Dinner, paramedics and pancreas

Sunday was the family dinner. I cook and bake for my children, their families, my mom, Rod's mom and my sister-in-law, at least once a month. That is usually 24 people.  I love it. I admit. It's stressful, but it's rewarding. In the summer I try to find recipes I can do on our barbecue. This Sunday was no exception.
I decided to rotisserie a chicken and a pork loin roast. I also cooked 10 pounds of roasted potatoes in two crock pots. And I baked the most amazing rolls, if I must say so, and two peach pies. I spent about five hours getting everything ready. The food was really yummy. My guests were entertaining and I felt as if the evening was a huge success.
I also drive to Ogden to get my mom from the assisted living place for these dinners. So she is my first guest to arrive and my last one to leave. 
On my way home, I began experiencing pain in my chest and my left arm went numb. I am driving and thinking, "This is heartburn." But the pain continued and wouldn't go away and was becoming intense. 
I said a prayer and thought,"If I get home, I will be OK." 
But I kept thinking I should pull over and I thought, "No, I don't want to. I don't want."
I tried moving my arm over my head in my car to move the "bubble." 
When I got home I thought once I walk around the pain will go away.
But it got worse. It knocked me on my butt. Rod wasn't home. He was out doing bishop stuff. When he got home, I was on the couch, crying. The pain was so bad. I thought it was my heart. It wasn't anything like I read about. He gave me an antacid and aspirin.
The decision was made to call for paramedics. Now, I was coherent enough to ask him not to call 911, but to just call Davis County Sheriff's Dispatch. I don't know why. I mean, looking back, he should have just called 911, especially if it was my heart. Silly me. 
Anyway, the paramedics showed up from the sheriff's office and from North Davis Fire District. The firemen come with an ambulance. 
Before they arrived, Rod was on the phone with the dispatcher and also picking up the toys scattered by grandkids. It made me laugh and that hurt, physically, not emotionally. I mean, why worry about our mess? 
Anyway, as they poked and prodded at me they said my heart looked good, but  I was still in pain. could barely stand up. 
One of the paramedics was worried that I would kick him out of my house because he yelled at me at a fire I covered several weeks ago. He yelled at me because I was in the way of the hoses. He was dong his job. No worries. 
Anyway, I end up  transported by ambulance with paramedics who kept making me laugh, even though I was in pain, and in the emergency room at 11 a.m. and for the next four hours, I was poked, prodded, heart checked and X-rayed.
Turns out my pancreas was infected. I hate to admit it, but I had no clue where my pancreas lived in my body until early Monday morning. And infected pancreas can cause pain in the chest, not just in the abdomen area.
Now I'm home. Drinking liquids. Taking meds. No food until Wednesday.
I saw my regular doctor Monday. It looks like I may have to change my diet. Less meat, more vegetables. Less fatty foods (ice cream, cream cheese, etc), and more healthy foods. I'm not too happy about that. But I'm alive.
Besides this weekend is the sleepover with my grandkids. I love having them over more than they like coming. Also one of my sisters-in-law is getting married. Not the one I cook for, another. I really want to be there.

Summer

It's is so hot outside.
Almost unbearable.
And there are fires. I've covered two in two weeks. That's nothing. The fires I've gone to any other time of the year would've been big deals, but in the context of all the wildfires that have happened in the past three weeks, they're minor league.
Fires tend to make you smell as if you've been camping. It doesn't matter that you have to go into the office. The fire doesn't care. It makes you smell.
And then it makes your clothes smell. And when you go home, the fire smell makes the clothes in the hamper smell, so the room where the hamper is will also smell and the smell goes on, until you can get the clothes cleaned.
It's so hot outside.
Almost unbearable.
And there's the plants in pots and the flowers in beds that need water. Lots and lots of water. Not like once every other day or so, but almost daily and if they're in pots, twice a day.
It's so outside.
Almost unbearable.
And my dog needs to go for walks, but she's upchucked every time we've gone two miles. And that's in the early morning hours. I'm concerned. She got really sick a week ago when she dumped out her water on a Saturday when it first got really outside. I thought she was going to die. But we got her to cool down, but she's not ready to walk more than two miles, let alone run.
It's so outside.
Almost unbearable.
My freezer is full of ice cream treats., like Fat Boy Sundaes. I love those.
They are my favorites.
I think I will have one tonight after I walk the dog and water the plants and wash my clothes.
Yes, I covered a grass fire today and I can smell it.

The Birds

Several weeks ago I noticed  a bird's nest in the golden delicious tree that shades my dog's kennel.
A robin pair had set up housekeeping. I have carefully guarded the robin nest from curious little grandsons who have wanted to examine it up close and personal.
Several days ago when I went outside to feed Jade, my dog, Mr. and Mrs. Robin were flying around and chirping an alarm that equalled Homeland Security. A magpie had dared attempted to steal the eggs.
Now Mr. and Mrs. Robin are vigilantes, who are staking out the kennel for intruders. Apparently I'm an intruder. I cannot even go into Jade's kennel without getting attacked.
Yup, you read it right.
Remember Alfred Hitchcock's movie, The Birds? It scared the chickens out of me.
Well, that is nothing compared to two robins who have turned into Kamikaze pilots.
I'm not kidding.
They swoop around my head, batting their wings, chirping the alarm, attempting to do me harm. Me! Their NO. 1 protector.
Hell-LO!
So tonight when I go outside to feed my dog, I'm going to be armed with an umbrella.
Why?
Beaks are one thing.
Poop is another.

Finished

For those who've been following the half-marathon saga, I just need to say "thank you." Without your support, whether it was physical or just mental I don't think I would've finished.

Yup, I finished IT!

I finished in 2 hours and 44 minutes. Not bad for a 53-year- old broad who didn't run anything but run her husband crazy three months ago.

How was the run? you ask.

Well, more than 300 people in all shapes, sizes and ages showed up. It felt overwhelming. As we started out it just amazed me how fast everyone else seemed to be running, while I jogged my way along.

Nothing can prepare you for that moment when you see your son running towards you. And I'm not talking about when he was a little guy learning to walk. This is at the 4.5 mile area and my son was running back to the finish line. I had yet to make it to the 7 mile mark. Umm. Did I say I was as slow as a turtle? Chad finished in 1 hour and 30 minutes. But there he was at the finish line, yelling, "Sprint it Mom!" I think he was getting even for all the years I've yelled that at him at the finish line.

And nothing prepares you for when a 4-year-old and 7-year-old run out to finish the last 50 yards with you. And naturally, they cross the finish line before you do, but it still made me cry.

Oh, don't get all excited. I did not run the entire 13 miles. I walked part of it. I would count to 100 or 60 or some odd number while running then allow myself to walk to a tree or fence post and then it was back to running.

How do my legs feel?

Well, I haven't worn heels this week. Not a good idea.

But I did jog/walk two miles on Wednesday. I've walked two miles on Tuesday and today, Thursday. I plan to run 4 miles on Saturday.

I'm not giving up.

I think I've found a new passion, even though I'm slow.

Four more days

In just four days I will have completed a half-marathon. What has surprised me the most on this mid-life crisis journey is the number of people who actually have read my silly posts about how far I ran and how long it took me.

Today for instance:

I called Woods Cross Police Chief Greg Butler to get information on a fatality for a short story for the newspaper. When he said how old the woman was who died, I sighed.

"You're 50 too?" he said.

"I'm 53," I said.

Then he asked me when my race was. I don't think of the event as a race. If I did that would mean I would have to run fast in order to win and I'm not going to run fast to win. I'm going to jog/run/walk and finish.

I was surprised he knew about it. He did because he's been following it on Facebook. Seriously.

I ran into people in the store and they ask. It has become a topic brought up by my neighbors.

I am overwhelmed by the support and

Scared.

What

If

I

Don't

Finish?

Seriously?

OK, I will finish. I know I will. I mean I have to. My granddaughters are expecting me to finish. My daughters and sons are expecting me to finish. My husband said he knows I will finish. My daughters-in-law believe I will finish. My sons-in-law will be there.

And my cousin Beth Dunn Harringtonsaid she will be there.

She's taking up walking and I'm really proud of her. I've been following her progress too and she's amazing.

Oh, I learned something today.

It seems yoga will make your body produce noises.

I didn't know that. I thought it was something I ate. Changed my diet several times.

You see, I do yoga to warm up my body before I run/jog/walk.

And for the first 15 minutes I'm running/jogging bodily noises happen. I've been very grateful to jog only with my dog, Jade.

Well, now I know. Seems I'm bending them out of me.:)

Hills do not sing.

Well, five Mondays from now I hope I have finished the half-Marathon in Syracuse. But for now, I'm training and it's one of the hardest task I've undertaken.

I know, what doesn't kill us will only make us stronger.

Last week I was so proud because I had managed to run for 10 minutes without stopping. But then I agreed, in a moment of weakness, to jog/walk the 9 miles on the training schedule with Ann, my daughter-in-law, who is running, not jogging or walking, in the half-marathon also.
I also agreed, bless me soul and soles, to run in Pleasant View, where she lives, happily with my son and my beautiful grandchildren. Pleasant View is a pleasant place with lots of views because it is next to the mountains, or more accurately, in the foothills. I live in West Point, which is west of the mountains, close to the Great Salt Lake. The topography of the two areas are as different as night is to day.
My training the past several weeks has happened on relatively flat routes, with elevation changes no more than 30 feet  in one mile. I thought I was prepared. I thought I was Rocky. I was ready to take Ann on. Did I mention she is 20 years younger than me?
Saturday morning arrived early.
First mistake: I didn't get to bed Friday night until 12:10 a.m. which was technically, Saturday morning.
The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. I ate some breakfast, read my Book of Mormon and then noticed I was already late to get to Ann's house, which is 30 minutes away.
Once I got there, slightly before 7 a.m., we spent a few minutes doing some yoga stretches. I should have spent a good 20 minutes stretching, but my mind was racing with my Saturday schedule. I had laundry to do. Groceries to buy. A cake to bake for my oldest granddaughter. Sunday dinner stuff to get ready for the family. A house to clean for my special Sunday guests --- my children and grandchildren.
So second mistake: I was stressed out before I started stretching and running, which makes running not fun.
Then Ann and I headed out of her house, straight up the hill to the route, which was supposed to be flat.
The route, we later learned from my GPS MapMyFitness.com app on my phone (Did I mention I love, love, love my phone and its apps?) has an elevation change of almost 300 feet in the first 1.5 miles. My legs were dead at the half mile mark.
But I continued. I endured. I did not require oxygen, although I would have sucked up any that was offered. I walk/jogged the 9 miles on paved and gravel paths, with Ann say, "Good job! You're doing great!" (One more "great" and I had visions of grating her.) When we were done, I did not need a paramedic or my son, the nurse practioner. I needed a shower and liquids --- lots. I wanted a pillow and a bed, also, but that was not in the cards.
This morning as I hauled my whatever out of bed, every single muscle in my body and my legs protested. 
"Are you kidding?" they screamed as I pushed myself  to run 4 miles this morning. It took me 52 minutes, instead of 40 minutes, which I did last week.
I shall endure. I shall make it. 
But just in case I don't, have the really cute paramedics available, please.

Half-Marathon

Spring. I pulled out some of my spring clothes and .....well..... the scales were unfortunately accurate. I had added a few extra pounds over the winter to my waistline. I got back to serious work outs.
Then something happened. I was just talking. You know, talking to two of my daughters and Rod while they ate dinner, and said how impressed I was with Chad, our son, who had signed up for his third marathon.
Wow. He's running his THIRD marathon. His first one was in 2010. His second on was last year and now, at age 30, he's running in July in Morgan with the last five miles uphill.
"I wish I could do that," I thought, or so I thought I thought.
Nope, IT came out of my mouth. My daughters laughed. Sadly so did the voices in my head from the past also laughed and scorned the idea of me running or jogging.
But My Rod, the love of my life, said, "You can do anything. You ought to give it a try."
OK, for those who have heard me say, "I don't run, I walk," I want you to know the following morning, I put on my sneakers, used MapMyFitness App on my phone and ran/jogged/walked two miles.
Now Saturday morning, this Saturday morning, I'm going to jog/walk seven miles while listening to assorted music from Pandora and welcoming the MMF app voice every three minutes. This nice woman says, "Your total distance is..." "Your total time is...". I just love to hear that woman's voice in my head! She is so encouraging.
Two weeks ago, I looked for a race and found one. I decided to put my money and feet where my mouth is and I've signed up to run to help abused children. Proceeds from the event goes to counseling for the children.
So I hope to see you in Syracuse on Monday, May 27, when I jog/walk/ (possibly crawl) my FIRST half-marathon! I am suspecting my finish will be towards the end. It starts at 6:45 a.m. and so I think 8:45 a.m. I should be at Jensen Park. If I get there sooner, boy, I will be pumped!
Thank you, Rod, for believing in me. Thank you, Terra and Jennica, for your support (now you stopped laughing:) and thanks to Ann, my daughter-in-law, who thought I said, "Will you run with me?" when I said, "Will you cheer for me?" She's training too. And thank you, Chad, who is an inspiration.
To see the route Ann and I are jogging. go to  http://www.stridersrunning.com/. It's the Memorial Day Half-Marathon. I'm really excited...most of the time.
Oh, and the spring clothes: They fit. :)

Mortality

Mortality hit me this week. The day before Valentine's, the uncle of my two oldest kids,(techically my stepkids) died of a massive heart attack. Unexpected, it was. He was 53. My age. His birthday was in June. Mine is in September.


I mean, I know of people my age who have died. But they have been sick with cancer or something, so it was not unexpected. But Tony's death was unexpected. I guess what shocked me more was he died three weeks after his dad died. His dad, Reid, had been sick for awhile, but no one knew what was wrong until just after Christmas. He had ASL or Lou Gehrig's disease. He died within a week of the diagnosis.


So I'm feeling like my number could come up. It will, but not for a few more decades. I've got the "I will live until I'm 90" genes, unless something awful happens, like cancer. My daughters have asked their dad not to croak before I do. They say they don't want to deal with a crazy, old woman, but would rather deal with a funny, old man.


Anyway, I was feeling old before these two men died. I was writing the birthdays and ages of my children and grandchildren in the 2012 calendar that hangs on my wall. I cried when I realized my oldest grandson will be 18 this year and graduate from high school in 2013. My youngest grandson will be 2 this October. My oldest child, (OK, don't get technical on me. I raised him), will be 39 and my youngest child (this one I gave birth to) will be 25. Rod will be two years away from 60.

Rod laughed at me when he came in the house that Saturday and found me in tears. I said my grandchildren will be all grown and gone before too long. He said, not for another 10 years or so, and even then great-grandchildren may join us for the monthly sleepovers.


Technically, we are young compared to our ancestors. Rod's relatives have all managed to live well past 90 and some past 100. And most have continued doing the things they love to do, like farming, construction, sewing, reading, traveling and hosting parties for their grandchildren.

So here's to the future. :)

Being alone

My foreign exchange student went to Hawaii for the week. It's part of her private school program. I knew there was something wrong with public schools. I think more high school students would stay in school if they knew a trip to Hawaii was part of the curriculum in the middle of January. I mean, let's look at this.

Let's pretend I'm 16 years old. My school offers a week long trip to Hawaii in the middle of January. Should I stay home in Utah where temperatures are expected to drop below freezing? Or should I get the funds, board that plane and jump into a swimsuit as soon as possible?

Umm.

I think that is called a no-brainer.

She's going to be back Friday at noon.

Now you'd think with a whole week I'd have an empty house. You'd think I would plan my life better.

Nope. Not I.

Clarissa left on Saturday. But the night before I watched two of my grandsons so their parents could go out. Due to circumstances beyond their control, they did not get back by 9 p.m. like they thought. At 10 p.m. the two little guys, ages 17 months and 4 years, were sound asleep. At 10:15 p.m. I texted my son and my daughter-in-law and told them we'd keep the boys until 10 a.m. Saturday. I mean, it would be cruel to wake them up and drag them out into the cold just to go back to sleep at their house? Never mind, Ben had taken over my pillow and blankie. (Yes, you read that right. I have a blankie. Don't ask.)

After I got Clarissa to her school at 11 a.m. Saturday, Rod and I grabbed Jennica's boarder. She has a woman from China living with her. May is a teacher at Jennica's school.

We took May to the gun range and let her shoot to her heart's content.

On Sunday, my gang came over for dinner. I planned this dinner not realizing it would be the first and last Sunday Rod and I would have by ourselves for a while. But they all brought cookies and left them, which explains the extra five pounds I've gained this week..

Monday I invited Jennica and Ty over for dinner and games. Oh, by the way, I love Sequence, but alas. I'm not too good at it. It seems I don't see the winning sequence that could be played.

Then on Tuesday, Jennica came over for scones and almost ran over me. Could you see the headline? "Mom ran over by daughter in own driveway." OK, I was wearing my work clothes. They are dark. But I was walking in my driveway from the mailbox. Lucky for me, she had slowed down before whipping into the driveway.

Wednesday, I bought dinner and took it over to Terra's. She was sick. Her boys were sick. She needed a moment.

Tonight should be a night all alone with Rod.

Did I mention I was married to a bishop?

Yup. He's busy tonight. And Clarissa comes home at noon Friday.