Hello Sweet Friends,
I sit quietly before this computer with a kitty-cat grin on my face (you know the one your kitty gets when he settles next to you after he's just had a nibble of food and you absentmindedly stroke him as you read through the afternoon with nothing in particular pressing on your time. That, my friends, shall describe this day for me (at least I hope it will). After a week's worth of gatherings, meetings, marketing, traveling (to Costco for a pantry replenishing trip), and such, I have set aside this day for respite.
I found myself rising later than usual -- sweet delight -- feeling well rested. I stepped upon the scale and found to my delight I have returned to my normal readings. Recently, I embarked on a trial with an herbal from India designed to reduce blood pressure with NO side effects (or so they claimed). I ordered the reasonably-priced packet, downed the AWFUL smelling tablets with plenty of water, and then waited. The results came in swiftly, as my regular evening blood pressure readings dropped noticeably over the course of the trial treatment. Hitting 122/78 felt like a dream after readings of 141/90 (which prompted the whole medication route with the doctor some years ago).
I continued with the foul-odored pills and plenty of water for flushing of toxins and rejuvenating of my system, finding my BP readings comfortably worth the twice-a-day regime.
Periodically I inquired whether anyone found my ankles puffy or my eyes swollen. Nope, everyone thought I looked beautiful. (Silly ones, I fished not for a compliment, but truly felt swollen . . . and so sluggish.) I dragged through the day, allowing vacuuming to wait a day and dinner to become more of stuff-and-nonsense and less of feasting-and-rejoicing. Still no complaints from my family, so I surmised that I had just depleted my energies with so much entertaining over the early summer days and must pay the price now.
Stepping on the scale began to bother me . . . another pound? And so I cut my dinner portions and eliminated my simple snacks in the evening. I felt hungry, tired, but happy to have lowered my BP readings.
Then the scale registered another pound gained after a day of near fasting and lots of water! In addition my bodily functions seemed to have screeched to a halt. Still I pressed on believing I was just "adjusting" . . . until I saw the pictures from our spinning date with my friend Adele -- I screeched out when I saw the pictures of this dumpling woman at the wheel, all moon-faced and pudgy of ankles. "That can't be ME!!" I gasped. Still the scale cried out, "One more pound for the day!" My common sense kicked in and I stopped the ayervedic approach. Abruptly. I collapsed in prayer and asked the Lord WHY? To which I distinctly felt a twinge of guilt . . . if I trusted God to manage my bigger life issues, and even enlisted my friends as prayer partners. then why grab onto the stinky-pills and swallow for comfort I could touch? I didn't beat myself up emotionally, but I did cry on Gary's shoulder, though the loss of water-weight from that activity registered little improvement. My BP shot back up to 144/88 and I felt so low.
The next day I drank tea, paced my schedule, and prayed for relief. Despite running errands and replenishing the pantry, just in case the predicted epidemic hits, I managed to make it through the day, flopping into bed to find my BP slightly lowered. Hmmmmm . . .
Over the course of the next several days I dropped a pound a day and my body returned to all of its normal functioning. Today I beamed at the scale to see my normal weight register . . . and then I promptly wondered if I should try to ride this wave for a bit longer in hopes of stripping off another five or so pounds. Hmmmmmmm . . . ; D
Have I reached the happily ever after page yet? Hardly -- BUT . . . my BP read 122/77 last night. Now that's something to celebrate!!!
I hesitated to blog about this because it is so indicting to me and may possibly hurt another who struggles with their own road including medications, ayervedics, and all manner of other treatments. Please do not see this as a brag or a suggestion or even a warning . . . it is merely a confession of a woman who called her friends into prayer and then ran off down her own path. When she met with scary things she didn't come and share that with her friends, she hid in shame or worse . . . fear that they would judge her a fool. Sadly, I thought I had conquered this foible of self long ago, but clearly I still care what people think of me in an unhealthy way (and fear the worst). In reading some of your blogs of late I see pages and pages of personal outpourings filled with prayer needs, fears, medical trials, family frayings, and so much more. The honesty stings my eyes at times. Tears fall for people I have never met, nor may EVER meet. This bloggy thing still amazes me! I want to be a part of this ever-changing, honest, deep, light, silly, serious community of honest folks walking their own path without apology or shame.
And so I have set aside this Respite Wednesday for sipping tea, reading a new/old book on traveling the islands surrounding Britain (something I am most interested in doing some day), and stroking my kitty. Dinner will be a chicken stewed in my new Lodge dutch oven with potatoes, carrots, fragrant herbs, and a topper of sourdough dumplings ( a new creation based on the biscuit recipe from Mrs. Boast). I have had such fun playing with sourdough. I have few recipes but plenty of kitchen chemistry tucked under my belt and am thus inventing new twists on old themes and running with some of those pioneer women who once upon a time shaped a new California cuisine out of necessity and need.
I recently received a very old starter portion from my spinning/weaving friend Adele, and it is most delicious. It dates back many, many years passed from one to another of the locals in these parts. I recently read that a sourdough starter takes its flavor from the surrounding wild yeast. Thus a starter began in San Francisco, with a most pungent sourness, will lose that flavor when transported to say Vermont, where the wild yeasts have a much milder flavor. Fascinating! Unfortunately I neglected my whole wheat starter with the entrance of the new "girl" on the block who arrived in the midst of a medical flummox for me. Sadly I dumped it, but will try again another day. I love my culinary lab!
As for today . . . Respite Wednesday . . . I shall relax, rejuvenate, and revel in the joys found in the start of a string of days with not a single appointment inked in until next mid-week. Such luxury.
Now where's that book? I hear the kettle singing. It promises to be a very good day around here. I wish the same for you.