I'm not the only one who's changed

Even though I am grateful for status quo, it makes for uninteresting blogging. I ran across a friend at church that I hadn’t seen in a while. He commented that I am looking better and that my voice seems no worse than it was a few months ago. That’s good, right? Maybe I’ve hit a plateau.

I know that I have re-gained a little weight. Not too much, but I’m around 165. (I used to weigh 200+). Last night as I gave Natalie a little bedtime hug she waxed a bit nostalgic. She said that she missed her “squishy daddy.” Ah, poor thing, but wait, I have a little squish now. It’s just not in my chest where her head was.

She lowered her head from my chest to my stomach and half bent over she said, “That’s more like it.” It then dawned on me that my fluctuating weight wasn’t the problem; it’s my growing little lady.

Nurturing

People in my ward often congratulate me on my monthly Sunday school lessons. I appreciate their kind words and encouragement, but let’s give due credit to the material itself. The church has developed these very prescient “lessons” that are very useful and relevant. (I put lessons in quotes because they are actually designed as group counseling discussions/workshops.) My fellow teachers are tasked with finding a timely twist on The Word of Wisdom or some other topic that, on average, the students have been taught seven times already. I get to teach from a manual from 2006 and covers things like communication in marriage and instilling confidence in your children. They are “can’t miss” even with my shortcomings as a teacher and my present limitations.

This last Sunday the topic was nurturing children. I will share a few segments of the lesson for those who are interested but could not be there (or were not sitting on the first row!):

We began by reading Ephesians 4:6 (Bring up your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord) and reading a quote from President Hinckley that outlined the following characteristics of nurturing:

• Loving
• Teaching
• Protecting
• Helping
• Supporting
• Encouraging

The other night my 8th grader came to me with a homework problem:

4 4/7 + (-3/2)

What would you say to that?

I know my knee-jerk reaction is to solve it. Convert it to decimals and do the subtraction. 4.57 – 1.50 It’s easy. My reaction to just about any problem they bring me is to solve or fix it. That is what I do. But is that on the list? Is that nurturing? What would be a better response? (discuss: to assess her knowledge, to teach, confirm understanding, build self-esteem)

This past week we had a good nurturing opportunity that I blew. Amanda, my oldest, started college at BYU this week. I was looking forward to her spreading her wings a bit. Well, long story short, she had a miserable first morning, and was too ill to attend all of her classes. She called Monday afternoon very flustered saying that she could not find a parking place and feared she would be late to class. She was a mess. This was a problem I could not fix and I kept asking her, “What do you want me to do about it?” As I was telling her I could not help her on this one, my wife took the phone and, in soothing tones, told Amanda to calm down, take a deep breath, and to patiently keep looking. She reassured her that a space would open up soon, she still had time, and it would be OK if she arrived a few minutes late anyway. Calming, loving, soothing, supportive. I went back to preparing this lesson. That is what Amanda needed, not my curt “What do you want me to do about it?” She did calm down, eventually found a place to park and a crisis was averted. I’m glad one of her parents has it down.

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OK, back to the blog narrative. You might be thinking, “So you get up there and tell stories instead of teach the lesson?” Well, kind of. Guilty as charged. Although I do stick to the format pretty closely, I am pretty liberal with the stories from my experience as a child or as a parent. They seem to really add context to the lesson.

Guardian Angel

This morning we had the church cleaning assignment. I love those. I get to rouse the kids early and start a Saturday out right. We always go for donuts afterwards too. Ryan also seemed to be looking forward to it. The girls were OK with the idea too, last night, but his morning it was a little challenging to tear themselves away from their beds. But they did and the four of us made our way to the church (Kara is still out of town.)

Unfortunately, I have to consider my limitations when doing, well, anything, but I could do this. I am feeling a lot better than when we did this last time. This notwithstanding, as we lined up to get our specific work assignments I was secretly hoping for “arrange hymnals.” I did this last time and the nice thing about it is you can sit down whenever necessary. I crossed my fingers. Then I heard the sister ask a pair of 6-year-old girls to do the hymnals. Dang. We should have got there sooner; the competition is stiff for the baby jobs.

They asked me if I would man the big vacuum. Sure, I think. I figured at least it was something I could lean on. It was like a walker with noise! No problem. Well, no problem at first, but as my body temperature rises, my walking skills rapidly decline. I had done about 60% of the job when I noticed that it was getting pretty hard. Just then my “guardian angel” named Ryan appeared. “Dad, I can finish that. Why don’t you rest for a minute?” Whew.  You know, I don't think he just happened to wander past.  He's always mindful of me, which is a concept that brings me a curious mix of joy and sorrow.

I mean, I loved that he offered, but I hated that I had to take him up on it.  Also, I hated sitting on the couch like I was relaxing as everyone was busily cleaning. I know everyone there understands but I wished I had a sign that read “Just cooling off so I can make it back to the car.” OK, that is hyperbole; it wasn’t that bad. How about, “Cooling off but covered by progeny.”

While I sat there, the bishop’s 2-year-old daughter wandered by. She was not cleaning either so I didn’t feel so bad. She was watching her brothers clean the outside of the glass doors; I figured that I could at least keep an eye on her. Probably not necessary but I wasn’t doing anything else. So that is how I spent the last 15 minutes. Many hands make light work and soon we were off to Donut King. Don’t worry; I abstained for my diet’s sake but the kids were well-rewarded. Great morning.

Constitutionally Broke

Not broken, just broke. I mean by that is that I cannot emotionally afford to do things like contemplate or reminisce very much. One evening last month I innocently strayed a little too far in these waters and the result was not pretty. It was just during a nice moment at our family reunion. Dusk was nearing, the evening was cool, and everyone was gathering for fireworks. I was sitting on the patio just observing. The kids were playing so well. Natalie and Erika especially were in “cousin heaven.” I couldn’t help but consider how fortunate I am to be part of this family. Not bragging but it is basically perfect. Not the individuals, but I am convinced that collectively there is no finer group.

As soon as I had these thoughts I quickly changed my focus to something else, anything else, my sandals, baseball cards, fireworks safety, etc. Whew. That was a close call. OK, who do the Angels play today?

Anyway, my sister sat beside me but she didn’t say anything. I think the silence begged for a contemplative statement. I figured I was safe because I’d already had the thoughts; I was OK. I wanted to say “Sometimes I think we have the best family, ever.” I tried to say it quickly but I was not fast enough. The torrent of emotion surged and completely overpowered me cutting off the last two words entirely. I get so mad at this. My family already worries too much about me without my spontaneous sobbing. I hastily excused myself and walked a few steps away. I covered my face and felt racked with emotion. I cursed myself for this weakness. Of course she followed me, concerned that I was not OK. A brother-in-law noticed the little scene and asked if something was wrong.

It was evidence that they are watching out for me. Heaven forbid there really was something wrong. Had I stumbled or something there would surely be ten hands there to catch me. I do not deserve this attention, I do not want this care, and I hate sounding false alarms like this. Nothing was wrong; just the opposite, everything was so right that, when contemplated just for a minute, the signals in my head somehow got all whacked out.

Today my baby left for college. It is a day just begging for reflection, contemplation and tears. But I can’t afford that. I’m broke. I am home alone today, so no need to worry about a scene, but I just stay focused on present concerns. I knew this was coming and I am really excited for her. She is just going to school. In fact, it will be easier for me to communicate with her now. Maybe I can save up a little composure and cry my eyes out next week but not today.

Going Nuts

So after a month of eggs and turkey bacon five days a week I wanted to branch out. I know toast is on the prohibited list for me (something about flour being a thyroid stressor) but what about hash browns?

I asked Dr. Ardis and in a display that he’s starting to anticipate possible ulterior motives, he said, “At McDonald’s? No, not OK.”

“No,” I explained, at home, where I actually shred potatoes, brown potatoes, organic turkey-brown potatoes I think.”

He said that would be OK, but that I should fry them in coconut oil. Even though I’d never heard of that, I nodded as if I was an old hand at alternative oils. I didn’t even know coconuts had oil, but sure, why not? If turkey can have bacon…I'm learning all kinds of things.

I secretly crossed my fingers then I timidly asked, “Ketchup?”

He asked, “At home?”

Lesson #8

So, it is Lesson Eve again. This week I am combining two lessons because the fist one just didn’t have enough traction, by that I mean I just could not glean 45 minutes worth of actionable teachings. Besides, I have five more  sessions this year to cover seven lessons.

I will say that I feel very ready this week. I think I’ve gotten past worrying about the voice. The class is used to it by now. I’m sure I will still be a little self-conscious and while teaching I will get a little frustrated but it will be OK.  The highlight is sure to be Ryan joining us to do some role-play.  He'll be reading a couple of short scripted dialogs opposite a friend of mine.

Health update: Wednesday I began a new treatment.  It is a spray called "Metal Free" and is supposed to be very potent at removing metals from your system.  I am having a pretty good week diet-wise.  I think the doc will be happy.  I've eaten no candy or had no soda.  For most of today I felt very tired, but not uncomfortable. My biggest stress was getting the lesson finished.

Worlds are Colliding

I’m finding that my new doctor, the nutrition guy, is not a “hit-you-over-the-head-with-it-granola-zealot”, but he is gradually indoctrinating me. He has me keep a detailed food journal and each week we review it. He highlights the items that he disapproves of and explains why. The list of prohibitions is getting long: sweets, breads, soda, fried or processed food, and even pasta. It’s basically sugars, oils, and grains. (The latter due to FDA-mandated chemical treatments.) Each week I do a little better and get fewer highlights. It isn’t so much that these things are bad for MS, he is just trying to do everything to promote healing from within as he is steadily detoxifying my system.

Today I stopped in for a quick question. Ryan was with me and we were planning on grabbing some lunch afterward. I had an idea: I’d ask his advice on what might be tolerable from the Taco Bell menu. I said “So, we’re going to Taco Bell and…” He cut me off with “No you aren’t.” I asked, “Wendy’s?” He said I should avoid all fast food. What? That is one of the staples in my diet – probably the healthiest. I tried to explain. You see, we are really bad, nutritionally, at our house. If he went through our pantry and refrigerator, he would say “Go to Taco Bell.” The most wholesome and natural thing we have is a box of Good n Plenty. He laughed, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Oh, it is.

I went to a movie over the weekend with Kara and passed on the popcorn and soda, but I did indulge in some chocolate-covered raisins and a few Bit o’ Honey. While perusing my food log the doctor asked, (showing his junk food shelter level) “Bit o’ Honey? Is that a cough drop?”

“What?! I thought it was a food group.”

 

By the way, energy level: better, vision: good (I'm reading a Dickens novel), but the voice is still a disaster.  I can go up the stairs without the handrail but not down.