Day 1 - Monday, November 11, 2013
Unusual day. I was scheduled for a Treadmill Myocardial Perfusion Stress Test; let me elaborate. I was hooked up to an IV, shot up with radioactive isotopes (yeah), made to wait 45 minutes, laid out on a bed that looked kind of like an MRI, 12 minutes for pictures to watch my little isotopes running around. Then head over to the treadmill where I had to keep my target heart rate up for six minutes (wheezing, panting, and wishing for Armageddon) they shoot you up with more isotopes while your moving and make you go one more minutes. Done, you go back to the waiting room (at this point I finally get my "breakfast"), I mix two packages of chocolate with water and coconut flavoring and a sprinkle of Stevia (ok, not bad). After another 45 minutes I head back to the table and get 12 more minutes of pictures. All done, remove IV, walk me to the door. Total time - 4 hours.
(sigh)
The rest of the day was filled with moments of "oh yeah you can't have that" and "wow, I'm really hungry, haven't felt that in while."
Tried mixing one of the chocolates in with my coffee, no...that was not a good idea. I drank it, I was hungry. Not the kind where you just want to eat hungry...but the kind of hungry that gets you in touch with your inner cave person. It hasn't got to the point where I've started hunting neutria in Capitol Lake, but--you never know. At 4:00pm I decided to go ahead and eat one of the potato soups. What a mis-nomer. There is nothing "potatoish" about it. It's bland white paste, which I added paprika, garlic power, dried chives, and finally...against all recommendation...1/4 of a tsp. of salt. It only really got better after the salt. Started to get antsy, while visions of burgers danced through my head, so, I went for a 30 minute walk through the neighborhood. It was all good until I got home and started craving something sweet. I feel empty. Not psychologically empty either. I may have to turn in early, just to keep myself on track.
Over all, day one success. And here was the little story my friend left me with for the day. Her mother had gone on the liquid diet also and to get through the day she would tell herself that all the other food on this strange foreign land was "poison" and that she could only eat the "astronaut food." It was just a mission and all missions have an end. Well Houston, this little astronaut accepts her mission. Time for the strawberry blended with ice, a little vanilla and Stevia.
Terminating contact with mission control.
(sigh)
The rest of the day was filled with moments of "oh yeah you can't have that" and "wow, I'm really hungry, haven't felt that in while."
Tried mixing one of the chocolates in with my coffee, no...that was not a good idea. I drank it, I was hungry. Not the kind where you just want to eat hungry...but the kind of hungry that gets you in touch with your inner cave person. It hasn't got to the point where I've started hunting neutria in Capitol Lake, but--you never know. At 4:00pm I decided to go ahead and eat one of the potato soups. What a mis-nomer. There is nothing "potatoish" about it. It's bland white paste, which I added paprika, garlic power, dried chives, and finally...against all recommendation...1/4 of a tsp. of salt. It only really got better after the salt. Started to get antsy, while visions of burgers danced through my head, so, I went for a 30 minute walk through the neighborhood. It was all good until I got home and started craving something sweet. I feel empty. Not psychologically empty either. I may have to turn in early, just to keep myself on track.
Over all, day one success. And here was the little story my friend left me with for the day. Her mother had gone on the liquid diet also and to get through the day she would tell herself that all the other food on this strange foreign land was "poison" and that she could only eat the "astronaut food." It was just a mission and all missions have an end. Well Houston, this little astronaut accepts her mission. Time for the strawberry blended with ice, a little vanilla and Stevia.
Terminating contact with mission control.
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