Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Category: Health

  • Ooooh That Smell

    For a while now I’ve had super sensitive sense of smell. I think it’s getting worse… better… more intense maybe is the word I’m looking for here. Sometimes it affects what I’m tasting or maybe it would be easier to say that I can taste things in foods and liquids that others don’t. A few examples are listed below in no particular order.

    • Mildew on towels (fresh from the dryer or clothes line or hanging on the towel rack for however long)
    • My cats litter box is on the second floor of the house, I can smell if she’s used it from anywhere on the first floor or when I first get home
    • friends and strangers have bad breath that I’ve asked others about but they say they didn’t smell anything
    • perfumes and colognes can be detected strongly from a train car length away or a good block if the wind is blowing properly
    • something in my house smells like chicken, I can’t find it and I’m not sure what it is but I have lots of scented candles and odor eater things placed about to make the smell less evident
    • there is a tree near my house that smells horribly like stale beer
    • I can’t walk in the middle of the prepared foods part near the deli of the grocery store the smells of the foods in the buffet part is well, too smelly
    • dogs and cats – just touching them and I can smell them on me for hours after and I LIKE dogs and cats
    • sometimes when I’m sitting or standing next to someone I can detect that they’ve either been wearing the same underwear for a few days or don’t wipe well
    • there are things that I would have never considered to have a smell at all that have a smell
    • feet, gas, fish, body odor – none of these things would I consider to smell good anyway, but they seem to overpower my senses

    If that’s not disgusting enough for you, some of the taste things include water or tea where I can taste sewage in them (what does sewage taste like? just like what it smells like) and milk starts to go bad to my tongue a week before the expiration date. I can actually taste when food I’m eating has been touched by something that isn’t on my plate – onions, peppers, fish – or maybe the preparers didn’t wash their hands in-between touching the items.

    The smell of things can be so intense that I’ll stop walking down the street to avoid scents coming from someone, or move to entirely different cars on the Metro. At meetings I try to distance myself from smells. If someone comes into a restaurant and their perfume or cologne is too strong my meal can end up tasting like what they are wearing. It’s not every scent, it appears to be just some scents and I’m sure there is a pattern I’m missing somewhere. It sounds crazy.

    When I smell something so strongly I often look around wondering why none of the people near me seem to notice and ask others if they can smell it – they say no. If you were Superman or Wolverine you’d go crazy being able to smell the things they can smell hell, I’ve been crazy a long time and I know this is driving me crazier. When I talked to my doctor about this he actually suggested I might be turning into a superhero – sniffing out crime… I like my doctor, he’s funny.

    Friends have suggested I might be pregnant as they’ve experienced an enhanced sense of smell then, but the condoms have been intact – I know they are only 99.9% effective, but I’m fairly certain I’m not pregnant.

    So after my doctor and I talked he talked to colleagues who didn’t know what this was either and then I had an MRI last week. The results of the MRI were normal or “non specific white matter change in some part of the brain, which is normal and doesn’t explain the smell symptoms” – but it does confirm that I actually have a brain in case you were wondering.

    So if I offer you a breath mint or a stick of gum – you should really take it, especially if you want me to keep talking to you. If I don’t want to shower at your house or spend the night – it could be that I don’t like people but really it’s probably that your towels smell mildewy or that you have a pet who’s smells overtake all my other senses.

    You might see me breathing out of my mouth a lot – yes I’m a mouth breather. I’ll be a mouth breather when I have to be and apparently I have to be a lot right now.

  • Personal Perceptions

    A lot of people have self-image issues. Me too. I can look in the mirror on a given day and see reality has set in.  The image of me that I have in my mind is of a 12 year old boy. Skinny, 70s haircut (in the early 80s), bell bottom or high water pants, hand-me-down shirt, tobacco stains on my teeth and fingers. It’s not reality, but it’s the main psychic self image that I project, why? I have no idea. But I rarely think of myself in any other way. The crows feet around my eyes, the gray hair in my facial hair (or even more disturbing the first few times – gray pubic hairs – Oh no!) and on my head, the sagging here or the sagging there… It’s not just the aging thing – it’s comparing ourselves to the outside world or the world of Hollywood. Yeah, that’s a wise move for mental health, comparing yourself to celebrities.

    On Wednesday I dressed up for work, normally I wear jeans and a t-shirt. I had a few errands to run and later would be shopping for a suit at Macy’s so wanted a white shirt on to get the full effect of the image. On the way to the office I had to make a couple of stops, both work related, and was complimented on how I looked by a few different people and even had a few give me the once over. I had my friend take this photo the same day.    While suit shopping after I had left the office two guys flirted with me at Macy’s, and Al at Annie’s was almost in a tizzy and said I looked great – my standard response there is “so you’re saying I look like crap every other day?” Al didn’t take the bait, but said you normally just come in looking “usual”. Hmm, I thought….

    When I had a chance to upload the photo to the iMac I took a look at it and saw all the things that everyone else missed. I see the belly that makes me look a bit pregnant,  a gap in-between my teeth that makes me look rural, the receding gray hairline, and a wrinkly shirt. I don’t usually smile in photos so hate this one just like all the other ones that I smile in. That’s just how I perceive me – I have a poor self body image, so do a lot of folks.

    I went so far as to put this photo on a few online dating sites I frequent and a lot of guys had very nice complimentary things to say about it, a few people who have seen photos I like of myself said they like this photo best – my perception is rarely reality, or maybe these guys have been doing a lot of hallucinatory drugs or losing their vision – I vote for the later.

    I have a friend who is the skinniest person I know who thinks she is fat on occasions, works out constantly and guys cruise her all the time, maybe her self image is of the girl she used to be. I have a friend who’s a big sexy black guy that so self conscious about his body that he wont come to Zumba with me as he thinks folks will not want to see him there – he’s not a freak show, he’s a big sexy guy (lose weight or don’t, you’ll still be sexy), but maybe he can’t get past his self-image – I can’t, so who am I to judge. Yet another friend is trying to grow her hair out after chemo took it all last year, it’s a slow process and the hair is having a mind of it’s own, this frustrates her a lot, but her hair is such a small part of the whole package of her and those of us that know her think she looks great all the time – however I still give her a hard time about the hair, cause I love the reaction.

    We are who we are, whether we can see it in the mirror or our minds eye or not. Should we be healthy, I guess… but even then that may not change how we view ourselves. So I might be getting a belly, might have a gap in my teeth, I certainly have gray hair all over the place. I am who I am, I can change some things about that sure, but I’m probably always going to look inside of myself and see the skinny kid with the welfare glasses and paisley shirt.

  • Periodontist – a.k.a. Dr. Evil

    This afternoon I’m having minor surgery on my mouth. Apparently years of not taking care of your teeth can lead to fun later on in life – or maybe this is just a result of growing old… although I don’t recall any old people in recent memory talking about a periodontist cutting into their gums and filling in a space that has formed between the root and the bone. Bone loss, I was told – sounds wonderful. I’m not sure exactly what’s going to happen, the Periodontist started to tell me and then I started to get nauseous (see this post to see how I am) so I asked him to stop and just give me the basics:

    • How long will it take?
    • Will it hurt?
    • How long is the recovery process?
    • Will I be able to walk home?

    I really did ask all those questions and the only answer I remember is Yes, I’ll be able to walk home. I know they’ll give me an anesthetic and maybe some laughing gas.  I know once I’m in the chair I plan to close my eyes and try not to be present.

    Gary has agreed to pick me up and manage the pain medication – that’s really the scariest part – Vicodin. I don’t think I’ve ever had any medication that was stronger than Tylenol or Advil – never had a need. Perhaps as we get older and have to maintain our failing bodies we need medication that we wouldn’t otherwise. But I’ve heard story after story of members of AA that relapsed and it started with a pain medication that they were given after a surgery, yeah, I don’t need that to happen.

    Yesterday at the end of my meeting they asked if anyone had any burning desires, something that you needed to share because otherwise you feared you might get drunk. I didn’t think that I might get drunk, but I did think I’d heard many people talk about upcoming surgeries or events that they were worried about. But I thought to myself that I’m certainly not that person… I remember a time or two when someone’s burning desire was that they were having a birthday party that weekend or they wanted to whine about the subject they’d been whining about for over a year – yeah, no I don’t have a burning desire so I didn’t share about it. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a meeting where someone had a burning desire that was about wanting to drink… interesting.

    Thankfully I have tomorrow off in case I need it and the boss will be in New York dealing with the never ending project. Suzanne says I’ll be fine, Gary promises to manage the medication, Jason says I have a healthy fear of relapse/drinking… Well, none of this really makes me feel better but it’s good to know that I have people thinking about me today I guess.

    So anyway, this afternoon I’ll be a mess – then I’ll have surgery and be a disaster.

  • Joe

    I received news this evening that Joe Appel is “not doing well” and then received confirmation from my brother that he’s dying. Joe Appel was my biological mothers second husband, he’s the father of my little brother Ryan and little sister Amy. For most of my life my last name was Appel, I was adopted by Joe after he married my mother. For all of my childhood Joe was “Dad” at some point I knew he was my adoptive dad. I have some memories of the day that happened, I remember being dressed up in case the judge wanted to talk to me. He was all I knew I had as a Dad.

    Through my memories I see his fists flying into my mother, onto her face, into her body. I see her battered and bruised, I see blood on his fists that is likely hers and not his. I recall night after night of drunkenness where we lie frightened in our bedrooms wondering if tonight would be another night that we’d hear her scream.

    I recall the nights we spent in battered women shelters after one of those incidents – it never occurred to me when I was young, but as I type this and remember that place was full of families just like mine. The strange smells, the odd noises the crying in the cot not three feet from where you were curled up. That was better than the violence in our own home.

    We’d never know when it would be safe to go home, many a time we’d run away Mom and us, to a friends or to a shelter or to Grandmas. One time in particular he threatened to kill the cats if we didn’t come back right then.

    I recall only a few times when his fist hit me, I know he’s beat my brother senseless on many occasions. I don’t know if he hit Amy and Dawn, I have no memory of it happening, but my memories fade more each day.

    I remember distinctly a visit to his parents house where he started to beat on my mom and his family joined in. That was the day they didn’t matter to me anymore.

    He was, is, a monster. He would beat on Mom and then we’d get away or he’d get arrested… but he always came back, like a bad penny. I don’t think he has any remorse or regret for the pain he inflicted – hell I doubt he thinks he did anything wrong at all.

    I can’t say that I’m sorry to hear he’s dying, not when I’ve know good men that have died too young. Why would this bastard son-of-a-bitch get to live this long, drinking every day of his life and beating on people that depended on him as he wanted. Sure he’s spent some time in jail, but not enough. Sure he’s probably had some pain, but not nearly enough. He’s a veteran, doesn’t matter, doesn’t give a license to treat human being that way. He’s sick, doesn’t matter that’s not a get out of jail card either.

    Part of me can’t help but think back on all the times Mom would call from the hospital or the nut house saying “I’m dying” and we’d all rush home to be there and she’d disappoint us again – that sounds harsh no? but that’s what it was at the end for me one more time she couldn’t just go, just quit being sick and tired and go.

    So now I think about Joe, yes, it’s time to die – but there’s no way you’ve suffered enough. No damn way.

  • Trip at the Dentist

    So yesterday I broke a tooth while munching on hard sourdough pretzels at home. I wasn’t in any pain, but I knew I would have to call the dentist and see him. So I called late in the afternoon and sure enough they scheduled me for 7:30 this morning. Joy. So this morning I woke at the usual time and left early for the long walk to the dentist.

    Deep breaths, deep breaths, prayer mantras, deep breaths… slow and steady, imagine your somewhere else.

    Once I was seated in the chair and they took a look at what they had to work with the dentist – a new guy I’d never had before which just adds to my anxiety – starts to explain the procedure to me and show me a short video of the deal. I ask him to stop and explain that all of that just adds to my anxiety. Yes, yes, anything at the dentist can add to my anxiety apparently. They give me a local and then a shot of Novocaine and do an x-ray to check out the whole area and then bring me back to my seat and ask if I’m numb… but I’m not. I wonder if being a drug addict/alcoholic has raised made me less susceptible to Novocaine as I almost always need two shots. Then they start the nitrous oxide, which I get to try to calm me down more, they leave me to let all the drugs take effect… Then the unexpected happens, unexpected for me but one of the dental hygienists says its common.

    I start to trip out. I mean full blown hallucination trip to never never land. The world started spinning away. Words, music and sounds started to skip and warp into unrecognizable noises. Though still in the dentist chair I feel like I’m speeding forward and a thousand miles an hour and can feel the wind blowing through my hair – when did I get hair? Then I was walking on a beach wondering how I got there and a very small part of me remembered where I was and struggled to grasp on to something real. I panic when nothing I grasp for is solid.  Damn this feels great, I’m not supposed to feel this way, I’m not supposed to do these things anymore. Then a small panic sets in an I wonder if I’ve relapsed and created an elaborate story where I’ve broken a tooth just so I could trip and get away with it. (I have drinking dreams like that sometimes, and I spend most of the dream wondering which reality is reality and which is dream)

    Fortunately the dentist and his assistant come in then and while they’re working on me all the hallucinations stop, I’m stationary, I’m calm, I feel no pain – just the occasional feeling that I’m drowning when there is too much water in my mouth and before I know it they’ve stopped again and leave me for a short while – and zoom I’m off to the races again. The world warps away and is replaced by something else entirely that I know isn’t real and is just an effect of the gas – at this point I’m so freaked out about the experience I yank the gas off my face and breathe through my mouth for a good long while. When the dental hygienist comes in he asks what’s wrong…

    I point to the gas and say “Nothing, everything, that was good and bad… I can’t have that anymore. I started hallucinating”

    “Yeah, that happens a lot” he says

    Never to me before, really shook me up today. Maybe they could just knock me out when I go to the dentist and wake me when it’s all over?

  • Gratitude – I've Succumb to Peer Pressure

    There’s a lot of this gratitude stuff going around, it happens every year at this time. It can get quite sickening after a while (yes, yes, we’ve reached that point), especially when people are posting a “gratitude” of the day post on Facebook. Talk about making a guy want to vomit – at least it helps to maintain the waistline each time I do. I do actually have a lot to complain about – see previous blogs – but I’ll take a little time here to tell you the people, places and things I am grateful for.

    First, I’m extremely lucky to have a family that is beyond amazing. You may think your family is the cats meow, but let me be the first to tell you how wrong you are. My family is quite big, mostly because I keep adding special people to it, why on earth would you keep those people that mean so much out of your family circle – yeah, I know we’re not supposed to choose our family, but I do anyway.

    Blood Relatives: Dawn, Ryan and Amy and I actually spent some time with them this summer. I also saw all three of my nieces (Samantha, Tabatha and Joplin) too.

    Amy, me, Dawn and Ryan
    Amy, me, Dawn and Ryan

    We really don’t look much different to my eyes than we did 30 years ago – maybe a few more tattoos or piercings and less hair for me, but I’ll always see us as we were on a Wisconsin summer day, in shorts, running around on Elm St without a care in the world.

    My Foster Family: Ma, Pa (miss you Pa), Kenny (and Sheila), Rhonda (and Greg) Michael (and Michelle), Jeremiah, Cory (and Danielle) and my two great-nephews Charlie and Patrick. I spent  a few days at home this summer and really had a nice time. It’s great to go home and deal with all the chaos that is the Trempealeau County Fair Demolition Derby…

    newborn Patrick, Danielle and Charlie
    Charlie – all ready to go

    some people (I wont mention names) yell at me when I post photos of them online – so I wont put up photos of others beside the two great nephews and their Mom. Charlie is one of the smartest kids I’ve ever encountered – and blond so it’s like a genetic flaw. 🙂

    Adopted Family Members: Suzanne, Paul and Farley; Pat, Brenda, Helen, Scooter, Sami, Maui and PePe; Gary; Jim, Ana, Lisa and the rest of the DiLuigi clan. Though I only really see Jim and Gary daily all of these folks are close enough to me to be family.

    My Boss, my Friend – Jim
    Pat and Brenda – sneaking out without Helen

    I really have the best job and that I get to work with such a great friend, there’s something to be thankful for.

    me and Ana on our road trip

    Every Wednesday night (well, sometimes we have to do a different day) I talk to my friend Pat on the phone.

    I wish my best friend Suzanne lived closer and this Thanksgiving I’m not spending it with her so it’ll be a sadder holiday than normal. I’m sure she and Paul will have a great celebration together.

    Suzanne and Farley – at the beach
    Gary, my roommate, my friend

    And Farley, of course.

    Lisa

    Friends: I have all kinds of friends and met some of them for the first time in real life recently – yes, that sounds odd. I went to Winnipeg to meet some friends that I’d played World of Warcraft with for years. That was really cool. I have friends from high school, two of which I’ll spend Thanksgiving with this year. Friends from AA, friends old and new.

    Grokus, Noq and Salthair
    Folks from regular Sunday Breakfast at Annie's

    Health The cholesterol is down, the weight is down – I still hate the gym…. I’m still not a smoker, nor a drinker or a drug user. So life’s ok.

    Aren't I adorable?

    Mouse my little Princess, she’s a handful and usually doesn’t sleep through the night – which means she needs love and attention at 3 or 4 a.m…. but I still love her.

    Birthdays And Birthdays… I’m really incredibly happy that in a few more days I’ll be somewhere warm and sunny… that’ll make all this sappy crap worth it.

     

     

    I usually come off a a curmudgeon, and I like it that way so don’t expect cheery happy crap from me on a regular basis.

    Tina and I did a Spa Day!
    Brien and Michelle came to visit

  • Dream Date

    Last night I slept the entire night right up to the point where the alarm clock started it’s insistent beeping at me. The cat was even kind enough to let me sleep, it was a miracle… someone call the Vatican. I also remembered my dreams, at least one of them – which is not always the case.

    I had a boyfriend (yes, this is how we can tell it’s a dream). A nice boyfriend (this is how we know I was still feverish from the flu). Mystery boyfriend, who unfortunately kept his clothes on during the dream, didn’t appear to be my type at all. Not just because he was nice, though that’s a big indicator, but because his physical characteristics (skinny, clean shaven, smiling) weren’t what I normally look for in a guy.

    In the dream we interacted with my family, read comics books and took a long walk before sitting together in the family room snuggled up together. It was peaceful and pleasing. I was really having a nice time with the guy and everyone seemed to like him – not that that should matter at all, but it does I guess.

    Kind of a pointless story I know. “Jamez had a dream, film at 11”.

    I think it kind of reawakened the idea of having someone in my life again. I had written that off recently and wasn’t sure I was at all interested in pursuing anything that would last more than a night… or two minutes, how ever long he lasted. I don’t want to get married tomorrow, next month or next year – but I wouldn’t mind having someone to lean against in a movie theater, coffee house or in the pool.

    It was just a dream though, I’ll probably die an old spinster.

  • Dreaded Dentist

    A small cavity had me at the dentist this morning, the decay was located on my lower right wisdom tooth. Going to the dentist for a cleaning is a stressful situation for me so going when I have to have a cavity filled is even worse.

    I arrived 10 minutes early in case they could get me out of there sooner, sadly I was there until 10:25 (25 minutes after my scheduled appointment) waiting and letting fear get the better of me. I imagine every conceivable and inconceivable scenario that can possibly go through my mind – they’ll need to do an emergency root canal, maybe they’ll have to pull out all my teeth after discovering a rare form of mouth cancer, perhaps this batch of Novocaine is faulty and it doesn’t dull pain but enhances it… yes, my mind goes to all those places for the entire 25 minutes.

    The Dentists office has several dentists working there and dentists that I become accustomed to leave right when I’ve gotten used to them – Is it my breath? So this current dentist I’ve only seen once and that was the week before, she seems nice, but like all dentists, is an evil monster who thrives on causing others pain. That smile, it’s only in anticipation of hearing a patient scream. I remind her that I usually get nitrous oxide when I’m at the dentist and she didn’t know that so I had to sit in the chair longer while they prepared the gas. This is not a good sign, they haven’t read my chart and know how fearful this event is for me – it reminds me of the last time I had a cavity and a new dentist was there and he was talking about my root canal – I wasn’t there for a root canal so I freaked out a bit and had one of my anxiety attacks – never saw that guy again fortunately.

    They give me the gas, I breathe in and out in deep full breaths. I picture a nice ocean front beach with blue water, palm trees and serenity – I can’t concentrate on that for long though, before I know it I’m anticipating pain again and then the sweat starts to roll off my body in all places conceivable – it’s possible I sweat more in the dentists chair then I do at the gym – ok, not really, but it all pools into the lower half of my body and it’s icky. My heart is racing pretty quickly even with the gas when she arrives to puncture me with a needle that makes the right side of my head feel heavy and tingly in places. The gas has started to affect my legs and they are numb – I think to myself, stupid gas my legs don’t need to be numb my head does get up here!

    The dentists female assistant suddenly leaves and is replaced by a male assistant and this is another thing that worries me – was what they were about to perform in my mouth to gross for the female assistant to witness? Again… Is it my breath?

    The dentist informs me that they are going to start and stuffs huge balls of cotton in my mouth and reminds me to continue to breath through my nose so I can continue receiving the nitrous oxide, I gladly obliged and am starting to feel fine – then I hear the drill.

    This entire time I’ve had a tight grasp on the arm rests and when the drill kicks in I squeeze a little tighter. The dentist instructs me to raise my hand if they need to stop – like I could suddenly make my hands release their death grip on the chair and lift up in the air in a panic – yeah, that’s very likely to happen. I’ve also not opened my eyes since I sat back in the chair, I know they’ll be grinning evilly and their instruments of pain will be dripping with blood and enamel.

    I’m actually doing ok for a while then they hurt me and I cringe, but I think it’s going to be ok it was just a minor pain – then they hurt me twice more in rapid succession and my body squirms all over the chair. The sweat pouring off my body has tripled and my breathing is more panting then anything else. She stops and they pretend to be concerned for my welfare, but I imagine they’re giggling up a storm and savoring the pain that is evident on my face. They give me another shot of Novocaine and we wait for a few minutes for it to take effect. The dental assistant uses one of their tools to blow air on my face and I start to relax again.

    Shortly thereafter they finish up and the dentist asks me to bite down – after doing so she asks if that “feels normal” I try to tell her that I have no idea if it “feels normal” the entire right side of my head is numb, how should I know…

    As I approach the counter to pay my co-pay the receptionist person asks “How was your visit?”

     

    Horrible

  • If Nothing Changes, Nothing Changes

    In spite of knowing better and having lived in a home where I was fed real meals with meats, vegetables, milk and bread and butter – when I finally lived on my own my main meal almost every day was an entire sausage and pepperoni pizza. A standard 12 inch Tombstone or Roma’s pizza, cooked in the oven for 18 minutes until golden brown on top.  Not that I didn’t eat other things, I did. Like bowls of cereal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, burgers from a burger joint (and later in life steaks from a restaurant) or if I got to Ma’s for dinner or lunch whatever she would happen to be cooking if I liked it.  Ask anyone who knows me pretty well – I’m a picky eater. I don’t like sauces and dressings generally and am not a big fan of cooked vegetables.

    Despite my careless eating habits and lack of physical exertion, I never really got big or chunky (well there was the first summer at Ma and Pa’s where I put on a belly but it didn’t take) and I could have probably fit into the same pants that I wore when I was 16 at 24.

    Then in 2005 I did two things that changed all that

    1. I quit smoking
    2. I went back to school for a year

    Suddenly I was twenty (20) pounds heavier and my pants and shirts were tight. Worst of all? the start of man boobs, moobies as some like to call them. I haven’t needed a manzier, but I could see they were threatening to become a little more than I was interested in having. Moobies are something I don’t find attractive on men and it would be silly of me to have something that I didn’t like seeing on others you know.

    When I was in school (and sometimes on weekends within the last few years) there were days when I’d start the day with coffee a bowl of cereal and a couple hours later have a pizza for lunch, followed sometimes by a pizza for dinner. I’d follow that up with day long World of Warcraft marathons only moving from the computer to grab water or a snack (candy, ice cream, cereal).

    One Tombstone pepperoni and sausage pizza has the following Nutritional “value”:

    Amount Per Serving                         
    Calories 1635                                    Calories from Fat 736
                                                                  Percent Daily Value*
    Total Fat 81.7g                                  126%
    Saturated Fat 30.4g                          152%
    Cholesterol 156mg                             52%
    Sodium 3944mg                                164%
    Total Carbohydrates 152.9g            51%
    Dietary Fiber 10.6g                            42%
    Protein 71.8g                                       42%
    Vitamin A                                             36%
    Calcium                                                 89%
    *Based on a 2000 Calorie Diet

    Two of those pizzas a day was a lot of bad, especially when you think that I wasn’t doing anything to counter act all the bad that was there.

    So in the working world life changed a little bit. I’d start out the day with coffee and cereal, get to the 7-11 by the office grab two cinnamon twists and two bottles of chocolate milk and maybe a candy bar, then eat burger or pizza or fast food of some kind with the boss before heading home where for dinner I’d have a pizza and a bowl of ice cream – and sometimes finish the night with a bowl of cereal.  Every day pretty much, unless the housemate was cooking dinner then I’d eat whatever that might be (poor guy’s a great cook, but is limited to cook what I’ll actually eat).

    Besides the slowly growing moobies – the waistline kept expanding, the belly seemed to protrude a bit more than I’d like and the cholesterol has been high for probably a decade now. My biological parents were both heavy (Phillip was a football player in high school and Cheryl had my eating habits and aversion to exercise) so deep down in my mind I think I’m destined to be bigger. Suddenly the twenty pounds heavier was 35, 36 and 37…

    If Nothing Changes, Nothing Changes… So what changed. Hell I don’t know…. oh I remember… I was having issues pooping – yes, too much information I know… and the doctor suggested I try to eat more fiber and I actually LIKE my doctor so I started to read about fiber and started to make minor changes in my diet.

    Every morning now the bowl of cereal is raisin bran (lots of fiber). Instead of the donuts and chocolate milk from the 7-11 it’s two bottles of orange juice and sunflower seeds and almonds. Tried to get the housemate to include vegetables that I like in meals he cooks (corn, green beans, peas, broccoli, cauliflower). Sometimes dinner is a bowl of raisin bran and a handful of nuts. And every night I try to eat an apple.  That’s a lot of change for me and my diet let me tell you – and I’m not perfect at it and sometimes I’ll still have a burger or yes, a pizza… hush, I said I wasn’t perfect.

    So slowly my body started to change, but not fast enough so I spent a little cash on a personal trainer and things got a little faster, but not super speed. Apparently dieting and exercise isn’t instant – who knew? The personal trainer and I are doing a lot of things that will never be useful in the real world – push ups, pull ups, lifting weights, curls, this that – but it’s certainly made my arms and chest a little firmer. I’ve also noticed that my nipples are kind of going off to the side now – which I think is really weird – shouldn’t these things point out front? I’ll have to ask someone who knows more than I know about these kinds of things.

    Throw in some cardio classes, keep walking about a mile and a half a day, and up with the fiber and healthier foods and we’ll see what happens to me. It’s not something I had planned on doing and I don’t know how it’ll all work out (the first week back to the gym I hurt my leg and was on crutches for a week – still hurts every now and then too) but it’s probably a step in the right direction.

  • Wasted Youth

    If memory serves I had a physical education class every year in grade school and high school. I was usually the last one picked for teams, which bothered me mostly because we all knew I’d be picked last but it still took a long time to get through all the other loser kids getting picked at the same time. It didn’t really matter, the truth was I wasn’t any good at it, didn’t matter what it was i sucked. The other kids knew it, I knew it and even the coaches knew it – yet I was still required to have that class – I couldn’t tell you what kind of grade I ever got in it, but I know it wasn’t a good grade (I know as most of my grades in school weren’t good).

    Once in grade school I recall one of the leaders who tried to make use of that by making a play where i would catch the ball – I was never covered by the opposing team it would be a huge waste, no one in their right mind would be throwing a ball to me, but this one kid planned it and I halfheartedly was excited to participate – this play would have won us the game. But as these kinds of things go – I was unable to catch the ball, imagine that and therefore we lost and once again I had managed to not be of any help to my classmates. Not once in the remaining years of school was I part of a plan to win, just didn’t happen.

    In high school gym became less of an annoyance as we sometimes were able to choose which activities we wanted to participate in and honestly because some times it was better to not really participate but be stoned while all the other kids did partake in sports. My friend Ted and I used to walk during “Track and Field” and smoke our cigarettes as we did, it wasn’t really something that interested us.

    Some of the many activities that I was required to participate in included:

    • basketball
    • softball
    • track and field
    • curling
    • wrestling
    • flag or touch football
    • tennis
    • golf
    • gymnastics

    There were times in Phys Ed that I had to climb a rope, do somersaults, or head stands and the rope thing was usually done with every other kid watching and giggling or snickering. I don’t recall many of the kids being able to climb that rope well or even doing push ups well, but that could be me not really caring too. Phys Ed was really not a class I had any fun in at all – recess was sometimes even a challenge to find something I cared about doing – usually my imagination had me doing something or pretending to be a superhero – kickball, tag, or monkey bars really didn’t do it for me.

    I know these things were meant to encourage me to be more active, to see if I had interest in sports or hidden talents so the school could get more money if I was a star or something. But honestly I’ve never had a job interview where standing on my head, or climbing a rope was a pre-requisite. No one in my adult life has seriously wondered if I knew anything about curling that wasn’t talking about hair. Yes, if a zombie apocalypse happens I’ll have to avoid those creatures so they wont eat my brains, but have you seen these things move? I’m sure I can out walk em and if necessary run.

    So here I am, 40, and I still don’t find any enjoyment in any of these activities (well maybe wrestling, but that’s only under certain circumstances you know). I don’t feel the urge to watch, participate or even care about these types of activities. The personal trainer I’m seeing at the gym (yes, I know how ironic that seems) keeps telling me that these things were doing are going to make me really strong – but honestly how often am I going to need to arm wrestle myself out of a situation? Is there really going to be a need for a pull up in my future?

    I’ve come to the conclusion that exercise is a lot like math, one of those things that is mandatory learning but not something you’ll ever use in everyday life. I also think that the studies that say exercise makes you feel better are flawed, or perhaps the people who feel better after exercising have a different genetic makeup than the rest of us. I’ve got 5 more weeks of personal training, and it’s possible that I’ll change my mind, but I don’t think it’s likely.