Sunday, July 19, 2015

Whiny, Self-Indulgent, First World Post About Clothes

You can't say I didn't warn you in the title.

So, here's the deal.

I hate everything in my closet.

I didn't used to.  Well, scratch that.  I DID used to.  Then I went out with Alicia from chiconashoestring, and I learned how to dress for my body type, how to shop, and my world was turned upside down.  It was amazing.  I highly recommend her.  I won't go into everything, but she taught me a lot, and a light bulb was turned on, and I thought that light would go on burning, and this was one area of my life I had finally figured out.  It's good to have one area figured out, you know?

Suddenly I liked what was in my closet.  I liked shopping.  I could walk into a store and instantly know what would work on me and why. I could grab virtually anything in my closet and feel comfortable and put together.  I was living the dream.  LIVING THE DREAM, I tell you.

So why am I back to the nightmare now?  Why do I walk into my (newly done, beautiful) closet and just sigh as I stare at the organized hangers?  I am not sure, but I have a theory.

It's all about fit.

That was one thing Alicia taught me, and taught me well.  The main reason I didn't like my clothes were because they weren't fitting me well, and not doing anything for my figure.  They were all mostly too big, too boxy, or just wrong for my body type.

So out they went.  And shopping became a joy, and I finally understood why women liked it.  I lived the dream for years.

Now I have gained about five pounds.  I am not complaining about this, I probably needed to gain them, and this is NOT a post about "oh, me, I'm so fat now, how will I ever 'lose the weight?'"  NO.  That's not what's happening here.  I am not heavy, and the five pounds don't really bother me, and I have no plans to lose them.

EXCEPT - they make it so my clothes don't fit anymore.  And THAT's what I don't like about them.  The pants are just a little too tight.  The shirts tug in places they didn't used to, "uniboob" appears every now and again. The skirt shows a slight bulge. And it's annoying.  So I pull on a favorite outfit and tug and pull, and sigh.

I now see the allure of wearing yoga pants every day.  They fit no matter what.  My boss won't go for it.  I know - I've asked him.

I have a (slightly) new body type, and I don't know how to shop for it.

Also -  I have had these clothes too long.

You know the theory of how you're only supposed to keep things that 'spark joy?'  That a few pieces that you love are far better than lots that you hate?  I am a firm believer in that - buying something because it was two bucks at a thrift store that you never wear is not doing you any favors. So I have tried to keep it to a few things I really love.

However, I am getting tired of these things.  (Except the good jeans, I could wear those every day until I die.  Again, my boss is not a fan.) They 'sparked joy' for a long time, now they're just the 'same old - same old' plus now they fit funny and so I am tempted to throw everything from Target into the cart just to finally have something different.  And so I do. Then I don't like what I just bought.  So my closet becomes a mish mash of old "joyful" things that don't quite fit anymore and new "possibly trendy but do I really like them" things that don't really fit well either because they were bought on a whim. It's not a great mix.

Let's also not forget that my taste runs to old lady. I've always been a tad sensitive to it.  I'll grab something that I think is cute and have to ask my friends "Is this old lady?"  And  you know, sometimes I get the nod.  You know the one.  The "I hate to be nodding but it's for your own good" nod.  The one that says "step away from that neckline".  But....why is it in this section of the store if it's old lady?  Just...Step away.  Don't pick it up again.  We'll pretend you didn't like that.

Nothing like having your daughter inform you that you look like a Grandma and then have all your facebook friends say - yeah, maybe.  I don't know how to get out of my old lady rut.  Maybe I just have to say - I'm an old lady.  Deal with it.

And since I can't afford to run out and replace everything I own, and am not even sure what I like anymore, I don't really do anything about it.  Also, I can't ask Alicia because I don't live in Utah anymore.  I  just sigh and tug and whine.  I have friends come over and go through my closet to convince me everything in there isn't heinous. That worked for about a week.  But there are days when I wouldn't be sad if a small house fire destroyed all my clothes, and I had to get new ones.  Of course, I wouldn't know which new ones to buy.  I don't know which stores to go to anymore. They'd all be way too young or way too old for me, nor would they fit me correctly.  I need a whole new tutorial on what my body looks like now, and better yet, what it will look like in the future.  I'm not exactly "youthening" you know.

This, my friends, is the definition of first world problems.  I know it.  But you know 'we do get judged and judgment matters."  (Did you know that women need more sleep?  I love that) Still, I think I may have to go donate to a third world country just to make up for the guilt of whining about clothes.

Also, diabetes sucks.

The end.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Always Answer Your Phone If It's a Boston Number

I got a phone call this week. It was from Faustman.  They were going through their database and I fit the profile for people who can be in Phase 2, and they were just wondering if I was still interested.

Let me think about that.

So it has been a while (2013) since I had given blood, so I still have to pass the initial screen, but my levels were at 20 before, and they need them above 5, so they're fairly hopeful. The gal said something to the effect of  "you've only had it six years - I'm sure you still have something."  Let's hope you're right.  I didn't ask about the urine I sent them.

I literally know nothing else.  They want me to fax them my latest A1C, and I told them I had one coming up this month, so they want that.  They will call me "in about a month" to set up my initial appointment to screen me and PUT ME IN PHASE TWO.

I don't know how long I will have to be in Boston, or how often, or who pays, or any of that lovely stuff.  I don't care.  I will work it out.  Where there's a will, there's a way.

In other news, the Invokana isn't being nearly as good as it used to, I don't know if I just slacked off in control or I got used to it, or what.  I did have a day where the pump was being wonky, (I ended up getting it replaced) and I don't know if it was solely that, or the drug as well, but I had some fairly serious ketones - I don't remember feeling that nasty in a long time.  The nausea was intense - I drank gallons of water and it took a day and a half to have them disappear completely - it was the first time in a while I seriously considered the ER. I cancelled my evening plans and peed on those ketone sticks every 15 minutes, watching them go from "very large" to "large" to  "medium" back to "large" and then "medium" , eventually "small"...SO FUN.

Plus, the drug is over $400.  I have a savings card that makes it free, and  that's supposed to be good for a year.  But this last refill they called and said I had to get preapproval, so I don't know what's going to happen when I show up to get some today. I'm not paying over $400, even though I still like the drug.  It does have an increased of risk of DKA, and it does make me pee, but my post prandial spikes are better.  It also is supposed to increase your cholesterol, and you know how much I hate my statins.  We shall see if this is a long term thing.  

But I do have to adjust my nighttime basals, I'm going low consistently, to the point of if I don't fall asleep at least as high as 180, I know will wake up with a low - potentially a bad one.  Right now if I am normal when I go to bed (which, you know, is ideal), I use a decreased temp rate to fix the low.  It does, so what I really need is to just go in and adjust them.

The real news is:  Faustman.  Wants me in phase two.