GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

The bad news:  I haven't been tracking my food intake for the last few days.

The good news:  I lost a pound. 

The bad news:  I have diverticulitis.

The good news:  I don't have colon cancer.

The bad news:  I am on a liquid diet for the next few days.

The good news:  I will probably lose more weight.

My question:  Does anyone know how many Weight Watchers plus points are in the barium prep you drink before an abdominal CT scan?  

Woe is me and all that whiney crap.  I’m home sick for bed rest and on television overload.  Truthfully, I’m delighted.  I’ve never been so happy to have a disease.  Since my beloved mother, Lucy, died from colon cancer, the last thing I wanted to hear is that I have something wrong with my colon.  To say I was a little freaked is an understatement of gigantic proportion.  Every time the doctor left the exam room for this thing or that I was in tears with total illogical paranoia.  By all accounts, what I was suffering appeared to be diverticulitis but other more serious problems couldn’t be ruled out until a CT was performed.  And that’s what had me shaking in my 3 inch heels. I must have said to myself, “Come on Smart Mouth, pull it together.” no less than 100 times. 

In the end, I was diagnosed with diverticulitis but I feel blessed.  I’m more than a little sad about saying goodbye to some food favorites for the rest of my life but grateful that is all that is wrong with me. 

The bad news:  I am on two very strong antibiotics, one of which has some pretty strict restrictions.  The following is the conversation I had with my boss/doctor.

DR:  “OK, I spoke with the GI specialist and she said that you do need to take both antibiotics.  You will need to fill the second prescription.  The thing is; with this one, you can’t drink anything.”

SMB:  “Nothing?”

DR:  “Absolutely nothing.  I’m serious.  If you drink even a sip, you can become very ill.”

SMB:  “Not even water?”

DR:  “No, you can have water.  I mean alcohol.  I’m serious.  Not even a beer.”

SMB:  “Uh, OK?”  looking a bit confused.  “I wasn’t really planning on drinking anyway.”

DR:  “REALLY!  I’m serious.  No wine, no beer.  AT.ALL!

SMB:  “OK, OK.  It’s not like I’m an alcoholic or anything.  What do you think of me?”

DR:  “I’m just sayin’.”

Is it a bad thing when your boss thinks you’re an alcoholic?

IF I’M DEAD TOMORROW……It was worth it!

 

My Harley Stud and I celebrated my ten pound weight loss this morning with a scrumptious buttermilk blueberry pancake (or is that blueberry buttermilk pancake?) breakfast complete with sugar-free syrup, sausage (lite) and fresh melon with coffee.  It was…

TO.DIE.FOR.

and I mean that literally. 

Let’s forget the irony of the somewhat destructive choice of celebrating weight-loss with food indulgences, there is another destructive concern at play here.  (Don’t be fooled by that sugar-free syrup and lite sausage.  It is still sausage and eating four of these pancakes cannot be considered light even when they are accompanied by sugar-free syrup and Smart Balance instead of butter.)

Quite by accident, about a year ago, I stumbled across a recipe for buttermilk pancakes.  We tried it and since that day nothing else will do.  We used to just buy the box mix and add water and sometimes an egg but no more.  We are hooked.  Nothing else will do. 

We don’t make pancakes every weekend but we make them quite often so I always try to keep buttermilk on hand.  When we decided to make pancakes this morning, we discovered that the buttermilk in the fridge had an expiration date of Feb 5th. 

…..but I really wanted pancakes.  I opened it and gave it a sniff.  It smelled like buttermilk.  Isn’t buttermilk half spoiled anyway?  What does bad buttermilk smell like?  I surely don’t know.  …..and I really wanted pancakes. 

So my recipe calls for 3 cups of buttermilk.  I only had 2 cups.  I figured that I could counteract any icky after-life properties of the expired buttermilk with substituting cream and skim milk to make up the difference. 

Might I say that they were the best darn pancakes we’ve ever had.  And if we don’t survive the night, it will soooooo be worth it.  And just to be sure that the recipe doesn’t die with me, I’ve included it below for your culinary enjoyment.  I will leave it up to you to use fresh or expired buttermilk.

 

Buttermilk Pancakes

3 cups flour

3 TBS white sugar

1 TBS baking powder

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

3 cups buttermilk (or 2 cups buttermilk 15 days past expiration date mixed with 1/2 cup heavy cream and 1/2 cup skim milk)

1/2 cup milk

3 eggs

1/3 cup butter melted

1 tsp vanilla

Mix the dry and wet ingredients separately and then combine.  For uniform pancakes, use a gravy ladle to spoon onto buttered griddle.  You know the rest. 

*Disclaimer*

These pancakes are a little more work than adding water to a box mix but are truly worth the effort.  Be warned.  Easy box mix pancakes will never do once you’ve tried these little discs of yumminess.

 

Hugs and Kisses,

SMB

SAY THAT AGAIN?

If you’ve been here awhile, you know that I’m not really very political.  I try to avoid the news because it is mostly bad and being informed is highly over-rated in my opinion.  For example, we have a breaking story in Palm Beach County that is heart-breaking.  It is a case of child abuse and insanity beyond belief.  The father/child abuser should be released from the hospital tomorrow and will go to jail awaiting a hearing.  All “innocent until proven guilty” notions aside, the death penalty will be too good for this guy.  Reading stories like this leaves me feeling helpless.  How do we save every child?  This question lays heavily on my heart. 

In other Palm Beach County news, our school board is in the process of firing our superintendent of schools.  He’s made some bad choices, some sketchy deals and by most accounts doesn’t deserve the job.  The part that blows my mind is his severance package. 

The following was copied and pasted from our local paper, The Palm Beach Post:

“Under the second proposal, Johnson would be paid more than $418,000 in salary, severance pay, accrued vacation and sick time and health insurance benefits. His insurance benefits for him and his wife would continue until June 30, 2014.”

How do you and I get a sweet deal like that?  Now you tell me:  If you cheat the company for which you work and are fired, would you get a severance package like that?  It’s insane!  Teachers are struggling on miserable salaries and this guy gets $418,000 when he’s fired?  I smell a rat!

There is too much wrong in the world.   I spent 15 minutes reading the paper, trying to do the grown-up thing, educate myself in the ways of the world.  NO THANK YOU VERY MUCH!   Now my head hurts.  It’s too much.  I’m going back to sticking my head in the sand.
 
What about you?  Are you a newshound?  Can you make it through the day without a current events fix?  Or do you want to come on over to my place?  It’s cozy here in the bubble. 

Hugs and Kisses,
SMB

THE ON-GOING, NEVER-ENDING BATTLE

I did it. 

Over the last 10 year years, I’ve talked and talked about losing weight and getting into shape again.  What can I say?  I’m a slow starter. 

To be fair, I’ve done more than talk.  I’ve made several attempts.  I joined a gym and went faithfully for two years.  I gave up the gym and continued to work out with my Wii.  I walked miles and miles and miles.  I’ve Zoned and South Beached.  I’ve tried so many diets that I can’t remember them all.  A few years ago, I joined Weight Watchers.  It works.  The truth is, they all work.  If you limit what you eat to less calories than your body needs to maintain itself, you will lose weight.  Simple, right?  Obviously it’s more complicated than that since we are a nation/world of overweight people. 

But for me, Weight Watchers just might be the best way to go.  And the reason why is this: Pride.  Vanity.  I can’t stand to lose face.   I lost 17 lbs on WW the time around.  The secret to my success was the weekly weigh-in.  I was terrified of walking into that Saturday morning meeting and having the woman behind the counter tell me that I gained weight.  (Even thought she says it very sweetly.)  That fear kept me on track all week long. 

The secret to my failure was this:  I’m cheap.  The meeting was $15 every week.  After losing the 17 lbs, I started to get cocky.  I thought, “I’ll just save the $15  and skip the meeting this week.  I can count points on my own and I’ll go back next week.  But the next week, I feared that I had gained a few pounds and so I skipped the meeting (saved the $15) again.  And so it went. 

My strategy for staying on track this time:  I signed up for the monthly pass.  The money gets deducted from my checking account monthly so I’m not tempted to skip meetings to save.  And I get to feel good about saving because the monthly rate breaks down to a little over $9/week.  It’s a win-win situation.  Or should I say it’s a win-lose situation?     

It’s a little late to be making resolutions but when you live in SMBland, late is par for the course.  And so…..here I am making a resolution:  I hope to be at my goal weight by summer.   That might be a little too lofty a goal so I’m giving myself until October but summer is still my dream.  Shorts, swimsuits, etc. 

I’ve lost 9lbs so far.  The sad thing is that I can’t even tell.  What the…..?  That just goes to show you how much I have to lose, I guess.  9 lbs?  phffft.  Drop in the bucket.  Grrrr.  But I will keep on and I will get there.  Because if I drop the ball this time, I expect you (are you still out there?) to never let me hear the end of it.
  
My recent birthday seems to present an additional challenge.   A decade ago, I learned that it’s harder to lose weight after forty.  At fifty…….it’s darn near impossible!   But I can see that flicker of hope.  There are plenty of women over the age of 50 out there who are in great shape.   And I’m not just talking about celebrities who can afford personal trainers, personal chefs and personal food police.  I’m talking real life people.  Go ahead, stand up and take a bow.  You know who you are and we hate you.  I kid, I kid. 

Does anyone out there care to join me in my quest for a better, smaller version of myself?   Who’s with me?   Come on……misery loves company. 

WOW for today:  Never give up. Never, ever, ever give up.  NEVER!   Everything is possible.  The impossible just takes longer. 

Hugs and Kisses,
SMB