I'm a juicer now!

After writing my last post, I focused my energy on my "Juice Reboot." Because I attended to that all week, I actually had a good week and didn't dwell horribly on my losses, and I felt like writing about something new.

Let me tell you about my Reboot.

In five days, I ingested the following:

• 33 apples
• 10 oranges
• 4-6 peaches
• 3+ cups of blueberries
• 10 lemons
• 26+ carrots
• 22 celery sticks
• 5 cucumbers (ugh)
• bunches and bunches of kale
• bunches and more bunches or other leafy green veggies
• bunches more of spinach
• 2 beets (ugh to it's highest degree)
• 1 head of romaine lettuce
• 3 sweet potatoes
• Some parsley, some basil, lots of ginger root
• Coconut water (which is only good with lime, to me)

I did not say I ate that much; I ingested it. I juiced it.

Here's why:

A couple of weeks ago, Jordie and I visited Amy, Marsha and Griffin in Denver. Amy and Marsha had been juicing, and I curiously asked her about it. I had no intention of doing this myself. Then, as Amy began to explain it to me, and the purpose of infusing all of those nutrients at once, my interest piqued.

While Marsha wants to lose weight and get healthier, Amy just wants to be healthier and make sure Griffin gets a healthier start on life. One other thing Amy said caught my vain attention, too.

"I didn't try to lose weight, but I lost a couple of pounds, and one thing I noticed is that layer of ... I don't know ... that ... ugh ... that had developed on my legs ... I don't know what it is ... went away."

I knew exactly what she was talking about!!!

I have discovered that the older I get, no matter how much I exercise, I can't get rid of that layer of "ugh."

We talked off and on about Joe Cross' juice diet and his supposedly amazing documentary, "Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead" throughout the weekend. (The two documentaries are incredibly amazing, both educationally and inspirationally. Both currently are on Netflix.)

By the time Monday rolled around for Jordie and me to go home, I knew I wanted to try it. Not to lose weight — I can tell you now if it were another scheme for losing weight, I could not stick with it. Not with my poor eating habits history, and not with my eating-disordered past.

This time, I became interested in my health. For at least 10 years or more, I have suffered from chronic pain. Mostly unidentifiable chronic pain. I've had a million plus diagnoses, ranging from chronic fatigue syndrome to being tested repeatedly for multiple sclerosis and lupus. I've had muscle and joint pain, migraines, stomach problems and fatigue during all of this time. (Stomach problems my whole life, actually.)

I had surgery to remove eight inches of dead colon for some unknown reason, and I have chronic pancreatitis, which is not a problem as long as I don't drink alcohol or eat peanut butter.

I take a ridiculous amount of prescription medications for migraines and restless leg syndrome, plus minor pain killers that only somewhat help.

I've always called myself a medical disaster.

I finally was diagnosed with fibromyalgia not that long ago. Makes sense. And there's not much anyone can do about it, other than manage symptoms as well as possible.

I had gotten to the point with my pain that I was praying for God to do something, anything, to relieve me of this pain. I was only 46 years old and too young to feel this old and be this debilitated by pain and fatigue. And if He didn't do something or give me some insight, then please don't let me live very long because I can no longer stand this pain!

A week later, Amy introduced me to Joe Cross' Juice Reboot. (God thing? I think so.)

I wondered whether getting and maintaining the right nutrients and minimizing my processed food intake would help lessen my pain and reduce the amount of medications I have to take.  (Is it rocket science?)

Sure enough, I got home, watched both documentaries and knew this is the answer. One woman on the second documentary told Joe Cross that after just a few months of juicing a couple of times a day, her pain was gone and she was off all of her medications. So many other people, including children, with chronic conditions were telling the same story.

BOOM!

I bought my juicer, and my journey began this past Monday. I'll tell you about my five-day Juice Reboot adventure (and the Great Beet Fiasco) in another post.

I am now to the juicing and eating part. We will see how this goes. I can tell you right now that after getting through the first days of processed food withdrawals, I have immediately begun to feel better ...

BOOM!


"The Reboot with Joe Juice Diet," by Joe Cross. "Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead, 1&2." (documentaries)

Until later

I have felt somewhat guilty for letting my blog just ... sit. I have nothing to say.

So I'll say this: 

I have been in a terrible state of grief since my parents died. It's true that after the dust settles and people get back to their lives, those of us closest to the death(s) must find a way to carry on alone. And I have discovered that as time has progressed, my grief has grown more powerful. My sister would tell you the same. Sadly, we have had little time to spend with each other now that she has returned to her life in Flower Mound. Summer travels have interfered, but hopefully, things will change when school starts.

The reality for both of us, though, is that my parents are not coming back. Not ever. That's an unbearable pill to swallow.  So that's an important thing about aging to know: Your parents will always be your parents, and you will always need them, no matter how old you get.

While I originally intended my blog to be about aging issues ... and caregiving for aging parents fits into that category ... the popularity of my blog (from January through May) came about because of my parents and the love their friends had for them.

Nothing can replace them, and I have no desire to write about anything else. What I have at the moment is my grief, the process of grieving and of settling an estate (with Kim). Dealing with their home is almost too much sometimes. 

And I have been somewhat frozen in a state of "now what" since my parents died. I seem to have no focus or purpose at this time. Just flights of ideas that pass as quickly as they excite me. 

So instead of writing to you about my pain — because I know so many of you have been there and relate, and I'm so grateful to you for sharing your experiences with me — I think it's time to pay my therapist to to hear me whine and cry. 

Until I get through this, I really don't have much to say. 

I guess I'll be back when the inspiration strikes. 

Thanks for your friendship.