Guest Post: An Update From My Brother

My brother discovered a love of writing about five years ago and has written more than 200 essays. However, Marty's "voice" has been silent since June when a series of seizures left him with substantial memory loss (click here to read more about this). Since then, many of you have asked how he's doing, and I'm thrilled to let him tell you himself. The following is Marty's first essay since his brain injury. I couldn't be more proud of the progress he's made.

“I have no yesterdays – only today”
By Marty Haraldson

A person reading the title of this short essay might say that I have written that incorrectly. It should read, “I have no ‘tomorrow’ – only today.” We are never guaranteed tomorrow. But on the morning of June 23, a Thursday morning, things for me went from normal and everyday to extraordinary and life changing. It was on that morning that I lost my yesterdays and started struggling to recall the events of each “today.” Now, if I do not record the events of each day, those events fail to become memories.

It was a Thursday morning. It was trash day in our neighborhood. That meant taking the garbage can and the recycling container down to the curb early in the morning before going to work. I did just that. That’s the last thing I remember doing for the next three weeks. After walking back into the house, I apparently suffered a “rapid succession of un-witnessed seizures,” according to the medical report. These seizures caused a neurological memory loss and a psychological memory loss. I spent the next two weeks in the hospital and a third week in a care center.

This event makes it difficult for me to learn new things and remember new things, even simple things. As far as remembering what I did yesterday or the days preceding, I cannot remember unless I have a written record of what happened. If I fail to write down what I did yesterday, where I went yesterday, or whom I saw yesterday, I’ll most likely not be able to remember it. I’m embarrassed when I walk into the offices where I once worked for 30 years and not remember everyone’s name. It bothers me, too, that I cannot remember all of my neighbor’s names. Even more embarrassing is when I cannot remember my own phone number or my home address that I’ve had for 20 years. It’s then that I realize and accept that something is really wrong with me.

When the doctors and therapists say my “possible” recovery may take a very long time or that my recovery may not be “full” or “complete,” I must prepare myself for that possibility both physically and mentally. I cannot live with blinders on. I’ve always taken on life and responsibilities with both eyes wide open and given it my all. There’s no reason for me not to do the same in my present situation.

I realize that this is not what I asked for. I’ll now be living on disability income. My life now moves at a considerably slower pace. I’ve been accepted as a volunteer at the S.T.E.P. program in my city where I’ll be helping with their food shelf program. My truck and I will be put to good use to help those in need. I hope to get back to my former self, but much has to happen before that is possible. Until then, I’ll make the best of what God has allowed to happen in my life. I hope you, too, allow Him to make the best of your life!

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Stirring The Mud. Settling The Mud.

When I grow up, I want to be as kind as my grandson, Luca. (“Sure!” is his standard response to questions.)

As happy as my granddaughter, Maelie (who, despite cutting what seems like 40 teeth at the same time, still puts on a happy face).

And as unaffected by what others think as my granddaughter, Claire. She wore her Captain America costume to the park yesterday, which drew some looks from adults and children, but she could have cared less.

In the meantime…

I want to live by the quote I heard today from Tara Brach’s dharma talk, “Learning to Respond, Not React.” This isn’t verbatim, but the gist is this: Can I sit long enough in a moment/feeling to let the mud in the river settle?

“Buddhist teachers compare calming the mind to letting muddy water settle in a glass. The water goes clear in its own time and there’s nothing you can do to hurry it up. In fact, if you try to hurry it, you’ll only stir up the mud.” From Buddhismand Gardens

It’s hard sometimes to see the forest for the trees, only because I don’t see my life as a forest, just as I forget that I function better when I swim in clear water as opposed to the muddy mess I create when I kick up sediment from the bottom of the river of my everyday life.

The following is going to seem a bit disjointed, but bear with me. I promise to bring it all together at the end.

I remember when I first contemplated a career in nutrition. I was with Joy Bauer in the Today Show green room (seriously, I’m not making this up OR bragging…this is really where it started). My then-husband, Larry, a biochemist, was talking to her about her education. Joy has a bachelor’s degree in kinesiological sciences and a master of science in nutrition. She’s studied a lot of chemistry. She and Larry had a LOT to talk about.

Being an English major (read: a right brainer), I knew I was in for a challenge. The only science I had to complete my BA was human biology, which turned out to be the most challenging class of my college career. I got a B, even though I was on the cusp of a C. Why? Because I have a difficult time with absolutes and memorization.

I’ve always challenged absolutes. I’ve always been able to defend – in a liberal arts kind of way – why I believed 1+1=3. Math and science, however, are unyeilding. They don’t bend for some awesome new insight into Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown.” Carbs are carbs, lipids are lipids, amino acids are amino acids. Hormones and enzymes do what they do. Mutation is often a precursor to disease. How could I retain all that in my right-brain head?

Yet here I am, a few years later, in school again, taking two nutrition classes, a foods lab, and a class about what the dietary field is about.

To get to this place, I had to let the mud settle.

I’m on day four of my no-wheat challenge. I’m feeling…eh…better. The first few days were rough. I couldn’t stop thinking about bread and chips and every other wheaty-thing I’ve consumed since I grew teeth. Is it withdrawal, as Dr. Davis said might happen in “Wheat Belly,” or is it a placebo-type effect? There’s definitely less fluid in my joints, and I wake up feeling “thin” in my stomach, as I used to a few years ago. But is it due to no wheat? Or am I riding a wave of menopausal denial?

The mud’s still settling on this.

Here’s something you are NOT going to like. I hate it. I hate that I did this. And I’ll rectify it, but I need to say it here: I stiffed a server last night. Why? Because – first reaction – I was mad.

I took Luca and Claire to Bob Evans for their favorite ice cream sundaes. They were all kinds of energetic and I was tired and the server was clearly not in a good mood from the moment she said hello. That doesn’t excuse my choices. I’m just laying out the scenario.

Fast forward 20 minutes after the sundaes and hadn’t seen our server, I decided we’d go to the cashier to get our tab. The kids were still behaving well, although understandably they were a little restless. (“Up, Grammy!” “When can we go home?” Things like that. Nothing loud, nothing intrusive. Just a lot of child energy surrounding the Grammy nucleus.)

I asked the cashier…three times…to ask our server for our tab. Ten minutes later, the manager handed me a receipt and simply said, “Here you go,” to which I responded, “That took a LOT longer than it should have.” He looked at me like my head was screwed on backwards. I rolled my eyes, gave the cashier my debit card, signed the receipt without adding a tip, and walked out feeling all kinds of justified.

The mud was stirred up.

I dropped off the kids at their home. I complained to my daughter and son-in-law. Then I sat in the emotion of the experience as I drove down Route 28. What was really going on? Surely some server’s lack of attention wasn’t causing the anxiety and restlessness I was feeling, although it was easy to blame that. I didn’t give it much thought again (still feeling justified) until I woke up this morning and listened to the Tara Brach talk on responding and not reacting.

Clearly there are other things at work here. There are more trees in my forest than I realized. But seeing myself for the challenged, confused, and driven individual I am no longer scares me. My feet have the power to stir up mud. They can also acquiesce and float or tread water as I wait for the mud to settle.

Right now, I’m floating. No doubt my feet will stir up the mud again sometime this week. It’s what we do. We stir and settle, but maybe not settle as much as we should.  

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I *Heart* October

I love fall. It's my favorite time of year, especially with that "extra" hour we get when daylight savings ends.

I won't bore you with a lot of words. I'll just bore you with photos :)



Fall means:

Pickled beets from BFF Sharon in Kansas. Beets good.

G-baby Claire was born in October 2007. Grandma Julia and Grammy Lynn have no problem sharing.

Autumn Leaf Festival and fire truck rides!

Claire wants to be a firefighter. Or a police officer. She can't decide.

I always wanted to be a fire fighter. I blame "Emergency!" and Randolph Mantooth.

Handing Luca over to a firefighter so I could jump down. Nice bra strap, Lynn.

Papa Larry, Claire, Luca, Me, BFF Pam and her son, Alex waiting for the fire truck rides

What's a carnival without rides!

Claire is adventurous.

Luca? Not so much.

But he does love a piggyback ride.

And Grammy loves the bike trail. It soothes my soul. And reminds my thighs who's boss :)


Thank you for indulging me. I adore fall, even more so because of the months that follow. Fall has always been the time I gather my "memory nuts" to keep me mentally sustained for January, February and March.
 
Tell me about your fall. I hope it is treating you well and providing you with the fuel to help you through winter. Unless, of course, winter's your thing :)

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Knowledge is King & Breaking Bad…A Tale of Bread Addiction

I’ve been counting Points for nearly 7 years without giving much thought to how my diet breaks down in terms of fat, protein and carbohydrates. I lost counting Points, I became a vegetarian counting Points, I maintained counting Points, I gained some counting Points, and I’m losing once again counting Points.

Then along came the class “Fundamentals of Nutrition” and last week’s 3-day Intake Analysis assignment, and it was like someone opened the curtains in a dark room. All my nutritional info tumbled out on the screen and it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust and my brain to assimilate. It was the darndest thing.

Being a vegetarian, I'm asked a lot, “How do you get your protein if you don’t eat meat?” I’ve been a little concerned about that myself. Obviously not concerned enough to actually track my food intake, but I wondered. Apparently my concern was for naught. I exceed the recommended daily intake of protein for a woman my age and size by 30 percent! I take in a solid 61-80g of protein per day, well above the recommended 54g.

How, you ask? Here is a list of my top 15 as it pertains to my 3-day intake. Keep in mind this does not include other protein sources such as legumes, oatmeal, and peanut butter as this is only a snapshot of three days.

Fage yogurt – 15g

Soymilk – 5.1g
Homemade Curry Carrot-Leek Soup – 5.67g
Roasted soybeans – 7.57g
Genisoy soy chips – 7g
Asparagus – 4.37g
Egg whites – 10.79g
Sargento reduced-fat Swiss cheese – 7g
Homemade vegetable soup – 4.11g
Ak-Mak crackers – 4g
Homemade horseradish hummus – 3.16g
Crimini mushrooms – 3.74g
French bread – 3.76g
Cabot 75% reduced-fat cheddar cheese – 9g
Veggie burger – 7.13g

When combined, my spinach salads weigh in at over 15g of protein. My salads always include some type of protein (cheese, beans, edamame) in the 7-10g range, and together the vegetables contribute another 5-8g.

This analysis confirmed for me once again why I became a vegetarian: I like to eat. A lot. I’d rather obtain 15-20g of protein by eating a bigass salad that takes me 20 minutes to consume than eat a 3-oz piece of white meat chicken that’s gone in a few minutes or less.

Other things I learned: I’m smack dab in the middle of the recommended daily intake for each of the macronutrients. Approximately 53% carbs, 15% protein, and 21% fats.

Speaking of carbs, a friend recommended the book “WheatBelly: Lose the Wheat, Lose the Weight, and Find Your Path Back to Health” by William Davis, MD. Davis is a cardiologist who makes the argument that cutting wheat out of our diets drastically improves blood sugar levels, decreases risk of heart disease, and – of particular interest to me – reduces the pain of osteoarthritis.

I started reading “Wheat Belly” yesterday while sitting in an Irish pub in downtown Lancaster. I was dining alone, so I brought my Nook. I was enjoying a glass of wine (yes, it was 1:30 in the afternoon…*grin*) and had ordered a chicken and bacon salad sans the meat. The greens and veggies sounded awesome, as did the accompanying avocado slices and gorgonzola cheese (I’m a freak for bitter cheese). I wondered if they’d serve it with bread. The thought wouldn’t have crossed my mind a few weeks ago, but I’ve been giving serious consideration to going wheat-free, thanks, in part, to my friends Debbie (who recommended the book) and Lori at Finding Radiance).

Sure enough, on top of the salad was an amazing looking whole-grain-something kind of breadstick with little seeds in it. I wanted to eat it sooooooo badly, to dip it in the roasted tomato vinaigrette and take in every last bite until I was in a temporary psychedelic carbo-coma. But I didn’t. I ate all but one avocado instead. And to think, I used to be afraid of avocados! I mean, come on…avocados are nothing but fat, right? Run away! Run away!

But avocados are NOT the food to freak out about. Avocados are rich in poly and monounsaturated fats, the “good guys” of fats. Not that it’s wise to overindulge on the good guys, but eating avocados was a better choice than the god-only-knows-what’s-in-that-breadstick breadstick.

I admit…it was rough. I’m so completely and utterly devoted to wheat it’s sick. Yes… sick. I want it all the time. Some people easily control themselves, and I do control myself most of the time, but it’s a fight every day. The craving has me in a stranglehold, baby. (OK, now I have Ted Nugent in my head.)

So…what to do, what to do? The answer is obvious. I need to cut out wheat for awhile and see how I feel. Be my own science experiment. This will take some planning. I don’t do cold turkey well. If any of you have ideas, please pass them along! If you limit or have eliminated wheat, how did you do it? How do you feel when wheat-free?

As to the nutrition assessment, I learned a lot from the analysis assignment, but I’m not going to quit Weight Watchers. Counting Points works for me and I’m not in the mood to reinvent the weight-loss wheel. But I highly recommend that those of you who count Points, or anyone who doesn’t know their dietary intake numbers, to track their food intake in a program such as SparkPeople’s nutrition counter or Calorie King’s Nutrition and Exercise Manager. Know your numbers! It’s pretty darn empowering. 

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“Pack your bags!. We’re going on a guilt trip!”

When I was in North Carolina last month, I bought a notepad with this cover:

Know what I use that notepad for? My grocery list!

Yesterday on my Lynn’s Weigh Facebook page, I posted a link to this article: “Middle-aged women happier with moderate exercise.” I wrote:

“I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I do much better when I'm not killing myself with vigorous exercise and yet, I feel so guilty for not exercising like I used to.”

Reader Michelle posted this response: “I don't get the feeling guilty part. Why do something that doesn't make you feel good?”

Guilt, among other definitions, is “self-reproach for supposed inadequacy or wrongdoing.” I don’t know why guilt is easily absorbed by some and rejected by others. All I know is that I don’t remember a time when I haven’t known self-inflicted guilt. Guilt in the form of having let someone down. If I didn’t make my bed, I let my mom down. If I didn’t get an A on a test, I let my teachers down. If I hit a pop fly into right field, I let my softball team down. And whenever I gained weight, I let myself down.

Over the years, I’ve grown a thicker skin, something less porous. I can better discern those actions that are “worthy” of guilt and those that are unproductive self-flagellation. Better, but not perfected. Food and exercise are those precarious areas in which I am most vulnerable to the kind of guilt that produces feelings of “inadequacy and wrongdoing,” largely because their effects are physical. If I gain weight, I’m not only letting myself down, but also a community of people who have followed my blog over the years.

So what’s a more proper response? Michelle has me thinking that it’s probably not guilt *smile* Guilt is counter-productive and paralyzing. A better response would be….? Hmmmm…. A commitment to improvement? Mindful investigation about how a certain exercise makes me feel? An acceptance of the way things are now as opposed to what they were four years ago?

Yes, yes, and yes.

I found this quote recently: “Hard though it may be to accept, remember that guilt is sometimes a friendly internal voice reminding you that you're messing up.” I’m messing up when I don’t feed my body right and when I don’t move it the way it is capable of moving. And "capable" has changed over the years. I used to hit the cardio really hard, but my arthritic joints said, "No more!" and I had to dispense with the 90-minute workouts. Yet, despite the reduction in pain due due to more moderate exercise, the guilt remains.

Guilt is one of the hardest emotions to wrap our arms around and let go of (when appropriate).
But with a little introspection on this rainy day, the fog is lifting and I’m seeing guilt for the inappropriate response it is.

How much happier would we be if we approached our bodies with care, acceptance and wisdom rather than guilt? Mess up? Yeah, we’re gonna do that sometimes. The best solution? Self correct. Don’t dig out the knotted cords.

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Thinking Ahead Leads To Headache

I’ve been in this “last time” weight-loss/maintenance mentality for nearly 7 years (how crazy is that?). Enough time to sit back and recognize cycles. There are times when I’m all in, no holds barred. There are times when it takes everything I have to stick with it. There are times when I’m, “Eh…whatever.”


For instance, I’ve learned to not look ahead at the assignments on the syllabuses for my courses because I get so dang anxious about all the stuff I have to complete before the end of the semester, even though the end of the semester isn’t until mid-December! My teachers didn’t cram every assignment into one week because they know it takes time for students to take in every aspect of a particular course. They don’t expect us to know how carbohydrates are absorbed until we know what the heck a carbohydrate is. They don’t expect us to know how to prepare a complete meal for 300 people until we know how to order and figure (using math…of course…which gives me a headache) the proper amount of food needed (“as purchased” vs. “edible portion”). Looking ahead only gives me sleepless nights. Who needs that?

When I read the following blog from January 2009, I was reminded to “stay with the drip,” to stay present. So I am posting it here again…probably for the 10th time, since I seem to be reminded of this often...to remind myself that I am losing 10 pounds the right way and I’m learning dietetics the right way. Slowly. In order. In the moment. I hope it will speak to you, too, whether you are losing, maintaining, studying, raising children, taking care of someone, or otherwise needed in some capacity. Breathe. What else do you have to do right now? 
“With dripping drops of water, even a water jug is filled.” Dhammapada 121-122

How many times have you read an inspiring quote like this and said, “Yeah…I’m going to remember that,” only to fall back five minutes later into the same old same old?

This quote, though…I need to give this quote props. When I read it on Tuesday night, I was distracted by the sound of water dripping in the kitchen. Thinking I’d left the faucet slightly on, I ignored it and figured I’d check it out on my next visit to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I heard “splat, splat, splat” and I knew it wasn’t the faucet. We were having an ice storm, and what I found was water dripping from a leak in the roof.

I dug out a bowl and a towel and laid them under the drip. Water dripped slowly with an off-beat cadence for another few hours. Eventually it stopped and the bowl had filled to a few inches. I could have dumped it into the sink, but then I thought, What the heck? and watered one of my plants instead.

What a little serendipitous outcome. If my original plan had been to gather enough water from this roof leak to water my plants, I’d have been ticked off at all the time it took to gather a few inches of water. But my plan was to merely save my kitchen floor from a mini flood. The bonus wasn’t foreseen.

But isn’t that what a “diet” is? A bucket and towel and only one hopeful outcome? But when you stick to it, that rudimentary plan reaps far greater benefit. That’s what most people who aspire to lose weight miss.

I remember when I weighed 300 pounds and all I wanted was to lose weight IMMEDIATELY! As in RIGHT NOW, the moment I decided to join Weight Watchers. But it didn’t work that way. Not everyone gets that because right now, Weight Watchers centers and gyms all across the country are filled with people wanting a torrential wave of weight loss rather than a slow, steady drip.

But as so many of you reading this know (and I realize I’m preaching to the choir, but with the hope of reaching a few new eyes), weight loss is a slow, steady drip. Four years ago, when I started this journey, if someone had told me I’d still be grappling with weight issues after the big loss, I’m not sure I’d have kept it up. But plugging along month after month with the drip, drip, drip of a pound here and a pound there, it wasn’t (and still isn’t) so bad.

What I’m saying is, stay in the moment. Day after day. Count your calories, Points, fat grams, carbs, whatever, but stay with it. Stay with the drip. Your bucket will fill up eventually (and your ass will diminish). Be patient. Be still.

And remember, roofing contractors don’t usually work in the winter. You’re on your own.

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Are You Your Own Priority?

“Woke up. Fell out of bed. Dragged a comb across my head. Found my way downstairs and had a cup…” and that’s where my life stopped being like the rest of the song today. I don’t smoke and I didn’t go into a dream. I did, however, read the news. Oh boy.

Today I’ve spoken aloud three times: to the clerk at the liquor store, the clerk at the grocery store, and a guy standing at the ATM. Our conversation:

Him: “It sometimes does an upgrade thing at 3:00. It usually only takes a few minutes.”

Me: “I’ll come back later.”

My conversations with the clerks were shorter. “Credit, please” “Paper,” and “Thank you.”

I’ve grown accustomed to days like this. Accustomed and desirous. I need days like this – totally disconnected from oral communication and human contact – in order to focus on school and my goals…daily or long-term.

The woman ahead of me in the grocery store checkout bought $194 of groceries. Said she’s feeding two sons and a husband. I used to do that. Feed kids and a husband. My weekly grocery bill was crazy, too. As she paid her bill, I looked in my basket: one nectarine, two plums, one leek, 10 ounces of mushrooms, a package of spinach, a head of red leaf lettuce, two crowns of broccoli, two bananas, a bulb of garlic, one mango, one red pepper, three plum tomatoes, a loaf of light whole wheat bread, a dozen brown eggs and a container of grated parmesan cheese. Total: $27.57.

This morning I took a 102-point exam in Foods and a 30-point quiz in Nutrition (got 29 out of 30!). I printed out all my assignments, wrapped my head around more math, watched another episode of “Mad Men,” and washed the dishes. Oh…and I steamed and ate broccoli with parmesan sprinkled on top; ate a piece of bread with jelly because it just sounded so darn good; sautéed snow peas, carrots, garlic, onion, zucchini and slivered almonds in a little sesame oil, soy sauce, ginger and red pepper flakes, and served it over quinoa; and I’m thinking a spinach salad is what’s for dinner. Maybe popcorn. I don’t know yet.

Right now I’m drinking a glass of Chardonnay and staring at my Dietetics textbook. Chapters 5, 6 and 8 need to be read by Saturday. Foods, Nutrition, and Assessment need my attention, too. So does my diet. So does exercise. So do my grandkids and my children and Colton and my plants.

You know what I mean. I have no doubt that all of you have similar responsibilities and priorities, all within a household of what seems at times to be a dozen people. You have my infinite respect and awe. I know what that’s like because I was there once myself. And I was rarely my priority.

So I ask you, how do you make yourself a priority amongst the chaos? How and when do you focus on your food plan? It’s not too hard when you’re one person, but when you’re responsible for two or five or more…it’s not just a matter of waking up and having a cup and catching the bus and going home. There are infinite other things tugging at you, wanting your attention. You have many more conversations within the day than simply, “I’ll come back later.”

I look forward to your answers.

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