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February 2005

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

So today's visit to the doctor made me think about how blasé and nonchalant (two words that you don't get to use that often) I've been acting towards my health. Granted I've been trying to get in shape, and I've been going to the gym pretty regularly, but that can only take me so far.

I think part of the reason I'm not in a good mood today is because I've been eating like crap. I mean real junk food day in and day out. It got to the point today where I stood up in the waiting room and announced to two receptionists, a family in the corner and what I can only assume was a deaf lady that I had officially sworn off egg sandwiches in the morning.

I wonder how long I can go without having one. Sure they taste delicious and they're incredibly satisfying, but 15 minutes after I eat them I feel sick and lose all my energy.

So I'm officially breaking up with egg sandwiches. Here and now. Nothing to be blasé about.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

It was nice to get away last weekend, I took a few days and made a long-weekend-getaway to my homeland: Palm Beach County. Not that I grew up there, but I jokingly consider it my homeland because of the abundance of people like me. Well, the abundance of people who I'll be like is a better way of putting it. Give it 40-50 years and I will be the poster boy for Southern Florida.

The weather was fantastic, I got just the right dose of Vitamin D from the sunshine to keep my skin from turning a shade of pale that does nothing but signal to the world that I work too hard – (or to the medical world – that I take pills that make me sensitive to sun light). Sitting out in the sun – even with the right amount of skin protection – is slowly becoming something I need to make excuses for and create distractions, less I feel guilty that I'm doing it. My mother, my dermatologist and everyone else I know rolls their eyes at me when I say I don't like being pale. Whether it's the skin cancer or the medicine I take, there's always a good reason why I shouldn't be sitting out in the sun. I guess I'm young and dumb because I like sitting by the pool. Even if I am the only one who isn't old enough to remember World War II.

Going to Palm Beach Florida is not exactly a place one goes who is expecting to escape guilt. In fact I'm almost certain that is the capital of guilt. "Guilt City, USA: Palm Beach." Needless to say my blood didn't thin while I was there, and if it did it wasn't the weather that caused it. It was the Coumadin.

As my mother would say, it was a good dose of the "Three R's: Rest, Relaxation and Sleep." Got to love Mom.