Healthy with a Bullet

If I only get to experience the way I feel right now for another 24 hours, it was worth every bit of the hard work involved.

Some things have changed.  Sweating, for example, is quite interesting.  My inability to urinate has put a new perspective on sweating.  All of a sudden, it's not such a bad thing.  That said, I seem to be sweating less, even on the hottest days.  That may have something to do with my weight being down to a more manageable 225 - 230 lbs. as opposed to 270-300 lbs.

My workouts have not increased in length, but have increased in variety and quantity.  I've broken my runs out into a separate workout, and I travel to my old stomping grounds, the Southwest Waterfront, for my runs.  The land is flat there (as opposed to all uphill or downhill), and the boardwalk measures exactly half a mile from end to end, which makes measuring my training runs very easy.  Treadmills are a great training aid, but they are no substitute for actual running.  In addition, my apartment building has added some nice new equipment to its gymnasium.  With a couple more amenities, it will almost be a complete fitness center.

The schedule is challenging at times, but so far is manageable.  The warm weather is making it easy.  I look forward to re-taking the Army physical fitness test in October, and to whatever else the fall season brings.

A Brief Moment In the Dialysis Center

In the dialysis center, the patients usually have a clear view of the half of the center that they happen to be sitting in.  On this particular day a young lady was sitting about five or six chairs away from me.  I watched as five, now six, technicians hovered over her.  Being assisted by one technician is normal.  A patient feels lucky and special if two techs tend to their needs at the same time.  If more than two techs are present, this generally indicates a problem of some sort.  Four techs will make the patient worry.  Five or six or more will make everyone in the room worry.  The next step is a visit from EMS and/or the police department.  I have been witness to all of these levels, and have also occasioned all of them except for police participation.

As I watched, I thought to myself “I’m glad that isn’t me.”  I then immediately said a couple of prayers for the woman.  Fortunately, after a couple more minutes the gaggle dispersed and the patient went back to watching television.

Dave's Blue Jeans

My jeans:

-         fit perfectly when my wife purchased two pair for me in Amsterdam in 2002.

-         Were way too small when I tried them on in November 2005 in hopes of wearing them in NYC over the Thanksgiving holiday.

-         Were too heavy to wear in Summer 2008.

-         Were ridiculously large when I started wearing them to dialysis in 2010.

-         Fit perfectly today.

Through it all, my jeans haven’t changed much, but I have gone through at least three revisions.  And I currently wear them on all but the hottest days.

The $2.00 Samosa

Upon exiting the Metro today on my way to dialysis, I decided to walk through the local food court instead of bypassing it (no pun intended).  The very first shop features mostly Mediterranean fare, and the cheapest item on the menu was a $2.00 samosa.  Samosas are delicious little deep-fried pockets of veggie goodness.  Unfortunately this version, like most, contained peas and potatoes – two renal diet no-nos.  Today I decided that I was tired of walking by the stand empty-handed and that it was time to find out what a $2.00 samosa tasted like.  (I wasn’t going to eat it until I got home later in the day.)

The counter guy rang up $2.20, took my three dollars, put my samosa in one of those clear wax-paper pseudo-bag things, and started to make change.  I asked him if he had an actual bag to put the samosa in.  He said he didn’t have any small bags.  I explained that I didn’t want to eat it until I got home later in the day; he was still unwilling to assist.  I said “Okay, may I please have my money back?”  He briefly hesitated, and I thought to myself  “Oh boy, here comes one of those Curb Your Enthusiasm-type moments”.  I was not excited about it.  Fortunately, Mr. Counter Guy bought a vowel and handed me back my $3.00.

As I got the hell out of there, I thought to myself that a higher power, knowing what was good for me when I did not, intervened to make sure that I did not walk away with that samosa.  The kicker is that that afternoon I needed that $3.00 to pay for a special medicine delivery at the dialysis center.  I anticipated having to pay cash to the messenger, and brought along $4.00 for that purpose.  The delivery cost $2.79; I gave the messenger $3.00, and advised him to keep the change.

Thanks for looking out, Powers That Be!  You know who you are.