A JUICE FAST.
I know, right? It's what it sounds like-nothing but juice made from fruits and vegetables. For a while-10 days, to start. Can I make it 30? Hell, I'm hoping to make it til 9 pm tonight. Actually, I WILL make it, because Sky King is doing it with me, so there's accountability. And he knows me, so he will ask me, and I may be a lot of things, but I am not a good liar. Then, he will be all, "I thought we were doing this together" and "you know your body will feel better" and "this is for the long haul, sweetums". Well, maybe not that "sweetums" part. But the rest? Guilt.
Why are we doing this?
Well, it's a new year. Go ahead, scoff. But 4 years ago, we vowed to quit smoking-me after 18+ years, him after 15 or so. And we quit on New Year's Day.
We had quit tons of times before, on New Year's Day, on Monday, on the first of the month, all kinds of days. But in 2008, we must have wanted it more, because it stuck, and we have been smoke-free ever since.
OK, not entirely ever since. I actually quit on the 4th of January 2008, while SK can say he quit on New Year's. Funny story...
:::Jan 1 2008-just took over a child care center, and we are in the process of cleaning it to ready it for reopening on the 3rd:::
We were both doing great, using all our tactics for successful quitting:
- New Routine (new job, new location)
- Can't smoke at work
- Planned out the last few cigarettes so we would not wake with half a pack (all you quitters out there know-you can't leave half a pack, am I right?)
- Bought the nicotine patches-14mg for me, 21 for SK
- Got rid of all the paraphernalia-lighters, matches, etc.
THERE IT WAS. A half-pack, nestled in the door pocket. Calling to me, with her strangled emphysema siren song-:::hack, hack, hack::: Aimee-love me, hold me, put me in your mouth, you know you want to :::hack hack hack:::
But I was strong! I put that pack into the garbage can inside the parking garage, and strolled off to work, with a huge list of things to do.
About 2 hours later, I had compiled a hefty list of things I needed at the store. So I had to go get my car. The siren song began again, getting louder as I approached my car. But how depraved would it be for me to rifle around in a public parking garage garbage can? Gross.
I'm guessing it looked pretty depraved to the guy manning the closed-circuit TV. I dunno. He didn't say, and I was too busy sticking my patch on the dash and cramming a cig into my mouth to pay attention to whether he saw my panties as I dug in the 55 gallon can for my smokes.
I smoked like a broke stove all around town, gathering this and that, until my car was loaded up and I had so much nicotine in my bloodstream between the patch and the smokes, I could've killed a buffalo. As I got back work, I did the usual-breath mints, gum, body spray. Patch back on. Smokes broken into bits that can't possibly be taped back together (trust me, there's a HUGE difference between broken smokes, and smokes that can't be taped. And tape burns just fine. Stop judging me.) And I haven't smoked since THEN.
But back to the juicing...
So each year, we DO vow to do things better for our bodies. We join gyms, and try to stick with it.
This past year, we went back to the gym we belonged to and were paying each month. We planned on doing this because we decided to get my pain issues under control, among other things-some snooty jackass in a white coat said that regular exercise is good for joint pain. And fibro. And depression. Whatever. That, and we got the pics from our cruise, and we were not very happy with the looks we were sporting. Even Sky King, who has always been slim, was puffing up a bit. We both wanted (then, and now) to be healthier for our family, too.
So we went back to the gym. Sky King joined a Body Challenge, and ended up meeting a great group I eventually joined. We were consistent (me, less so, around flares) through November, when we had trips, house guests, trips, and more house guests. Honestly, if we could be good for 11 months, then take a week off for Thanksgiving, and two for Christmas, I think I'm okay with that. The detox sucks, though.
So the other day (the 2nd of January), I was curled up on the couch, trying to decide how soon to take my pain pill. I had been increasing them since the holiday madness began, and was pretty much at 1 to 2 per day. Not a good plan, because they are not fab for the liver, and regular medsfibro, one for sleep. I'm just not too keen on the pain pills for me, at least for regular use. I must have spent way too many of my formative years in health food stores.
Anyways, I'm sitting on the couch, curled up. Monkey Boy is gone for the week, Princess is happily eating/snacking/drinking/watching TV without interruptions from parents and brothers. I even let her make a fort, so she's on cloud 9.
All I want to do is veg out (what I had hoped to do was take care of the Christmas crap, but I woke up without much energy, and so I decided to have a pity party). I cruise through the netflix, and happen upon Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. My pal Jen had recommended it to me, even borrowed my juicer for a spell, and had good results. But last year was a big year of trial and error, and I never got around to it. But now, the title is sitting there, all "watch me, I'm good for you". I really had to contemplate: am I ready to start this? Nah, but maybe it will give me a kick in the pants, so I'm not so bitter about missing all my favorite junk foods. So I press PLAY.
Before I get into the movie, let's recap...
- Chronic fatigue
- Joint pain
- Raynaud's Phenomenon
Since I fell off the wagon, the only thing NOT waiting by the roadside was a pack of smokes, so I got some serious detoxing to do. That, and Dr. M encouraged me to reduce (eliminate? Please, oh God, NO) sugar consumption, that it may decrease pain as well. So, if only by cutting out everything yummy, and reducing stress to an almost undetectable level, I can live pretty decently, without much medical help, besides the two meds I take now. Not too shabby, til I want a taco. Really, I'm truly looking for a balance, so that I CAN do some living.
But I digress-the movie. Basically, it's about this Australian dude, Joe, who is obese, and has this crazy autoimmune condition that, among other things, gives him an awful rash. It looks a bit like psoriasis. And he goes on a 30 day cleanse, meeting and recruiting others on the way. After 30 days, he decides to do another 30 (Holy shit, right?) and winds up completely off steroids, with all his blood work coming back amazing, and he's lost like 60 pounds or something crazy like that.
Of course, Sky King got sucked in to the movie too. And at the end, he's all, "Well? Let's go get some fruit!".
So here we are-here I am, pissy that he's not hungry, trying to remember this is about making me feel better, making me able to do fun things with my kids, instead of lay around doped up, waiting for bed at 3 in the afternoon, mad that my hands hurt too much to play Words with Friends or write a blog post.
A pint of Ben and Jerry's sounds delish right now. But being able to walk with Princess to the park trumps ice cream. Today anyway. And that's how I'm doing it, like any good addict will tell you-one day at a time.