After being told last year that "Sugar is Poison" by a naturopathic doctor at Canyon Ranch, I have tried to use that as a mantra when faced with a delectable dessert or the prolific office candy dishes full of chocolate treats. Sometimes repeating the mantra to myself works, but lately more often than not, it doesn't and I succumb to what is placed in my path even if I never intended to. I know how Eve must have felt.
So when I saw an ABC News blog post this week with the headline, "Sugar as Dangerous as Alcohol and Tobacco?", it got my attention because of my ongoing attempt to understand my own behavior. The post reported on an article published in the journal, Nature, in which physicians from the University of San Francisco editorialized their views that sugar should be regulated, in much the same way as alcohol and cigarettes. They say that "supply side" restrictions have had some success in moderating behavior and preventing some of the harmful health effects of those substances.
I'm all for regulating sugar. When I worked as a consultant to a health care foundation, our CEO had the sugared sodas removed from the office and restricted the food that could be brought in to the office -- no dumping of excess Halloween or holiday candy or celebrations of birthday parties with cakes. "We're a health care foundation; we shouldn't be serving donuts."
It is easier to control behavior when the environment in controlled. Much of the sugar I end up consuming is second-hand. I eat it because it's there; somebody else put it there.
Anyway tomorrow I am off to another stay at Canyon Ranch; looking forward to a session on sugar addiction. I need detox.
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Friday, February 10, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
Home Care or Just TMI
The holidays are just about over. And they truly were holidays, particularly from the reality of diabetes. I admit to much overindulgence and to taking a break from regular yoga and regular blood sugar testing. But when I had trouble buttoning my pants for work this week, reality had to be faced. I've regained weight that was carefully lost (not all, but enough).
One of the disciplines of diabetes is regular A1C testing completed just before PCP visits. My last one had a happy result. The next one is due in February. But where am I now post-holiday holiday?
Two new recent magazine subscriptions are Diabetic Cooking and Diabetes Self Management. Oh, those were the days when my taste in magazines ran to things like People or Woman's Day.
Inside the front cover of the holiday issue of DC is an offer for $5 off on home A1C testing -- "Finally, an easy way to track my progress, right at home."
In my case I have a feeling that it is an easy way to track my lack of progress or worse yet, my negative progress. Anyway, I printed it out and am off this afternoon in search of 'A1C Now SELFCHECK'. In this circumstance, I do not think that ignorance is bliss. Next PCP visit is fast approaching in February.
It's time for some new year's resolution.
One of the disciplines of diabetes is regular A1C testing completed just before PCP visits. My last one had a happy result. The next one is due in February. But where am I now post-holiday holiday?
Two new recent magazine subscriptions are Diabetic Cooking and Diabetes Self Management. Oh, those were the days when my taste in magazines ran to things like People or Woman's Day.
Inside the front cover of the holiday issue of DC is an offer for $5 off on home A1C testing -- "Finally, an easy way to track my progress, right at home."
In my case I have a feeling that it is an easy way to track my lack of progress or worse yet, my negative progress. Anyway, I printed it out and am off this afternoon in search of 'A1C Now SELFCHECK'. In this circumstance, I do not think that ignorance is bliss. Next PCP visit is fast approaching in February.
It's time for some new year's resolution.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Christmas Cookies Past
Many families with Italian roots celebrate Christmas eve with an ethnic tradition known as the feast of the seven fishes. It was not a tradition we adopted in my Italian family. The Christmas season memory I have been processing and remembering the most this year is more like the feast of the seven cookies. I have posted elsewhere about my mom's cookie baking prowess as it manifested itself at our wedding cookie table. Her Christmas cookies were even better. My mom mustered her considerable artistic skill and her characteristic attention to detail to create dozens and dozens of cookies that could comfortably have appeared in a Martha Stewart magazine. Does anyone make cut-out cookies anymore?
I remember four particular designs that came out at Christmas - candy cane, Christmas tree, wreath and Santa Claus. She made dough in both dark gingerbread and white vanilla flavor. She decorated those cutouts in ways that I can still see in my mind. In the hundreds of family photos we have, there don't seem to be any pictures of these holiday delicacies.
She dyed the icing, so that Santa's hat was red, his beard was white (and coconut on top of white icing made the 'hair' on his beard). She painted the Christmas tree and wreath designs with green icing, adding red candies as berries on the wreath and metallic looking candies as ornaments on the tree. On the candy cane, she alternated white and red icing.
Then there were the rum balls, iced anise cookies and pizzelles (chocolate and anise flavored). She boxed and plated her handiwork in a beautiful presentation and they became gifts to be offered to family and neighbors. And oh, yes for our eating pleasure at home too!
She had a kind of cookie exchange going with my Aunt Gilda, who was also a master cookie baker. Hers were different. She did the roll out dough and made the horn shaped cookies stuffed with nuts or apricots.
This Christmas I am trying to have these memories suffice. I did not inherit the baking gene and yes, I know those carb and sugar laden delights are not good for me and they were not good for my mom either.
So I am eating them this year in my mind only. For sure by Christmas Day, we'll have a few (dozen) that will only be a unreasonable facsimile of what I grew up with. And I keep telling myself this holiday season, "sugar is poison", "sugar is poison". It's not working particularly well.
I remember four particular designs that came out at Christmas - candy cane, Christmas tree, wreath and Santa Claus. She made dough in both dark gingerbread and white vanilla flavor. She decorated those cutouts in ways that I can still see in my mind. In the hundreds of family photos we have, there don't seem to be any pictures of these holiday delicacies.
She dyed the icing, so that Santa's hat was red, his beard was white (and coconut on top of white icing made the 'hair' on his beard). She painted the Christmas tree and wreath designs with green icing, adding red candies as berries on the wreath and metallic looking candies as ornaments on the tree. On the candy cane, she alternated white and red icing.
Then there were the rum balls, iced anise cookies and pizzelles (chocolate and anise flavored). She boxed and plated her handiwork in a beautiful presentation and they became gifts to be offered to family and neighbors. And oh, yes for our eating pleasure at home too!
She had a kind of cookie exchange going with my Aunt Gilda, who was also a master cookie baker. Hers were different. She did the roll out dough and made the horn shaped cookies stuffed with nuts or apricots.
This Christmas I am trying to have these memories suffice. I did not inherit the baking gene and yes, I know those carb and sugar laden delights are not good for me and they were not good for my mom either.
So I am eating them this year in my mind only. For sure by Christmas Day, we'll have a few (dozen) that will only be a unreasonable facsimile of what I grew up with. And I keep telling myself this holiday season, "sugar is poison", "sugar is poison". It's not working particularly well.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Thanksgiving for Aunt Mary
My Aunt Mary, at 96, is a living lesson in how to survive. Last Sunday morning after finishing up a yoga class, I switched my phone back on to see missed calls and voice mail messages from my cousin Karen and JB. Immediately I knew that something must have happened to Aunt Mary.
In large Italian families, it is not unusual to have the last unmarried daughter stay at home to care for aging parents. Aunt Mary, one of five girls, did just that. She worked at US Steel, a career woman before it was commonplace. She not only never married, but she never even learned to drive, walking to work, taking buses to town and relying on others to drive her when she needed to get to a family event or holiday celebration.
Everybody should have an Aunt Mary. She remembers all family birthdays, with cards and presents too. I was the beneficiary of a great family birthday tradition as a child in which Aunt Mary gave us a dollar for every year of our life. So getting older meant getting more dough -- and it was surely something to look forward to.
She was devoted first to her aging mother, and then to her siblings, nieces, nephews, and now great and great great nieces and nephews.
As she and I have gotten older, I have come to realize that while all of those tangible presents and her very real presence have been such constant blessings, there is something so much more edifying about how she lives her life.
Aunt Mary lives totally in the present moment.
This is a lesson I have longed to learn. In the firmament of magnets that have graced the face of our refrigerator over the years, this is one that can always be found and is attributed to Buddha -- "The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment, wisely and earnestly."
And so last Sunday, when Aunt Mary was taken to the hospital after a fall, she sat peacefully and was engaged in the Steeler game as we waited for the results of her X-rays. After the ED physician said he saw nothing broken, she prepared to return home (while I am mentally obsessing about how I am going to leave her in her apartment). It turns out she could not bear weight on her leg, so they ended up keeping her overnight. That night and the next day when I saw her, her only seeming concern was that I remember to call her favorite bakery and order a birthday cake for my cousin Karen. She must have told me five times to remember to get the cake and assured me that she would pay for it and asked that I get my uncle or a friend to pick it up.
I was further reminded of her positive mental outlook when she was presented with her dinner tray of what looked to me like classically nondescript hospital food. "Beautiful, beautiful", she kept repeating as she ate every bite of food on that tray. Turns out her hip is broken.
When I went to see her in the nursing home where she has gone to recover, she was waiting at the dining room table for her dinner tray to arrive. "Beautiful, beautiful", she again exclaimed, as she proceeded to consume every bite on that tray too.
She does not appear to be concerned about when or whether her hip will heal, when or whether she will be able to return to her apartment. That is because she is not thinking about that. She is only thinking of what in the present moment she can focus on that is positive. She is helping me more than I am helping her right now. Forget Buddha, watch Aunt Mary.
In large Italian families, it is not unusual to have the last unmarried daughter stay at home to care for aging parents. Aunt Mary, one of five girls, did just that. She worked at US Steel, a career woman before it was commonplace. She not only never married, but she never even learned to drive, walking to work, taking buses to town and relying on others to drive her when she needed to get to a family event or holiday celebration.
Everybody should have an Aunt Mary. She remembers all family birthdays, with cards and presents too. I was the beneficiary of a great family birthday tradition as a child in which Aunt Mary gave us a dollar for every year of our life. So getting older meant getting more dough -- and it was surely something to look forward to.
She was devoted first to her aging mother, and then to her siblings, nieces, nephews, and now great and great great nieces and nephews.
As she and I have gotten older, I have come to realize that while all of those tangible presents and her very real presence have been such constant blessings, there is something so much more edifying about how she lives her life.
Aunt Mary lives totally in the present moment.
This is a lesson I have longed to learn. In the firmament of magnets that have graced the face of our refrigerator over the years, this is one that can always be found and is attributed to Buddha -- "The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment, wisely and earnestly."
And so last Sunday, when Aunt Mary was taken to the hospital after a fall, she sat peacefully and was engaged in the Steeler game as we waited for the results of her X-rays. After the ED physician said he saw nothing broken, she prepared to return home (while I am mentally obsessing about how I am going to leave her in her apartment). It turns out she could not bear weight on her leg, so they ended up keeping her overnight. That night and the next day when I saw her, her only seeming concern was that I remember to call her favorite bakery and order a birthday cake for my cousin Karen. She must have told me five times to remember to get the cake and assured me that she would pay for it and asked that I get my uncle or a friend to pick it up.
I was further reminded of her positive mental outlook when she was presented with her dinner tray of what looked to me like classically nondescript hospital food. "Beautiful, beautiful", she kept repeating as she ate every bite of food on that tray. Turns out her hip is broken.
When I went to see her in the nursing home where she has gone to recover, she was waiting at the dining room table for her dinner tray to arrive. "Beautiful, beautiful", she again exclaimed, as she proceeded to consume every bite on that tray too.
She does not appear to be concerned about when or whether her hip will heal, when or whether she will be able to return to her apartment. That is because she is not thinking about that. She is only thinking of what in the present moment she can focus on that is positive. She is helping me more than I am helping her right now. Forget Buddha, watch Aunt Mary.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
EMM's 10-10-10 Plan
I seem to respond better to words than pictures. When Dr. Natalie wrote the words "Exercise 30-60 minutes each day" and then spoke the words "Exercise is not optional", I internalized those orders. Trying to deal with the eating and minding part has been much more challenging than the moving part. A previous blog post described the first anniversary of my exercise log; and there are already 52 entries since beginning the second year on August 15.
One of my favorite wake up TV shows is Morning Joe on MSNBC. I think of it as a thinking person's show because it is funny but thought provoking (and I like Mika Brzezinski too). Anyway, they talk sports (baseball mostly) and politics, tracking the Republican candidates and the debates. Lately, they have been having some fun at Herman Cain's expense. It seems that when he was in single digit popularity numbers, he did not actually have well thought out policy proposals. So 9-9-9 was his mantra for awhile until people actually began to seriously examine its impact. And when he tried to explain the 9% sales tax added onto already existing state and local sales taxes as apples and oranges, the resulting reaction forced him to rethink the whole 9-9-9 concept in pretty short order.
But my 10-10-10 concept has been working pretty well when I cannot get a continuous 30 minutes of exercise on some days. It means breaking up the exercise into three 10 minute blocks. Or it can be 10-20 or 15-15. Today was 10-20. Upon arriving home, I still had 20 minutes to go. That's four times around the circle that is our neighborhood. Done.
One of my favorite wake up TV shows is Morning Joe on MSNBC. I think of it as a thinking person's show because it is funny but thought provoking (and I like Mika Brzezinski too). Anyway, they talk sports (baseball mostly) and politics, tracking the Republican candidates and the debates. Lately, they have been having some fun at Herman Cain's expense. It seems that when he was in single digit popularity numbers, he did not actually have well thought out policy proposals. So 9-9-9 was his mantra for awhile until people actually began to seriously examine its impact. And when he tried to explain the 9% sales tax added onto already existing state and local sales taxes as apples and oranges, the resulting reaction forced him to rethink the whole 9-9-9 concept in pretty short order.
But my 10-10-10 concept has been working pretty well when I cannot get a continuous 30 minutes of exercise on some days. It means breaking up the exercise into three 10 minute blocks. Or it can be 10-20 or 15-15. Today was 10-20. Upon arriving home, I still had 20 minutes to go. That's four times around the circle that is our neighborhood. Done.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Doctoring
All families must have some unique expressions. My mother would say, when speaking of someone who was ill, that they were "doctoring". Outside of our family unit, I never heard that phrase. It was a bad thing, this doctoring stuff. In her experience, no one who was feeling well would ever go the the doctor. None of this preventive medicine or annual checkups or vaccines for my parents. Looking back, it may have been a result of their upbringing where there would not have been doctors around. Or perhaps because we were uninsured. My dad was self-employed. For him, health insurance was a luxury, not a necessity. And going to a doctor was an expense to be avoided.
For years I pretty much felt the same way. Oh, having babies necessitated having a doctor. After that, I avoided them too. Ignorance can be bliss, at least in the short term.
Now I find that I am 'doctoring', going for things like blood work, taking pills, and having regular doctor visits. I have one coming up on Monday with Dr. Natalie, my PCP. Facing reality comes with these visits because while she is certainly empathetic, there is an element of judgment that comes with the inevitable reporting of numbers. A1C, cholesterol, weight, body mass index, blood pressure, etc. I dread these visits.
Just came home from a birthday party in the neighborhood. Social events now have an element of dread to them as well even when they are happy occasions. I find myself engaged in a dialogue with myself about what I should and should not eat. If asked to name my five favorite foods, without thinking the first two would come out as birthday cake and then ice cream! Perhaps knowing that I will face the scale on Monday morning, I managed to avoid them. Four diet cokes and a big cup of coffee helped fill my stomach and occupy my hands. Hoping for some better numbers this visit.
For years I pretty much felt the same way. Oh, having babies necessitated having a doctor. After that, I avoided them too. Ignorance can be bliss, at least in the short term.
Now I find that I am 'doctoring', going for things like blood work, taking pills, and having regular doctor visits. I have one coming up on Monday with Dr. Natalie, my PCP. Facing reality comes with these visits because while she is certainly empathetic, there is an element of judgment that comes with the inevitable reporting of numbers. A1C, cholesterol, weight, body mass index, blood pressure, etc. I dread these visits.
Just came home from a birthday party in the neighborhood. Social events now have an element of dread to them as well even when they are happy occasions. I find myself engaged in a dialogue with myself about what I should and should not eat. If asked to name my five favorite foods, without thinking the first two would come out as birthday cake and then ice cream! Perhaps knowing that I will face the scale on Monday morning, I managed to avoid them. Four diet cokes and a big cup of coffee helped fill my stomach and occupy my hands. Hoping for some better numbers this visit.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Under New Management and Over .500
What's made the difference? I am no expert. But it must have something to do with management -- at least that is the one thing that I know has changed. I've been noticing a sign that I drive by on the way to work for a local bar/restaurant that says "Under New Management". Those signs used to be common. I guess it's a way of communicating that changes have been made and we know our food or product or service hasn't been good and that something is now different. Since they can't put up signs that say things like, "we fired the SOB that used to run this place" or "we finally have a chef that actually went to cooking school", businesses post a more benign, but clear message. Somebody new is in charge. And isn't that what it often takes to really turn a team or an organization around?
I like to think that maybe I am under new management too. At least some of the time.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Italian Garden Project with Cookies Too
I love the idea of the Public Market and I hope that it survives. The gathering space for entertainment is small, but it contributes to a piazza-type setting that just doesn't exist much in the States. It was one of the things that my father often spoke of, the 'town square'. It is a fixture of Italian life and he truly missed it. The gathering in a common place, the sharing of daily life, taking the 'passegiata'.
I had the pleasure of meeting Mary Menniti, the driving force behind the event and the Italian Garden Project. She gave me her card which reads, "The Italian Garden Project, Nostalgia for Yesterday, Lessons for Today". I like that -- nostalgia, but with lessons attached. The Project has been holding monthly events, and there is another one upcoming on July 30 on tomatoes, basil and garlic. A lesson from Saturday? Less cookies, more greens.
See www.TheItalianGardenProject.com and join in.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Our Lady of Weight Loss,
aka Janice Taylor, is one of my motivators. She's in the blogosphere and you can link to 'Our Lady of Weight Loss' from the links on the right side of my blog. I don't link a lot or with just anybody. I met Janice Taylor last November at the Diabetes Expo, where she spoke, greeted people and signed books. I bought a copy of OLWL that she signed for me. She's very funny; the book is an easy read. Have you ever heard the expression, it's not what someone says, it's how they make you feel? There is a personal warmth about her and a genuineness that can only come from someone who has been there. Something in her 'before' picture reminded me of me. And her 'after' picture and actual presence look worlds away from where she started. That's what I want.
One of my favorite things in the book is a form letter that you can send to your office mates about the work environment. There is a lot of food drama and frenzy in most office settings that is challenging for some of us. Her letter gave me the courage and the words to ask a colleague to move her candy dish (and no one will get hurt!) which she keeps within easy reaching distance of my hand as I walk the corridor to the outside door of our office suite dozens of times a day. That's a lot of times to resist temptation.
One of her signature expressions (and the title of another of her books) is, 'All is Forgiven, Move On'. That helps me too. That whole self-compassion, don't beat yourself up too much approach is working much better for me than the whole guilt thing.
One of my favorite things in the book is a form letter that you can send to your office mates about the work environment. There is a lot of food drama and frenzy in most office settings that is challenging for some of us. Her letter gave me the courage and the words to ask a colleague to move her candy dish (and no one will get hurt!) which she keeps within easy reaching distance of my hand as I walk the corridor to the outside door of our office suite dozens of times a day. That's a lot of times to resist temptation.
One of her signature expressions (and the title of another of her books) is, 'All is Forgiven, Move On'. That helps me too. That whole self-compassion, don't beat yourself up too much approach is working much better for me than the whole guilt thing.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Calling Dr. Walmart, Dr. Walmart
I'm feeling a bit under the weather so I went to Walmart today. Under normal circumstances, Walmart is a place I avoid. Too many people, too much cheap stuff from China, too much stuff in general. I prefer more relaxed shopping in places that are smaller and frankly more upscale (think Whole Foods and Anthropologie). And I sort of like to go to a grocery store, pharmacy, flower shop, card store, etc., separately, not together in a full-court press, energy sapping marathon shopping experience.
However, the hospital where I work opened two urgent care clinics at local Walmart stores over the past year. One of my work colleagues went last week and told me what a wonderful experience it was. So on my way home from work, I stopped in.
It was an impressive, customer friendly experience. It was as close to an old-fashioned family doctor visit as anything I have experienced since childhood. Remember when doctors had 'office hours'? It meant that you went, sat in a waiting room and on a first-come, first-served basis, were seen by the one doctor in the practice and had your problem addressed. I remember my dad taking me to Dr. Visoke's office in McKeesport, sitting in a nearly-full waiting room and taking our turn.
Well this wasn't a doctor at the Walmart clinic, it was a nurse practitioner. His exam was thorough, he was kind and attentive, the visit was unrushed because there was only one other patient there before me, and it was no-hassle. Don't get me wrong, I love my PCP. But all the 'stuff' that accompanies a doctor's office visit and a doctor's office, is simplified with the urgent care clinic concept. Just stop in; make the co-pay (in this case a mere $20), see the practitioner, and be on your way.
Wow, Walmart.
However, the hospital where I work opened two urgent care clinics at local Walmart stores over the past year. One of my work colleagues went last week and told me what a wonderful experience it was. So on my way home from work, I stopped in.
It was an impressive, customer friendly experience. It was as close to an old-fashioned family doctor visit as anything I have experienced since childhood. Remember when doctors had 'office hours'? It meant that you went, sat in a waiting room and on a first-come, first-served basis, were seen by the one doctor in the practice and had your problem addressed. I remember my dad taking me to Dr. Visoke's office in McKeesport, sitting in a nearly-full waiting room and taking our turn.
Well this wasn't a doctor at the Walmart clinic, it was a nurse practitioner. His exam was thorough, he was kind and attentive, the visit was unrushed because there was only one other patient there before me, and it was no-hassle. Don't get me wrong, I love my PCP. But all the 'stuff' that accompanies a doctor's office visit and a doctor's office, is simplified with the urgent care clinic concept. Just stop in; make the co-pay (in this case a mere $20), see the practitioner, and be on your way.
Wow, Walmart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)