Half Full

Most of my close friends have come to see me as a glass half full kind of girl. I try to look at things from many sides and usually with a shrug of the shoulder I’ll use the newest adage, “Whatever”. I used to hate it when my kids would say whatever. Maybe it was because when they used it the word was followed by a huge sigh, a shake of the head, and a roll of the eyes. You know, you’ve seen it. But my whatever is more along the lines of, "whatever, it is what it is”. My sister-in-law has even jumped aboard the, “It is what it is,” wagon. There are some things in life you can’t change.

These are the times when no matter what you do the circumstances won’t change so it’s up to you to accept the situation and move on.

· A family member with whom you will never get along.

· A broken relationship with no hope of reconciliation.

· The scratched furniture from the overzealous game of spoons played one rainy afternoon.

· A wrecked car, a broken window, a flat tire.

Some say that this might be a cop out, an easy way to move on and put things behind you. But life is just too damn short to worry and struggle with things you have no control over. “Whatever, it is what it is,” puts everything in perspective and keeps the mid life ulcers at bay. SO I say, “Whatever,” shrug shrug, eye roll eye roll, and a deep, deep sigh.

How’s That Working For You?

I started a new diet today. I broke down and went to a nutritionist. First off because we are, um-hum, over fifty, the body’s I understand the bodies metabolism has completely changed. Our intake is considerably less and the types of food we now require also needs to be somewhat modified. So I sit in the chair across from the five foot two, 102 pound nutritionist who is so emaciated that she may have just returned from a year in a third world country. Imagine my amazement when she told me I don’t eat enough, of the right kind of foods. After years of watching friends and family diet by cutting out food, it is now brought to my attention that I need to add food.

My daily eating schedule is like this.

7:30- 8:00 am - cup of coffee. (Most times I drink the whole cup, but many times one of the other family member’s walks up to me with a half empty mug and asks, “Do you know where I found this? It’s like a game of Where’s Waldo.)

Noon – I fix husband lunch salad (Yeah he’s one of those) and I nibble on a couple slices of deli turkey.

3:00 – grab a cookie or protein bar, sometimes five or six crackers

5:30 – dinner. Consists of meat (beef, chicken or pork) potato, (Or potatoe, you’re my age you know what I’m talking about) rice or couscous and a veggie. Sometimes I have from five to sixteen grain wheat sourdough bread. (The more grains the better, right?)

My husband snacks every night so if I look over and think a bite to eat might be good, I’ll grab a handful of pretzels or nuts.

So by my calculation I should weigh around 50 pounds less than I do. But, “No” she tells me. I’ve screwed up my metabolism big time.

“And do you know what that means?” I must have looked confused because she brought out a picture of the human body and started pointing out parts of the body as if I were a two-year-old.

“I know how the body works. But if I don’t eat how come I gain weight?”

“Okay, let me see if I can make you understand.” Exasperated sigh followed by eye roll. (I get this from my husband and kids but geez; I’m paying good bucks for this “meeting”).

“You need to fuel your body throughout the day, starting with a good breakfast and keep feeding the body small bits of fuel throughout the day. That way your body is constantly receiving good energy and burning it at the same time. When you don’t eat, everything slows down because your system has to use the stored fuel. (Pause here for the confused look to leave my face.)

“Just little bits throughout the day. Grab some carrots. A handful of nuts. Half an apple. Just keep fueling the body and we’ll change that metabolism in no time.”

She hands me a schedule of things to eat at specific times. I smile. I can do this.

I go to the grocery and pick up the healthy snacks. I get home and slice an apple and grab a small handful of almonds and head to the desk to get some writing done. The phone rings.

“This is Dr. Simmons office. We just got information from your insurance company and they don’t cover the visit. I can take your credit card number over the phone.”

I grab my card. “How much?”

“Today’s visit will be a hundred and seventy five dollars. The lab where you got the blood work will bill you separately.”

I give them the information and as I hang up the phone I think to myself, a hundred at the grocery for HEALTHY snacks, probably a hundred and fifty for blood work, and the Doctors bill. Damn, this being healthy stuff is expensive.

Gas Gage II

There is one bad thing that came with turning fifty. The inability to eat anything you want on the spicy food chart. For me, it’s garlic. Actually, anything buttery with the garlic. Gone are the days of Oysters Rockefeller, garlic pizza and just about any of my special meals. I had a love affair with Garlic early in life and the wonderful flavor made it into most of my recipes. Now, I find it necessary to replace the flavor. I have found that extra herbs like thyme or basil can replace the garlic cloves that I cherished. It’s different, but most times the flavor is acceptable.

We won’t go into detail about what my symptoms are when I do eat garlic. Basically, I’m uncomfortable for a day. A few of my other friends have said that they too have some food problems. Nuts, the peels from some fruits and I have a friend that actually has acquired an allergy to beer. Maybe the lack of garlic in my diet isn’t so bad.

My son once told me that your physiology changes every seven years. You can pick up new allergies or foods will start affecting you differently. I’m hoping that when I turn fifty-seven my garlic problem will cease. For the time being, I sit and watch people eat those wonderful garlic butter rolls at the restaurant we frequently gather with friends …and I wait… only six more years to go.

I’ve also noticed that we have morphed into a group who likes to discuss what illness we are experiencing. The first half hour when we get together is taken up with new aches or pains that we are all feeling. There is all the new terminology we have learned this year. Many of our parents are going through knee replacement and/or hip replacement surgeries. These are things we have to look forward to as we age. My favorite discussion is hormone therapy. The specialist’s change daily on what is good for you, what is bad for you, what natural foods help so you don’t need to put synthetics into your body. It’s enough to drive a person crazy. Once I saw a special about some hormone that was made from mare urine. Excuse me? I’ll just keep trimming that one hair off my chin, if you don’t mind.

Many in my group were athletes when we were younger. And to those who are following in our footsteps I say, “What are you thinking?” The shoulder you can’t bend to lift above your head from a worn rotator cuff, the tendonitis that shoots pain through your arm from tennis or softball, the knee damage from the skiing accident... all these minor injuries develop into serious pains as you get older.

You see your orthopedist and they can now replace those ailing joints. But I’m still attached to the old knee and hip, and if I have to take two Advil every morning for the rest of my life then I’ll do it. It may take me a little longer to get moving in the morning, but it’s a small price to pay to keep my body intact.

And just because the body may be going doesn’t mean the mind isn’t as sharp as it’s always been. My adult kids tease me that I seem to be somewhat confused at times. Maybe I’ve always been this way and they just didn’t have the time to see it. They were so busy with school and boyfriends and girlfriends and jobs that they had little time for Mom and Dad. Maybe I was always a little scattered. I remember being at the mall with my daughters one day and panic sat it. Did I say I would meet them at the food court or by Sears? Did we say we would meet at one or one thirty? And this was when I was a young forty. Of course I ran into them at a coffee shop and they said, “Where have you been? We were supposed to meet here a half hour ago.” Really? Coffee shop at twelve-thirty? Where did that come from? But it wasn’t that I didn’t remember where to meet. Sometimes when you have kids you kind of tune them out. I just needed to learn to not do it when they told me where and when to meet.