they talked to the neighbors, with my husband, they came back over to our house. The officers said the kid acted nervous and they're pretty sure he did it, but they couldn't charge him with the crime. They said the family is on notice now and they really doubt anything like this will happen again. I hope they're right. Mookie is doing great. You'd never even know she had been shot. Still acts like a kitten and is as happy as can be.
The real purpose of this blog...WEIGHT LOSS!So it finally happened. I've had enough. I'm fed up with being fat, with my clothes not fitting, of trying to buy clothes in the fat ladies department where everything is ugly. I'm tired of feeling icky and tired. I'm tired of life passing me by. You know the feeling, when one day you wake up and go, I'm sick and tired of this and I'm going to do something about it.
The really weird thing is that my best friend emailed me on the exact day I had this thought, last Tuesday. She asked me if I would go back to Weight Watchers with her? Yes! A hundred times yes!
We had our first meeting yesterday, Saturday. The only bad thing was our favorite leader, Janis, wasn't there. Her daughter had gone into labor so she was at the hospital. No one even compares to her enthusiasm or sense of humor, so it was a boring meeting. Janis will be back next week, and we managed to get through the meeting.
We got the materials and sat through the little introduction for the Power Start, which was not impressive. I'm sure it's because the leader wasn't my favorite. I already lost the PowerStart tracking book for the first week, but I do everything online anyway. I really love the phone app and the scanner. I'd just started using those when I quit last time. This time I'm never going to quit. N-E-V-E-R.
My starting weight: 221.6 <---I could say a whole lot of bad stuff about this but I think the number speaks for itself.
ExerciseAlong with diet comes exercise. I've actually been doing a bit better lately in the exercise department. I went three times last week to the gym. Now that's no where near where I want to be but it's a vast improvement from the zero to maybe one or two times a week I had been going. It's really hard getting back into it, but there's really no option. I have to exercise. If I don't, I feel awful mentally and physically. I think for someone my age, 57, exercise just is NOT optional. If you don't use it, you lose it. Pushing my sister around in a wheelchair really brings it home that I do not want to ever wind up in a wheelchair.
On that note, my husband is napping (it's 4pm), so I'm going to go to the gym for a good workout. I feel great. Happy, energetic, and on track with my food. It's amazing what eating healthy for just 24 hours can do for a person.
Welcome back Diana.
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