Mies en place

(Translation: Everything in its place)

This was Dad's favorite phrase to use in the kitchen. It basically means to prepare for your next meal ahead of time. Chop the veggies, set out the ingredients, wash the prep dishes before you start cooking, etc. I can vividly recall my father running around our kitchen island hollering out "Time to mies en place!" hours before we were to have guests over for dinner. He loved to pretend that he could speak foreign languages. :)

So tonight is New Year's Eve and instead of venture out on a night when couples everywhere smooch at the stroke of midnight, our couple-less family is having a Game Night tournament. And my job is to make our famous vegetarian chipotle chili. Mmmm.... Everytime I've made this recipe, it gets rave reviews. Thank you, Cooking Light October 2006 issue! Or was it November?

So I'm off to mies en place! Dad would be so pleased. Happy New Year everyone - see you in 2008!

And We're Off

Ventured back to the gym this afternoon to try my luck with the stationary cycle. I survived for 45 minutes but have been completely knocked out for the rest of the day. Baby steps, Teeny, baby steps.

But having successfully navigated the crazy holiday weight-crunch (thanks to the ol' gallstone), I'm more determined than ever to stay on track. See Exhibit A to the right - my Traineo.com weight loss tracker. You can sign on to be my "motivator" at their website. It always helps to get encouragement from a few coaches. :)

Given this new lease on life and in honor of the upcoming New Year festivities, I therefore unveil my new campaign: "Healthy Teeny 2008". It's way more than a weight loss goal (although losing weight and fitting back into my favorite outfits will be a major residual plus). It's a plan to carry out the promise I made to myself and to my father to make 2008 a better year for my mind, body and spirit. It's kind of a "do-ever" on my adulthood, which has had its fair share of trials and tribulations.

A new Teeny. With a new 'do (to dye or not to dye). And a new bod. And a new city (when I start nursing school next fall). And a new future. Here we go...

We Did It

And I must say, rather successfully.

There were certainly moments when tears were shed. But that is to be expected on this first Christmas without Daddy (and every Christmas from now on, for that matter). Gifts with great sentimental value were exchanged. And we visited Dad for a long while this afternoon. Although I've adjusted to the reality of seeing his name on the gravestone, I still feel like I've been punched in the stomach every time I sneak a look.

The good news is, there were also a lot of moments that Dad would have loved. From the Christmas Eve festivities (read: chaos and debauchery as only our family can do it) to the Christmas morning traditions to the annual delivery of homemade tamales from our wonderful friend Ari, Christmas '07 was certainly one to be treasured.

And of course, when this family celebrates the holidays, we can't help but add a little comic relief to the mix. The highlight of this year was walking into church at 4:30 for the Christmas Eve service, only to find out that this year they switched the time to 4:00 instead of 5:00. We made it just in time for the pastor's meditation and a couple of carols, and then we were out the door again. And we couldn't help but notice that we weren't the only ones who made this blooper. 'Guess us Christmas Eve Christians/heathens didn't get the memo. Daddy would have checked ahead of time but we've been going there at 5:00 for so many years, we figured we were safe. Oops!

Honorable Comedic Mention goes to my sister Kayley for intentionally becoming the center of attention for the entirety of Christmas Eve. 5 words, Lil' Sis: "On behalf of my mother..."

This is the kind of Christmas my father taught us to create. And I can't help but imagine him watching us from above with happiness and pride and quite a bit of sadness that he's unable to take in the fun himself. Of course, knowing him, he's befriended everyone in heaven and probably threw a Christmas bash that put ours to shame.

Merry Christmas, Daddy. We did the best we could but it will never be the same. We love you!

A Man of Tradition

If I could capture my father with one word...well, actually that would be impossible, but if I narrowed it down to three descriptors, one would have to be "traditional". Not in the imposing, this-is-the-way-things-are way but in the celebratory, I-love-to-create-a-legacy way. Whether we were doing birthday strings or cooking a Thanksgiving turkey on the ole family rotisserie, there were certain traditions that Dad cherished because they were part of our fabric.

And then there was Christmas. If Dad loved Halloween and adored Thanksgiving, he treasured Christmas. It was the one time of year when we knew we would all be together. From the homemade advent calendar, to waiting until we were all home to put the angel atop the tree, to planning an elaborate Christmas Eve feast, our family was swimming in daily Christmas traditions. We could always count on Dad storming in to the house like a puppy dog on his last day of work before the holiday, hollering "WE'RE ON VACATION!" And starting the celebration on December 23rd with a "Merry Christmas Eve-Eve" greeting. And videotaping his now grown children waiting at the bottom of the stairs on Christmas morning to be released into a living room wonderland of festive music and overflowing stockings.

We have managed somehow to keep most of those traditions alive this year. We still baked up a storm of Christmas cookies (actually, mom did). We still posed for a picture when putting the angel on the tree. We'll still have a big Christmas Eve party with an elaborate meal (this year it's cornish game hens atop a Christmas wreath medley of vegetables and wild rice...yum!). My sister and brother and I will still go to the 5:00 service at church tonight.

And yet nothing feels the same as it has for the previous 26 years. The man who created most of these moments isn't here. And that seems to make all the difference...

I'm Ba-ack!

As surgeries go, cholecystectomies have the reputation of being among the "easiest" (as if there's such a thing as an easy surgery!). Now I understand why...

I checked in at the hospital at 1:30 pm on Wednesday. Up to the short-stay unit to change into the oh-so-flattering open-backed hospital gown (how many folks d'you think I inadvertently mooned while admitted? I'm taking guesstimates). Then I got a wheelchair ride down to pre-op holding where the poor unfortunate anesthesiologist attempted to find a cooperative vein. I pity the fool who must locate a vessel in these arms. And those IV needles are freakin' HUGE! Mommy was there to hold my hand through it all, and my surgical nurse successfully distracted me with her own gallstone horror story of being diagnosed while pregnant and unable to undergo surgery until after her baby was born. And I thought my situation was awful.

The IV successfully started after 15 minutes of poking and prodding, I was pumped full of Versed and wheeled into the OR by 4 pm. All I remember is greeting the nurses with a huge if somewhat goofy grin and scooting from the gurney to the operating table.

30 seconds later (or so it seemed) I was stirring and being told that I was in recovery and all had gone well. Already?

By 6:30 I was back in the short-stay unit emerging from my haze and fearful of the impending nausea. My last experience with general anesthesia...not so pleasant. But either the drugs or my tolerance have improved - no upchucking for me! Soon afterward they proclaimed me ready for discharge when I successfully got up and used the little girl's room, and I was home by 8 that evening.

Since then I've medicated myself through the worst of the post-op pain (thank you Vicodin!) and although I'm still nowhere near 100%, I'm feelin' pretty groovy.

And so relieved that this is over!

Catch Ya on the Flip Side

T-minus 2.5 hours until I make my appearance at patient check-in. T-minus 5 hours until I go under the knife. T-minus (hopefully) 7 hours until this is over with.

See you in a few days! :)

Thank You Daddy!

Well my guardian angel has gotten right to work 'cuz the pieces keep falling into place for this surgery. I had a fantastic consult with the doctor this morning - he was friendly, informative, clear and took as much time as I needed. He even drew little diagrams to explain what was going on now and what the surgery would do.

Then I went to meet with his scheduling nurse in the hopes they might be able to squeeze me in as early as possible in January (he's out of town next week until Jan. 2nd and I figured there's no way they could find a place for me this week).

Lo and behold, when his scheduling nurse called the hospital about OR availability, someone had JUST called to cancel an appointment for tomorrow. Whadduya know!?!?! I should be feeling human again by the weekend and pretty decent by Christmas. And I'll be ready and raring to go for our family trip to Hawaii in January. Nice.

So on Wednesday, December 19th at about 4 pm PST, think happy thoughts and say a little prayer. I hate general anesthesia but I hate gallstones more.

This Is Getting Ridiculous...

...and unhealthy. Got on the ol' scale this morning and have dropped 3 more pounds in the last two days. That's minus 24 pounds since Thanksgiving.

Not that I'm complaining - this is a great start to my weight loss goals for the year - but at what cost? I'm most definitely malnourished.

I just want to make sure that when the pounds come off, they stay off and that I do this in a way that makes me healthier and stronger. So the minute I feel halfway decent post-surgery, it's back to the gym I go!

Thank God for Small Favors (And Vicodin)

I must have sounded really pitiful on the phone last week because one of the surgeon's assistants I spoke with convinced him to see me for a consult this coming Tuesday (their first available appointment on the books wasn't until January). Hopefully that means he'll be just as willing to squeeze me in for the actual surgery.

My only other option is to hop on over to Wendy's and stuff my face with a Jalapeno Cheddar Double Melt, let it do its magic on my digestive system (spicy + greasy + cheesy = my gallbladder working overtime) and then crawl to the ER in genuinely unbearable pain, hoping that they get me in for surgery right then and there.

While my situation is not life-threatening, here's the thing... I have the option of not eating and avoiding the pain but also being on the verge of passing out from weakness (and also not being able to drive for fear of fainting at the wheel- yes, it's that bad). No fun. Or I could suck it up and eat, then nip the pain in the bud with a little white pill. Better, but it means being fuzzy for the next several hours. And since there's very little in my stomach to help absorb the medication, the effects last that much longer. So I'm light-headed and dizzy either way - take your pick between malnutrition or narcotics.

I hate to admit it, but there is silver living for this one ... at least it is serving as a distraction from the "Merry" bit of "Merry Christmas".

Paging Dr. Teeny

Being a nerd comes in handy sometimes. Like when you conduct your own differential diagnosis (see below) and turn out to be exactly right. That white boomerang I saw yesterday at my ultrasound is most definitely a gallstone. A 1.3 cm gallstone, to be exact. "Quite large," to quote my doctor.

Doc gave me the option of trying a few more tests but said based on the results and my symptoms, he's pretty confident that this is the source of my pain. So he made me a copy of my ultrasound report, gave me a list of general surgeons he recommends, and sent me on my way.

The trick will be finding someone willing to squeeze me in before they leave for the holidays. A cholecystectomy (that's gallbladder removal for those who were curious) is not typically considered urgent unless you arrive at the emergency room puking your guts out. Nevermind that I can't eat anything without enormous pain and have lost 9 pounds in 2 weeks. Nevermind that my supervisor told me that waiting until your gallbladder actually ruptures is bad news for you. One doctor's office told me I'd have to wait until mid-February. As if! But another office has an appointment definitely available on January 2nd. A little better and at least it means I won't be susceptible to the added Christmas poundage. They also said they'd see if I could get worked into the December schedule, if at all possible.

Oh well, at least I have a prescription for Vicodin now. Pain? What pain?

This Is My Gallbladder

Okay, okay, so it's not really my gallbladder (thanks, Google Images). But it's pretty close.

I went for an abdominal ultrasound today because my doctor wanted to get a closer look at what was going on inside that belly of mine. Lo and behold, when they got to the liver/gallbladder, what should appear but a large boomerang-shaped white mass. Also known as a gallstone.

Dammit.

Now I am no radiologist and I could be way off-base, but when I did some research over the weekend and looked at images similar to the one above, I had a sneaking suspicion that this could be the problem. And when they dug that transducer thingamajig (nice health care lingo, Teeny) into my abdomen - which, by the way is pretty uncomfortable - I saw the same image pop up that I'd been staring at all weekend. Put it this way, if it's not a gallstone I saw today, I don't know what else it could be.

Now of all the things it could be, this is one of the more benign. It is fixable and it means that the horrific pain I've been experiencing will soon be a thing of the past. Even better, it means that I'm not losing my mind - I was genuinely concerned that the pain was psychosomatic and I was in need of some serious therapy.

The bad news is, fixing it more than likely requires surgery. Again, a pretty benign procedure that entails removing my gallbladder laparascopically. Discharged from the hospital within 24 hours and fully recovered within a week. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. And if I thought I got a jump start on my weight loss goals by having zero appetite (for fear of being doubled over in pain for hours after each meal), this is icing on the cake for my poor little bathroom scale.

Still, going under the knife is not appealing to me right about now. Especially because general anesthesia and I don't get along very well. And it's Christmas time. And I am not a fan of spending the night in the same hospital where my Dad suffered for a full month. That place haunts me.

But I guess I should be thankful. It could be so much worse. Who needs a gallbladder anyway?

Differential Diagnosis

2007 is going into the Hall of Fame as Teeny's worst year ever. Now I'm sick. With what is the question.

It started out innocently enough as an upset stomach and just feeling kind of crappy overall. I toughed it out for a couple of days before taking off work and was starting to feel better with rest. I thought maybe it was just complete exhaustion from a hellish several months or maybe even physical manifestations of my grief.

Then bam, last week my stomach started cramping up in ways I have never before experienced. It wasn't the pain of food poisoning (been there, done that), or PMS cramps (know those well too) - it was in my upper abdomen and it HURT! My doctor prescribed an antacid in case it was a stress-related "nervous stomach" and an anti-spasmodic medicine and said to come back next week if the pain continues. He did order some tests (serum enzyme levels, stool cultures - ew!, etc.), all of which have come back normal.

Unfortunately the pills have done jack for me. And as I started to pay closer attention I began to notice certain patterns. For example, the worst pain kicked in within an hour of a meal, with episodes lasting up to two or three hours. No matter how I shifted positions, there was no relief. I moved around hoping to distract myself from the pain but it didn't really do anything.

Needless to say, this has not really encouraged me to eat anything. As long as there is nothing in my stomach, it is mild discomfort that I can tolerate (for now). Talk about an effective - but dangerous - weight loss plan. And then there is the "bubble factor" - usually when I have an upset stomach, drinking Sprite or ginger ale settles everything down. Not so much this time. In fact, my Sprite last Wednesday almost killed me after I drank it, the pain was so bad.

So...my first phone call tomorrow morning will be to the doctor. I believe the next step is an abdominal ultrasound.

Any wannabe (or real) M.D.'s in the house who want to solve the puzzle? I'm all ears.