It appears that life just seems to get busier and messier as time passes. A few weeks ago, my rheumatologist sent me to physical therapy to strengthen my back and to improve my overall posture. When I was stricken with unbelieveable nerve pain five and one half years ago, I only left the bed when absolutely necessary. Those necessities also included work that I struggled through while I was jazzed up on Oxycontin and Percocets. That would barely take the edge off. At one point I was on methadone. That had no effect on my pain whatsoever.
My regular doctor drew blood for some tests and she sneaked a cholesterol test in there. My levels were nearing 400. Naturally, she said I had to lower my cholesterol or she was going to put me on yet another medication. This conversation was about six weeks before Christmas and there was no way I was going to put the brakes on my epicurean diet until after the new year. On January 19, I began monitoring my calorie intake and have been avoiding bad foods (namely donuts). Since then, I have lost nearly ten pounds and I’m sure my cholesterol levels have improved. I’m eating around 2000-2200 calories/day, but given my previous diet, I’m guessing that my normal calorie intake was 3500-4000/day. Five cokes a day, donuts galore, and gravy feasts have been unkind to my waistline, and apparently, my heart. I now weigh 201.6 pounds and am working to get it down to around 185. Oh, and the wife wanted me to go gluten free a couple of months to see if it reduces my chronic inflammation due to my ankylosing spondylitis.
Now for the messy (at least for my parents). A couple of years ago I had to remove my meth addicted sister from my family’s life. Sometimes it is hard on the kids, but I was never close. My parents are trying to get her into rehab but she refuses and speaks gibberish. One thing she often repeats is that she cannot go to rehab because “they” would kill her. Now, this has come to include my parents. This delusion may have some merit because some big dude came up to my dad and told him to leave town. Apparently, my sister has gotten herself entangled in some sex ring. I know she always had problems with drugs, but I had no idea that she was this lost. My dad came from Michigan to Arkansas for a few weeks to try to get my sister into rehab, and the most disturbing story I heard so far was that my dad was staying the night at my sister’s apartment when she and her boyfriend engaged in some manner of sexual deviancy in the kitchen. Naturally, my dad had to find another place to stay. I agree that was the best move because if that insanity is occuring in front of him, it is natural to assume that he was next. To say the least, had he been raped, it would have ruined his trip. I’m hoping that my parents will be able to stop that derailed train.
Somehow, in light of this nightmare, it seems that my constant pain is insignificant in comparison.