OMG! Can you believe it, a Kardashian - can't remember which one (they all blur into one butt loving bundle of boredom to me) - is doing a TV series on how to look better after a break-up.
I am officially in that space now where anything the Kardashian's do is annoying. But the first step to recovery is acknowledging the problem. Let's try to objectively and intellectually rationalise their commercialism;
Perspective Number One:
At least the Kardashian's are not stick-insects and helping to repair a women who has been devastated by a relationship breakdown is great. They can help these ladies rebuild their sense of worth, give them the confidence to launch themselves back into the dating scene, perhaps even find true love?
Perspective Number Two:
.....because finding a man and having a boob/bum/jaw/eye/nose job is the best way to value oneself. Congratulations Kardashian's for reinforcing to young girls that their partner's flaws or the relationship's demise is a result of their appearance - you go girrrlll!
They really are useless, over-paid, handbag wielding piles of commercial excrement. Ohh cr@p... session 1 of my recovery clearly hasn't gone well...
Showing posts with label Body. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Body. Show all posts
Friday, 18 December 2015
Thursday, 10 December 2015
Beetroot lipstick
I just read an article that told me to suck on Beetroot ice cubes to have permanently 'natural' red lips....seriously who has the time to discover this stuff!
After the cucumber on my eyes, the beetroot on my lips and the brewed lettuce (to help you sleep?!) I'll have nothing left for the salad I'm suppose to eat for lunch.
After the cucumber on my eyes, the beetroot on my lips and the brewed lettuce (to help you sleep?!) I'll have nothing left for the salad I'm suppose to eat for lunch.
Friday, 11 September 2015
KFC and gastro
On Thursday night my 2 year old daughter started throwing up about 4.30pm and continued to do so every half an hour. By 7pm the poor little soul was exhausted and miserable and Mum couldn't take any more...so off to the hospital we went (I should mention, as I've noticed a few Americans have joined, that this service is free in Australia).
The staff were really kind, telling us there were several cases of gastro going around. We were put in the "handle with gloves" bays and my daughter soon relaxed after some anti-nausea medication. I was super impressed with their non judgmental approach. I was never made to feel like an "over reacting" Mum. I was musing on this, when I overheard a doctor tell the family in the bay nextdoor to monitor their daughter's diet.
"No probs" said the Dad casually
The doctor went on to recommend "no dairy, lots of veggies and plenty of fluids....avoid soft drink" there was an almost pleading tone to the doctor's voice.
Soft drink! Who on earth would give their child a can of Coke straight after a fit of Gastro?! And it only got worse - when I walked past to leave I saw the child (maybe 6 or 7 years old) eating a big box of KFC. When I saw this, all judgments left me and I was overwhelmed by a genuine sadness - where are our health and education systems failing that some people have so little nutritional understanding? Or perhaps what is even more frustrating is that we've built a food supply chain that can sell a box of fat-covered chemicals at a much cheaper price than fresh food...
Now I'm no Saint - who doesn't enjoy a McDonald's chocolate sundae (sauce on the bottom and top thanks) every now and again. And perhaps, just maybe, that is the only food option these parents had available to them.....?
The staff were really kind, telling us there were several cases of gastro going around. We were put in the "handle with gloves" bays and my daughter soon relaxed after some anti-nausea medication. I was super impressed with their non judgmental approach. I was never made to feel like an "over reacting" Mum. I was musing on this, when I overheard a doctor tell the family in the bay nextdoor to monitor their daughter's diet.
"No probs" said the Dad casually
The doctor went on to recommend "no dairy, lots of veggies and plenty of fluids....avoid soft drink" there was an almost pleading tone to the doctor's voice.
Soft drink! Who on earth would give their child a can of Coke straight after a fit of Gastro?! And it only got worse - when I walked past to leave I saw the child (maybe 6 or 7 years old) eating a big box of KFC. When I saw this, all judgments left me and I was overwhelmed by a genuine sadness - where are our health and education systems failing that some people have so little nutritional understanding? Or perhaps what is even more frustrating is that we've built a food supply chain that can sell a box of fat-covered chemicals at a much cheaper price than fresh food...
Now I'm no Saint - who doesn't enjoy a McDonald's chocolate sundae (sauce on the bottom and top thanks) every now and again. And perhaps, just maybe, that is the only food option these parents had available to them.....?
Saturday, 22 August 2015
Hmmm...delicious chocolate balls - no cooking, no sugar, no worries!
Cacao Balls
These are a winner in my house with the adults who appreciate something to curb the sugar cravings and even with the kids who, at this stage, are convinced they're "chocolate balls".
Ingredients
200g blanched almonds or pecans or walnuts or a mixture - whatever you like!
1/4 cup pepitas
2 tablespoons chia seeds
250g pitted dates
1/3 cup goji berries (can substitute with low-sugar craisins if you're not worried about the sugar)
1/4 cacao power
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1 tablespoon rice malt syrup (optional - you don't have to put this in if you want them to be 100% no added sugar but I like the way it helps the ingredients bind together)
Coconut for rolling
Instructions
1. Put the 200g of mixed nuts in a food processor and finely chop
2. Add all the other ingredients into the same food processor and finely chop (you should end up with the mixture being like a lumpy-paste)
3. Roll the mixture in to balls and coat with coconut
4. Refrigerate, preferably covered, for about an hour (they can then be stored in an air tight container in the pantry...I'm not sure how long for as they never last longer than 2-3 days in my house!).
Enjoy xo
These are a winner in my house with the adults who appreciate something to curb the sugar cravings and even with the kids who, at this stage, are convinced they're "chocolate balls".
Ingredients
200g blanched almonds or pecans or walnuts or a mixture - whatever you like!
1/4 cup pepitas
2 tablespoons chia seeds
250g pitted dates
1/3 cup goji berries (can substitute with low-sugar craisins if you're not worried about the sugar)
1/4 cacao power
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1 tablespoon rice malt syrup (optional - you don't have to put this in if you want them to be 100% no added sugar but I like the way it helps the ingredients bind together)
Coconut for rolling
Instructions
1. Put the 200g of mixed nuts in a food processor and finely chop
2. Add all the other ingredients into the same food processor and finely chop (you should end up with the mixture being like a lumpy-paste)
3. Roll the mixture in to balls and coat with coconut
4. Refrigerate, preferably covered, for about an hour (they can then be stored in an air tight container in the pantry...I'm not sure how long for as they never last longer than 2-3 days in my house!).
Enjoy xo
Wednesday, 12 August 2015
It's confronting for a lady to be bald!
I can't wait for my hair to grow back! Yes, this is partly vanity but, more importantly, it will stop the 'side' conversations my husband, sister and parents are frequently required to have. Well meaning folk (who are not privy to this awesome blog ;) often pull them aside to say "is your wife/daughter/sister OK?" and so the explanations start all over again...
Not sure why I'm blogging about this - I think to highlight the extended effect this annoying disease has and to thank my beautiful family who equally shoulder the burden. xox
Not sure why I'm blogging about this - I think to highlight the extended effect this annoying disease has and to thank my beautiful family who equally shoulder the burden. xox
Monday, 10 August 2015
What TO DO for a friend who is sick
I have had the most overwhelming level of support from my family and friends, my work and even relative strangers following my cancer diagnosis. I cannot imagine those poor souls that are forced to endure these experiences alone (makes me think [again!] about how I'm going to squeeze community service into this busy life!). This support has taken many forms so I thought I'd share the most helpful....
My top tips for what TO DO to help:
1. Cook healthy dinners.
Isn't it funny that when someone is sick we have a strange desire to feed them something unhealthy (cakes, cookies, chocolates). Pre-cancer, I would have been the first to do this (as my chocoholic reputation would demand) now I understand that a good, healthy dinner is one of the most useful gifts someone can provide. My beautiful mother's group have rotated this gift and once a week my family receives amazing dinners (from hearty beef & veggie casseroles to chicken & veggie pies). Instead of going to the supermarket, cooking and cleaning I literally get a couple of hours back in my day where I can rest, recover and/or spend non chore based time with my children. XoXo
2. Arrange play dates
(A) Kids.....compare (1) an afternoon with Mum who can't lift you for a cuddle, can't play footy, is slightly hazy given the drugs (OK-maybe that part could offer some entertainment!) and has turned into a bit of an anti-sugar tyrant versus (2) an afternoon with kids of a similar age where you can run, scream and load up on lard/sugar.
(B) Husband.....a day out at the footy could be just what the doctor ordered for this over-worked, under-paid but greatly appreciated Chief Support Officer!
3. Helpful gifts
I'm not talking about expensive presents. I mean little gifts that practically support someone's recovery. For example, my wonderful Mum knitted me a beanie in a particular colour I needed to match existing clothes, my gorgeous cousin found a 'funky' beanie, my thoughtful Auntie gave me a little glass jar to put a fresh flower in each day, a generous friend from work gave me a mindfulness book & diary and another kind friend gave me a special memento that helped her through a similar battle. A very smart friend gave my husband some strong coffee beans to cope with being both Mum & Dad at night!
4. Do some errands
A 'cancer-friend' (what a strange title!) told me about her support network which included someone going to the Organic Markets for her and another friend who collected the dry-cleaning/walked the dog/posted mail etc. I haven't had as much need for this but it sounded super practical and helpful to me!
5. Be yourself
Drop the awkward and have a laugh!
My top tips for what TO DO to help:
1. Cook healthy dinners.
Isn't it funny that when someone is sick we have a strange desire to feed them something unhealthy (cakes, cookies, chocolates). Pre-cancer, I would have been the first to do this (as my chocoholic reputation would demand) now I understand that a good, healthy dinner is one of the most useful gifts someone can provide. My beautiful mother's group have rotated this gift and once a week my family receives amazing dinners (from hearty beef & veggie casseroles to chicken & veggie pies). Instead of going to the supermarket, cooking and cleaning I literally get a couple of hours back in my day where I can rest, recover and/or spend non chore based time with my children. XoXo
2. Arrange play dates
(A) Kids.....compare (1) an afternoon with Mum who can't lift you for a cuddle, can't play footy, is slightly hazy given the drugs (OK-maybe that part could offer some entertainment!) and has turned into a bit of an anti-sugar tyrant versus (2) an afternoon with kids of a similar age where you can run, scream and load up on lard/sugar.
(B) Husband.....a day out at the footy could be just what the doctor ordered for this over-worked, under-paid but greatly appreciated Chief Support Officer!
3. Helpful gifts
I'm not talking about expensive presents. I mean little gifts that practically support someone's recovery. For example, my wonderful Mum knitted me a beanie in a particular colour I needed to match existing clothes, my gorgeous cousin found a 'funky' beanie, my thoughtful Auntie gave me a little glass jar to put a fresh flower in each day, a generous friend from work gave me a mindfulness book & diary and another kind friend gave me a special memento that helped her through a similar battle. A very smart friend gave my husband some strong coffee beans to cope with being both Mum & Dad at night!
4. Do some errands
A 'cancer-friend' (what a strange title!) told me about her support network which included someone going to the Organic Markets for her and another friend who collected the dry-cleaning/walked the dog/posted mail etc. I haven't had as much need for this but it sounded super practical and helpful to me!
5. Be yourself
Drop the awkward and have a laugh!
Sunday, 9 August 2015
What TO SAY to someone who receives bad medical news
When someone we love is sad or angry we have an overwhelming urge to 'make it go away'. We comfort them with words such as "it's OK", "stay positive" or "it's great they found it early". People are so fundamentally uncomfortable with these two emotions that they inadvertently ignore them or blatantly dismiss them!
I was speaking to a friend today who requires a hysterectomy due to complications following the birth of her 2nd child. With all good intentions her family and friends have been telling her how lucky she is that she's had 2 children....which, for her, has been translated as - don't you complain that you can't have a 3rd. Inside she is grieving, angry that a really fundamental choice has been taken away from her but outwardly she is 'not allowed' to complain.
I think back over some of my friendships and cringe as I reflect on 'advise' I have given friends who struggled to have a 2nd child. I recall myself saying "you have such a beautiful son already" etc etc At the time there was nothing but love and caring behind the words but in hindsight I see how unhelpful they are. So, firstly, my sincerest apologies! Secondly, yes there are some people who can not have any children (and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for them) but offering someone 'perspective' when they are stumbling down their path of grief is, unfortunately, like telling an amputee not to worry as they have another leg.
My top tips for what TO say:
1. "That sucks!" Let someone be angry and/or sad.
2. "There is no f..... silver lining to cancer".
3. Say nothing! Let them talk, grieve, vent, hurt
4. Ask them if they actually do want to talk about it. Perhaps they've had enough of explaining what the doctors said and when the treatment(s) will be?!
5. Offer your support, help and shoulder - solutions aren't necessary
I was speaking to a friend today who requires a hysterectomy due to complications following the birth of her 2nd child. With all good intentions her family and friends have been telling her how lucky she is that she's had 2 children....which, for her, has been translated as - don't you complain that you can't have a 3rd. Inside she is grieving, angry that a really fundamental choice has been taken away from her but outwardly she is 'not allowed' to complain.
I think back over some of my friendships and cringe as I reflect on 'advise' I have given friends who struggled to have a 2nd child. I recall myself saying "you have such a beautiful son already" etc etc At the time there was nothing but love and caring behind the words but in hindsight I see how unhelpful they are. So, firstly, my sincerest apologies! Secondly, yes there are some people who can not have any children (and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for them) but offering someone 'perspective' when they are stumbling down their path of grief is, unfortunately, like telling an amputee not to worry as they have another leg.
My top tips for what TO say:
1. "That sucks!" Let someone be angry and/or sad.
2. "There is no f..... silver lining to cancer".
3. Say nothing! Let them talk, grieve, vent, hurt
4. Ask them if they actually do want to talk about it. Perhaps they've had enough of explaining what the doctors said and when the treatment(s) will be?!
5. Offer your support, help and shoulder - solutions aren't necessary
Friday, 7 August 2015
Hospital Beats - Song #3: Losing Raspberry
Envisage 'angry' music. You know, that hard core heavy metal where there are so many guitar notes smashed together you can't actually decipher a tune and the lead singer is screaming rather than singing. That's the back drop for this hospital beat. Raspberry (AKA my right drain tube) has been given the thumbs up to be removed....
I smiled naively at the nurse when she walked in, blissfully unaware of the pain she was about to inflict! She took a good 10 minutes to work her way through all the tape they had used to secure the drain tube (apparently stitching it into my body wasn't enough!). Each time she tugged at the tape she put pressure on my significant cuts and at one stage was using my recently placed 'bolt-ons' as the anchoring point for her hand. I was working up quite a sweat in an effort to manage the pain but otherwise kept my cool (although "an angry song" was brewing).
She then warned me I'd feel 'a little sting' as she cut the stitches. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. Sure enough a few 'little stings' but overall quite manageable. "Ok, now you'll feel another little sting as we remove the tube. Can you take a deep breath in for me Sarah?"
I did as I was instructed, taking a big breathe in. The nurse proceeded to "remove the tube" whilst I screamed in my head every c-bomb, f-bomb expletive I could think of in the angriest song I'd ever heard. A LITTLE f@#!ing sting - it felt like she'd taken a hot iron rod and dragged it from my arm pit to my waist. "There we go love, it's all done". Luckily for her I've been built with this firewall that prevents me from getting angry at people.
I smiled wearily and sank back in to the pillows - my only thought was, oh my goodness I have to do that all again with Strawberry! The nurse put some padding on my side, then clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Hmm, there's a little bit of leakage" she said as she swapped the padding for a thicker variety. A third pad was used and finally after 10 awkward minutes she was satisfied she could tape it up.
I have subsequently found out that this nurse forgot to turn off the suction before removing the tubing. So whilst the tube was coming out, it was diligently still sucking out whatever it passed by...hence the burning sensation and pile of gunk!
Sunday, 2 August 2015
Hospital Beats - Song #2: the sound of sleep
One of the most important things about post operative care is sleep...a string of professionals swan in and out of your room telling you to "get some rest" (the irony escaping them that they've just woken you?). I particularly like the 3am obs! Hospitals are really not condusive to sleep! As the night time shift settles in and patients make their way to bed (or roll over from day time to night time position) the sounds of the hospital start...
In the room next to me is a tiny lady who has developed a unique coping method - whenever she is required to move she makes a rather high pitched "whoop, whoop" sound. It's really a very difficult sound to replicate and given she is probably in pain I feel quite awful that it makes me smile. Across the hall is a generous man who coughs up a lung every 2nd hour! Room 203 houses a poor old biddy who must be suffering from some kind of inertia as she's constantly telling nurses she's falling. And of course all the rooms have that steady rhythmic beat of the electronic drips that every now and again make a rather abrupt and rude "ping" when the saline bag is finished.
Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping
Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping
You see, give anyone some decent hospital drugs, and they'll think they're a musician ;)
In the room next to me is a tiny lady who has developed a unique coping method - whenever she is required to move she makes a rather high pitched "whoop, whoop" sound. It's really a very difficult sound to replicate and given she is probably in pain I feel quite awful that it makes me smile. Across the hall is a generous man who coughs up a lung every 2nd hour! Room 203 houses a poor old biddy who must be suffering from some kind of inertia as she's constantly telling nurses she's falling. And of course all the rooms have that steady rhythmic beat of the electronic drips that every now and again make a rather abrupt and rude "ping" when the saline bag is finished.
Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping
Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping
You see, give anyone some decent hospital drugs, and they'll think they're a musician ;)
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Hospitals Beats - Song #1: Strawberries & Raspberries
The world of western medicine, like any good profession, is riddled with alienating acronyms and intimidating titles. That's not to say I don't respect the many years of training that goes in to those titles! But I'd like to share my recent hospital visit from a layman's perspective (apologies to my highly trained medical friends ;)
The hospital where I had my 'procedure' was the same hospital where I gave birth to my two wonderful children and the same hospital where I watched my beautiful 57 year-old mother in law loose her battle with asbestos cancer. If I had a big, baritone Mufasa voice I might start talking about the circle of life... The point is, the hospital is very familiar to me. But the needles, the various bodily fluids and that potent ethanol smell intimidates me every time!
On the day of my operation I am escorted to a tiny cubicle and asked to replace my clothes with paper knickers and a heavy cotton gown that flaps open regularly to reveal those rockin' paper undies. A rather stern looking nurse asks the standard set of questions: name, DOB, allergies, admitting doctor, what am I in hospital for today... In answer to the last question the facetious me wants to answer "those creamy, salt-smothered scrambled eggs you serve the day after an operation" but, alas, sensible my tells them they'll be upgrading Thelma & Louise for some younger, more synthetic models (no, I don't normally name parts of my body but I'm clutching at a little dignity).
They then put me in my bed and the most extraordinary measures commence to promote blood flow. Firstly, they squeeze me into some very tight socks which are then covered by white inflatable leg-warmers. Much like a blood pressure test (although not quite as tight), these leg-warmers squeeze your legs. There are three sections to each leg-warmer and they soon settle in to a rhythmic massage inflating then deflating up my left leg, then the right. Finally a big blue synthetic blanket is put over me and a heating duct plugged into the end. Hot air is blown into the blanket and in no time at all I'm enveloped in the most delicious warmth.
With the air blowing, the leg-warmers pumping and the nurses flicking through paperwork I find the beginnings of an awesome percussion rift. The musical interlude is interrupted by the surgeon's nurse asking me the standard questions. I answer her in record time and settle back in to imagining Ed Sheeran groovin along to my Hospital Beat. But then nurse #3 (the anesthetist's nurse) demands answers to the same standard questions. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with all the checking. After all, you wouldn't want to be accidentally putting a couple of bolt-ons on Mr Jones in Bed 5!
Finally, we're ready for the main act. I am wheeled into a tiny little pre-op room where I am momentarily left in peace to contemplate what is actually about to happen. The anesthetist strolls in and introduces himself. I try desperately to listen to what he is saying but can't shake the undercurrent of indignation I feel toward him given the only correspondence he (or his rooms) managed before this moment was a TEXT message asking me to confirm I'll pay $1000 in addition to his medicare and private health insurance covered fees. I smile politely at Mr $1000 and hope that in a few moments time I won't be thinking or remembering anything.
A procession of people breeze in and out of the pre-op room - the breast surgeon, her assistant, the plastic surgeon, his nurse and then finally the anesthetist's nurse. And throughout all these 'visits' is the backdrop of clunking metal equipment on metal trays. "How many knives do they need?!" I ask the latest nurse. "Ah yes, sorry about this" she smiles "The last surgery ran a little over so you've had to wait here an unusually long time". Oh, how I dislike that word unusual now! 65 minutes later, Dr $1000 finally returns and administers that 'little scratch' that sends me off to sleep.
I have neither the stomach, nor the knowledge to document what happened over the next 4 hours...but when I woke up there were strange inflatable bags on my chest and drain tubes stitched in to my side. These tubes ended with clear plastic bottles diligently collecting the blood and fluid draining from my wounds. The site of these bottles made me want to puke so I did the only thing I know how to do in such medical environments - not take it all that seriously! Instead, said bottles, have been knighted Sir Strawberry and Sir Raspberry and they are the key to me getting out of hospital..... TO BE continued.
The hospital where I had my 'procedure' was the same hospital where I gave birth to my two wonderful children and the same hospital where I watched my beautiful 57 year-old mother in law loose her battle with asbestos cancer. If I had a big, baritone Mufasa voice I might start talking about the circle of life... The point is, the hospital is very familiar to me. But the needles, the various bodily fluids and that potent ethanol smell intimidates me every time!
On the day of my operation I am escorted to a tiny cubicle and asked to replace my clothes with paper knickers and a heavy cotton gown that flaps open regularly to reveal those rockin' paper undies. A rather stern looking nurse asks the standard set of questions: name, DOB, allergies, admitting doctor, what am I in hospital for today... In answer to the last question the facetious me wants to answer "those creamy, salt-smothered scrambled eggs you serve the day after an operation" but, alas, sensible my tells them they'll be upgrading Thelma & Louise for some younger, more synthetic models (no, I don't normally name parts of my body but I'm clutching at a little dignity).
They then put me in my bed and the most extraordinary measures commence to promote blood flow. Firstly, they squeeze me into some very tight socks which are then covered by white inflatable leg-warmers. Much like a blood pressure test (although not quite as tight), these leg-warmers squeeze your legs. There are three sections to each leg-warmer and they soon settle in to a rhythmic massage inflating then deflating up my left leg, then the right. Finally a big blue synthetic blanket is put over me and a heating duct plugged into the end. Hot air is blown into the blanket and in no time at all I'm enveloped in the most delicious warmth.
With the air blowing, the leg-warmers pumping and the nurses flicking through paperwork I find the beginnings of an awesome percussion rift. The musical interlude is interrupted by the surgeon's nurse asking me the standard questions. I answer her in record time and settle back in to imagining Ed Sheeran groovin along to my Hospital Beat. But then nurse #3 (the anesthetist's nurse) demands answers to the same standard questions. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with all the checking. After all, you wouldn't want to be accidentally putting a couple of bolt-ons on Mr Jones in Bed 5!
Finally, we're ready for the main act. I am wheeled into a tiny little pre-op room where I am momentarily left in peace to contemplate what is actually about to happen. The anesthetist strolls in and introduces himself. I try desperately to listen to what he is saying but can't shake the undercurrent of indignation I feel toward him given the only correspondence he (or his rooms) managed before this moment was a TEXT message asking me to confirm I'll pay $1000 in addition to his medicare and private health insurance covered fees. I smile politely at Mr $1000 and hope that in a few moments time I won't be thinking or remembering anything.
A procession of people breeze in and out of the pre-op room - the breast surgeon, her assistant, the plastic surgeon, his nurse and then finally the anesthetist's nurse. And throughout all these 'visits' is the backdrop of clunking metal equipment on metal trays. "How many knives do they need?!" I ask the latest nurse. "Ah yes, sorry about this" she smiles "The last surgery ran a little over so you've had to wait here an unusually long time". Oh, how I dislike that word unusual now! 65 minutes later, Dr $1000 finally returns and administers that 'little scratch' that sends me off to sleep.
I have neither the stomach, nor the knowledge to document what happened over the next 4 hours...but when I woke up there were strange inflatable bags on my chest and drain tubes stitched in to my side. These tubes ended with clear plastic bottles diligently collecting the blood and fluid draining from my wounds. The site of these bottles made me want to puke so I did the only thing I know how to do in such medical environments - not take it all that seriously! Instead, said bottles, have been knighted Sir Strawberry and Sir Raspberry and they are the key to me getting out of hospital..... TO BE continued.
Tuesday, 21 July 2015
Can relaxing your mind fuel your body? Meditation part #4
I can now tick off the list 'learn how to meditate'... I've officially completed a four day course with a highly (and 'traditionally') trained meditation expert (who I have affectionately named Dr Calm).
The course was one on one and was completed in her home. It was intimidating and potentially useless if I didn't discard my judgements! As I walked into her apartment in an appropriately alternative suburb in Melbourne I was greeted with the smell of cats. I was asked to remove my shoes and was guided into a tiny little room with futon couch, waterfall pictures and burning incense. The swish swish of her corduroy pants made me smile.
The flowers, fruit and white cloth I was asked to bring were all used in an ancient ceremony that empowered Dr Calm to find my mantra. She whispered a strange word in my ear three times - this was my mantra, this was my invitation to the world of meditating... And to counterbalance the growing image of levitating monks from your mind, I must admit Dr Calm also spent a substantial amount of time explaining the science behind and physical benefits of meditation, including sharing some referral success stories she had been involved with in psychiatric patients.
Now it is up to me - I can dismiss her and her teachings as mumbo jumbo or I can give it a go. There seems little downside to me. Twice a day for 20 minutes I get to have a space where no demands are placed on me physically or mentally. No bums to wipe, no tears and tantrums to placate, no reports to write, no future plans to make. A growing awareness of my body and a blossoming appreciation for the here and now. It's all good - so what's stopping me....NO, don't say it!! I'm too busy to... How am I going to find 20minutes twice a day?!
The course was one on one and was completed in her home. It was intimidating and potentially useless if I didn't discard my judgements! As I walked into her apartment in an appropriately alternative suburb in Melbourne I was greeted with the smell of cats. I was asked to remove my shoes and was guided into a tiny little room with futon couch, waterfall pictures and burning incense. The swish swish of her corduroy pants made me smile.
The flowers, fruit and white cloth I was asked to bring were all used in an ancient ceremony that empowered Dr Calm to find my mantra. She whispered a strange word in my ear three times - this was my mantra, this was my invitation to the world of meditating... And to counterbalance the growing image of levitating monks from your mind, I must admit Dr Calm also spent a substantial amount of time explaining the science behind and physical benefits of meditation, including sharing some referral success stories she had been involved with in psychiatric patients.
Now it is up to me - I can dismiss her and her teachings as mumbo jumbo or I can give it a go. There seems little downside to me. Twice a day for 20 minutes I get to have a space where no demands are placed on me physically or mentally. No bums to wipe, no tears and tantrums to placate, no reports to write, no future plans to make. A growing awareness of my body and a blossoming appreciation for the here and now. It's all good - so what's stopping me....NO, don't say it!! I'm too busy to... How am I going to find 20minutes twice a day?!
Monday, 20 July 2015
Healing - a step forward, a step backwards!
Amidst the meditation lessons, diet changes and supplements research the giant hand of western medicine strikes again! With one simple blood test my healing path is jolted in a different direction. You see I finally have something in common with Angelina Jolie - a BRCA gene. What does this mean? Even if I treat the existing cancer I have a high chance of another new one forming. The 'best' option I have to help myself is a bilateral mastectomy (and reconstruction).
My initial reaction is to say "of course, get rid of them if they're going to kill me!" but then you allow that awful Dr Google to creep in. I've read some of the most amazing and inspirational stories of women who have "fought off" their genetic predispositions...however these success stories are few and far between whereas there are thousands of successful "Angelina" cases. I have the chance to improve my odds exponentially and I like the sounds of that :)
So once again, Dr I/M is relegated to the back of the queue (I can just see her Dr Emmett hair shaking in frustration ;) and I'm focusing on Horse #7 "best rack in the nursing home"!
My initial reaction is to say "of course, get rid of them if they're going to kill me!" but then you allow that awful Dr Google to creep in. I've read some of the most amazing and inspirational stories of women who have "fought off" their genetic predispositions...however these success stories are few and far between whereas there are thousands of successful "Angelina" cases. I have the chance to improve my odds exponentially and I like the sounds of that :)
So once again, Dr I/M is relegated to the back of the queue (I can just see her Dr Emmett hair shaking in frustration ;) and I'm focusing on Horse #7 "best rack in the nursing home"!
Monday, 6 July 2015
Meditation - attempt #2: time to call in the reinforcements
My first attempt at meditation was...how do I put this delicately, well, it was dreadful!
Once my body was comfortable and my breathing rhythmic I found it almost impossible to control my mind! It was like the comfort and quietness fuelled a thousand thoughts. My brain was celebrating having space to think creatively and without interruption. Instead of relaxing and "consciously bringing awareness to the here and now", I was off and racing - imagining a month long holiday in Hawaii, writing a book, learning to ice skate (why would I need this skill in Australia?!), inventing healthy chocolate, seeing the Pyramids...you name it - anything but stillness. Some will analyse me and say perhaps I am fearful of what I might find in the quietness or perhaps I lack discipline or perhaps I merely replicated how I currently live my life - busy!
Either way, it didn't take much for me to determine I needed help with this! So on Monday I went to see a meditation "expert" (let's call her Dr Calm). It was a meet 'n greet, no pressure to buy just a genuine conversation about what meditation is and why people practice it. If I liked Dr Calm we could go ahead with a course... The more relaxed sales pitch ;)
Whilst Dr Calm did embody all the adjectives you would expect - calm, kind, considered, she was also refreshingly intelligent, well-read and relevant. She told me how it's not easy to brake suddenly at high speed. We have to allow ourselves to pause long enough to relax. It's a really hard skill to develop in a world where everyone and everything expects you to be busy. Busy is associated with accomplishment.
"But aren't you just adding another thing on your plate by meditating twice a day?" I ask perplexed.
"Yes, in theory." Wow! She was honest. "But many clients say that meditation enables them to think clearer, sleep better, worry less and enjoy more."
Somehow the next 40 minutes disappeared as I learned about the benefits of meditation. The strange thing was it never really felt like a sales pitch, it was clear this lady really believed in what she was doing. Although perhaps that was the sales pitch?! We also briefly did some postural and breathing awareness which managed to wipe the memory of my first 'soiled' attempt at meditation (for those that read my first post on meditation please excuse the lowbrow pun)
"How much is the course?" I ask tentatively
"It's a week's wage"
"I'm sorry?"
"I find it fairer to charge people in proportion to what they can afford. Don't let money be the reason you say no. I had one lady pay me $20 a week for a year!".
"But couldn't people just say they earn...well, not much!"
"Yes, they could" Wow again!! She assumed honesty in others.
So Dr Calm's convinced me - I begin a four day course on Thursday. Here's hoping I can turn this automatic pilot off!
Once my body was comfortable and my breathing rhythmic I found it almost impossible to control my mind! It was like the comfort and quietness fuelled a thousand thoughts. My brain was celebrating having space to think creatively and without interruption. Instead of relaxing and "consciously bringing awareness to the here and now", I was off and racing - imagining a month long holiday in Hawaii, writing a book, learning to ice skate (why would I need this skill in Australia?!), inventing healthy chocolate, seeing the Pyramids...you name it - anything but stillness. Some will analyse me and say perhaps I am fearful of what I might find in the quietness or perhaps I lack discipline or perhaps I merely replicated how I currently live my life - busy!
Either way, it didn't take much for me to determine I needed help with this! So on Monday I went to see a meditation "expert" (let's call her Dr Calm). It was a meet 'n greet, no pressure to buy just a genuine conversation about what meditation is and why people practice it. If I liked Dr Calm we could go ahead with a course... The more relaxed sales pitch ;)
Whilst Dr Calm did embody all the adjectives you would expect - calm, kind, considered, she was also refreshingly intelligent, well-read and relevant. She told me how it's not easy to brake suddenly at high speed. We have to allow ourselves to pause long enough to relax. It's a really hard skill to develop in a world where everyone and everything expects you to be busy. Busy is associated with accomplishment.
"But aren't you just adding another thing on your plate by meditating twice a day?" I ask perplexed.
"Yes, in theory." Wow! She was honest. "But many clients say that meditation enables them to think clearer, sleep better, worry less and enjoy more."
Somehow the next 40 minutes disappeared as I learned about the benefits of meditation. The strange thing was it never really felt like a sales pitch, it was clear this lady really believed in what she was doing. Although perhaps that was the sales pitch?! We also briefly did some postural and breathing awareness which managed to wipe the memory of my first 'soiled' attempt at meditation (for those that read my first post on meditation please excuse the lowbrow pun)
"How much is the course?" I ask tentatively
"It's a week's wage"
"I'm sorry?"
"I find it fairer to charge people in proportion to what they can afford. Don't let money be the reason you say no. I had one lady pay me $20 a week for a year!".
"But couldn't people just say they earn...well, not much!"
"Yes, they could" Wow again!! She assumed honesty in others.
So Dr Calm's convinced me - I begin a four day course on Thursday. Here's hoping I can turn this automatic pilot off!
Thursday, 2 July 2015
Tuesday, 30 June 2015
Profiting from Cancer - don't eat kale if you break your leg!
Profiting and Cancer are two words that don't sit comfortably together yet that's exactly what Belle Gibson did. For those of you that don't know the now infamous Ms Gibson, she is a young Mum who fraudulently claimed to have Brain Cancer and, even worse (yes, it can get worse!) she claimed to have cured this incurable cancer through alternative therapies. Her initially tragic tale and then miraculous survival story generating an enormous interest, attracting hundreds of thousands of followers, an app and, of course, a book deal.
This young lady was interviewed last night on 60 Minutes and whilst I don't want to give her any more airplay I must say there were a couple of themes that came out of it that really worried me.
Firstly, this strange and misguided belief that there is strength to be gained from rejecting conventional medicine. If you broke your leg would you start eating kale? If you had a car accident would you start taking Vitamin B17? If you cut your finger off would you start meditating? So why when faced with an equivalently traumatic disease like cancer would you reject the professionals that can re-set your leg, can cut you out of that car or can sew your finger back on?!
That's not to say that once the symptom is treated you shouldn't optimise your future health. For example, the broken leg may increase your chances of osteoporosis and it may have damaged your muscles. It would be wise to watch your calcium intake, ensure you're within an optimal weight range, exercise to strengthen those muscles. The best method to empower yourself, in my mind at least, is to have all avenues on your side. Eat well, exercise, reduce stress, discipline your mind, love your family and find connections.
The second theme that concerned me was that being a 'wellness warrior' is easy to achieve. The cold hard facts are that it takes effort to eat organic, homemade meals. It takes effort to get up before the kids to go for a run. It takes effort (and a whole lot of support if you are a parent!) to close that computer at work and reach your meditation class/writing class/friends dinner (insert any type of hobby here!) on time. We lead such an "and" life...I am a parent "and" I work "and" I exercise "and" I eat only organic food "and" I etc etc Something, somehow has to give - don't let it be your health.
I almost felt sorry for Ms Gibson last night - she was torn to shreds by the interviewer and seemed so genuinely tangled up in all her lies that the truth was indecipherable to her. I ALMOST felt sorry for her but then I remembered she appealed to an incredibly vulnerable group of people and potentially cost some their lives....all in the name of making a few dollars!
Firstly, this strange and misguided belief that there is strength to be gained from rejecting conventional medicine. If you broke your leg would you start eating kale? If you had a car accident would you start taking Vitamin B17? If you cut your finger off would you start meditating? So why when faced with an equivalently traumatic disease like cancer would you reject the professionals that can re-set your leg, can cut you out of that car or can sew your finger back on?!
That's not to say that once the symptom is treated you shouldn't optimise your future health. For example, the broken leg may increase your chances of osteoporosis and it may have damaged your muscles. It would be wise to watch your calcium intake, ensure you're within an optimal weight range, exercise to strengthen those muscles. The best method to empower yourself, in my mind at least, is to have all avenues on your side. Eat well, exercise, reduce stress, discipline your mind, love your family and find connections.
The second theme that concerned me was that being a 'wellness warrior' is easy to achieve. The cold hard facts are that it takes effort to eat organic, homemade meals. It takes effort to get up before the kids to go for a run. It takes effort (and a whole lot of support if you are a parent!) to close that computer at work and reach your meditation class/writing class/friends dinner (insert any type of hobby here!) on time. We lead such an "and" life...I am a parent "and" I work "and" I exercise "and" I eat only organic food "and" I etc etc Something, somehow has to give - don't let it be your health.
I almost felt sorry for Ms Gibson last night - she was torn to shreds by the interviewer and seemed so genuinely tangled up in all her lies that the truth was indecipherable to her. I ALMOST felt sorry for her but then I remembered she appealed to an incredibly vulnerable group of people and potentially cost some their lives....all in the name of making a few dollars!
Sunday, 14 June 2015
The Cure Cancer regime - Check in Number #1
Being told I have Cancer is the most confronting experience I have ever been through. In the minutes after I finished with the doctor all I wanted was quietness. The sound of people on their typewriters, phones demanding answering, of the coffee machine hissing out steam - it was all so acute...it felt like everything and everyone was screaming at me.
In a hospital quietness is actually very hard to find! I wandered aimlessly through hallways until I accidentally (subliminally?) found the chapel. I've never been a particularly religious person so it seemed rather odd to me when I finally registered where I was sitting. I collected myself enough to ring my husband and my sister and then I just waited. I waited for them to tell me it was all going to be OK.
In those waiting minutes (and it was only about 20 minutes) I resolved that I would do everything possible to get better. Little did I know that 'doing everything' would be nearly as overwhelming as the initial diagnosis. The amount of information that is out there and, worse still, that contradicts each other is mind blowing. Supposedly I can cure cancer via chemotherapy & surgery, by starving cancer through nutritional strategies, by using a corrosive topical paste called black salve (which burns and destroys tissue leaving behind a black scar), by surrounding myself with love or, my personal favourite, by jumping on the trampoline!
Overwhelmed with choices I fear I have very little 'Cure Cancer' regime established (other than the western medicine requirements) so my check in #1 is embarrassingly weak. Dr IM (the Integrated Medicine doctor I told you about a while back, 1st June) wants me to:
(1) Introduce Meditation: Meditate twice a day for 10-15 minutes
(2) Change my Diet: NO Refined Sugar, Dairy, Grains, Soy or Fried foods plus 10 glasses of water
(3) Prioritise Sleep: Aim for 8 hours sleep a night
(4) Take Supplements: 8 in total
The oncologist, genetic councelor and surgeon added to the list:
(5) Chemo: 4 rounds
(6) Regular Exercise: 30mins a day
(7) More Surgeries
According to additional research I also need to ensure I have 'fuel for the soul', so let's throw in:
(8) Soul Food
So I now have an 8-step program - you've gotta have a stepped program right?
In a hospital quietness is actually very hard to find! I wandered aimlessly through hallways until I accidentally (subliminally?) found the chapel. I've never been a particularly religious person so it seemed rather odd to me when I finally registered where I was sitting. I collected myself enough to ring my husband and my sister and then I just waited. I waited for them to tell me it was all going to be OK.
In those waiting minutes (and it was only about 20 minutes) I resolved that I would do everything possible to get better. Little did I know that 'doing everything' would be nearly as overwhelming as the initial diagnosis. The amount of information that is out there and, worse still, that contradicts each other is mind blowing. Supposedly I can cure cancer via chemotherapy & surgery, by starving cancer through nutritional strategies, by using a corrosive topical paste called black salve (which burns and destroys tissue leaving behind a black scar), by surrounding myself with love or, my personal favourite, by jumping on the trampoline!
Overwhelmed with choices I fear I have very little 'Cure Cancer' regime established (other than the western medicine requirements) so my check in #1 is embarrassingly weak. Dr IM (the Integrated Medicine doctor I told you about a while back, 1st June) wants me to:
(1) Introduce Meditation: Meditate twice a day for 10-15 minutes
(2) Change my Diet: NO Refined Sugar, Dairy, Grains, Soy or Fried foods plus 10 glasses of water
(3) Prioritise Sleep: Aim for 8 hours sleep a night
(4) Take Supplements: 8 in total
The oncologist, genetic councelor and surgeon added to the list:
(5) Chemo: 4 rounds
(6) Regular Exercise: 30mins a day
(7) More Surgeries
According to additional research I also need to ensure I have 'fuel for the soul', so let's throw in:
(8) Soul Food
So I now have an 8-step program - you've gotta have a stepped program right?
|
Meditation
|
No
|
I have tried once with
very little success (refer my post 10th May)
|
|
Diet
|
1/2
|
I’ve made friends with
salad, eat lots of fresh produce but sugar is my nemesis and I now spend too
much time cooking (my son told his kindergarten teacher that mummy’s job is “to grow food”!)
|
|
Sleep
|
No
|
The drugs running
through me (and I have two kids) have affected my sleep
|
|
Supplements
|
No
|
Not sold on these plus I've failed
to do anymore research
|
|
Chemo
|
Yes
|
4 rounds done,
awaiting confirmation this is it :)
|
|
Exercise
|
1/2
|
I have introduced some
brisk walks but it seems amazing to my lethargic body that I ran a half
marathon a year ago!
|
|
Surgeries
|
WIP
|
Awaiting doctor’s instructions
|
|
Soul Food
|
No
|
Apparently I have a
soul I just choose not to feed it…
|
Thursday, 11 June 2015
Lycra, phones and boob jobs - the beating cancer combination?!
Lycra and the overheard conversation.
May I first start with an apology - I have succumbed to the lycra. I'm not talking the 2XU or Skins type fluorescent striped leggings with coordinated bright orange Nikes....but, alas, it's still lyrca. And what's worse (confession time)...they are magnificent - comfortable, flexible and even helpful in reducing some movement.
As I hang my head in shame at this first 'yuppification' I find myself drawn to my phone. You see part of beating chemo fatigue is to get yourself out and about for 1/2 an hour a day to do some light exercise. But my over-active, poorly disciplined mind sees that as 1/2 an hour I could be returning calls, helping a friend plan her engagement party, organising a babysitter, checking in on Mum etc. So that awful female habit of multi-tasking creeps in and I find myself the perpetrator of the annoyingly loud phone call as I trot around the park in my black leggings.
And then it happens...I pass someone walking their dog whilst mid-sentence on the phone to a friend: "And then the surgeon said to me I'll have the best rack in the nursing home". I start laughing but quickly stop when I realise this stranger is staring at me. The yuppification process is complete, well at least in that stranger's eyes - they see lycra and hands-free cables and hear me laughing about my boob job.
I feel a sudden urge to hang up the phone and tell this complete stranger that it's not exactly elective breast surgery! But then, this is a stranger - how odd it would it be to engage in any conversation with them at all.
Lessons learnt:
(1) don't judge, there may be more to a person's story,
(2) lower my voice and pull the beanie down a little further
Tuesday, 9 June 2015
Saucy Salmon Salad - a good way to lose the dressing...
Saucy Salmon Salad
Ingredients
* 1 cup baby spinach - fresh and washed
* A small avocado
* Two eggs
* 50-100g smoked salmon
Method
* Wash the spinach and put it in a salad bowl
* Cut up the avocado and salmon into bite size pieces and add to the salad bowl
* Pan fry two eggs with a little coconut oil but make sure the yokes remain runny (the key here is to not let the oil get too hot as the eggs will go crispy so have your frying pan on a medium to low heat)
* When the eggs are cooked (sunny side up) add them to the salad bowl as well
The runny egg yolks give this salad all the moisture it needs. If you're not a salmon fan, substitute it for poached chicken.
Ingredients
* 1 cup baby spinach - fresh and washed
* A small avocado
* Two eggs
* 50-100g smoked salmon
Method
* Wash the spinach and put it in a salad bowl
* Cut up the avocado and salmon into bite size pieces and add to the salad bowl
* Pan fry two eggs with a little coconut oil but make sure the yokes remain runny (the key here is to not let the oil get too hot as the eggs will go crispy so have your frying pan on a medium to low heat)
* When the eggs are cooked (sunny side up) add them to the salad bowl as well
The runny egg yolks give this salad all the moisture it needs. If you're not a salmon fan, substitute it for poached chicken.
Do I need to be a doctor, a hippy or a cancer-patient to be a wellness guru?
What is a wellness guru? Surf the net and you'll find a plethora of candidates - predominantly young females with surprisingly little credentials and either a celebrity status (think Gwyneth Paltrow's blog Goop) or a serious illness (think Belle Gibson, oops, except she didn't actually have cancer!). Parking the fact that it is unfathomable to me that someone can lie about having cancer to generate blog followers, the fact remains most people want "an answer" to wellness that is not dripping with difficult-to-understand medical lingo nor does it require us all to move to the nearest commune to burn incense, participate in ear candling and only eat green things!
Where is the balance? Do I believe the Pharmaceutical and Supermarket Giants who manipulate me, incorrectly label products to sell higher-margin items and want to poison the world so we're dependent on their medicines? Or do I believe the inexperienced hippies who wouldn't know their @rse from their mouth when it comes to cleansing rituals? The internet, blogs and the media are saturated with options and with information but they're not really clear on "an answer". Given this, people like me start exploring, researching and inevitably reaching out so they can find a digestible solution...and when you're sick you need 'an avenue' - you need a strong belief that there's a pathway to wellness.
The one 'answer' I have been able to glean thus far from my cancer travels is that, contrary to some conspiracy claims, the medical fraternity indeed supports the value of a healthy diet, regular exercise and the reduction of stress (of course in addition to their surgical or pharmaceutical medical management programs):
* "Each year, about 589,430 Americans die of cancer; around one-third of these deaths are linked to poor diet, physical inactivity, and carrying too much weight."
* "Physical inactivity is the second greatest contributor, behind tobacco smoking, to the cancer burden in Australia".
I'm excited by this - it's accessible (I don't need to crush the horn of some nearly extinct Rhino afterall!). Now the exploration becomes - what are 'healthy food choices' and what constitutes 'regular exercise'? Here are my starting points:
1. Healthy diet = HEALTHY EATING PYRAMID (refer http://www.nutritionaustralia.org/national/resource/healthy-living-pyramid)
2. Regular exercise = ABOUT 30 MINS PER DAY of moderate to vigorous activity (refer http://www.health.gov.au/internet/main/publishing.nsf/Content/health-pubhlth-strateg-phys-act-guidelines/$File/FS-Adults-18-64-Years.PDF)
3. Reduce stress/be more mindful = well now here is a can of worms....back to the meditation classes for me?
So do I qualify now as a 'wellness guru' - I'm 38, I'm female, I have Breast Cancer and I have an 'answer'...oh, and I have a blog!! I'm not a wellness guru...I actually don't think there is any such thing! It all comes down to your definition of "well". Am I well if I am happy and loved but riddled with cancer or do I need to be 80 and rich? I think I'll set about defining what "well" looks like for me before I go striving for "guru-dom".
Where is the balance? Do I believe the Pharmaceutical and Supermarket Giants who manipulate me, incorrectly label products to sell higher-margin items and want to poison the world so we're dependent on their medicines? Or do I believe the inexperienced hippies who wouldn't know their @rse from their mouth when it comes to cleansing rituals? The internet, blogs and the media are saturated with options and with information but they're not really clear on "an answer". Given this, people like me start exploring, researching and inevitably reaching out so they can find a digestible solution...and when you're sick you need 'an avenue' - you need a strong belief that there's a pathway to wellness.
The one 'answer' I have been able to glean thus far from my cancer travels is that, contrary to some conspiracy claims, the medical fraternity indeed supports the value of a healthy diet, regular exercise and the reduction of stress (of course in addition to their surgical or pharmaceutical medical management programs):
* "Each year, about 589,430 Americans die of cancer; around one-third of these deaths are linked to poor diet, physical inactivity, and carrying too much weight."
* "Physical inactivity is the second greatest contributor, behind tobacco smoking, to the cancer burden in Australia".
I'm excited by this - it's accessible (I don't need to crush the horn of some nearly extinct Rhino afterall!). Now the exploration becomes - what are 'healthy food choices' and what constitutes 'regular exercise'? Here are my starting points:
1. Healthy diet = HEALTHY EATING PYRAMID (refer http://www.nutritionaustralia.org/national/resource/healthy-living-pyramid)
2. Regular exercise = ABOUT 30 MINS PER DAY of moderate to vigorous activity (refer http://www.health.gov.au/internet/main/publishing.nsf/Content/health-pubhlth-strateg-phys-act-guidelines/$File/FS-Adults-18-64-Years.PDF)
3. Reduce stress/be more mindful = well now here is a can of worms....back to the meditation classes for me?
So do I qualify now as a 'wellness guru' - I'm 38, I'm female, I have Breast Cancer and I have an 'answer'...oh, and I have a blog!! I'm not a wellness guru...I actually don't think there is any such thing! It all comes down to your definition of "well". Am I well if I am happy and loved but riddled with cancer or do I need to be 80 and rich? I think I'll set about defining what "well" looks like for me before I go striving for "guru-dom".
Wednesday, 3 June 2015
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