Tom’s day for tests…

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Most often I write the post for this blog every other morning.  This morning, as typical for medical procedures, we must be out the door before 8 am.  Tom is having both his colonoscopy and endoscopy, the final medical tests before we leave the US, four weeks from today.

Yesterday, was “clear liquids only” day.  He amazed me how well he did without a single complaint about hunger.  Since we’ve been on our low carb, gluten-free diet, either of us is seldom hungry, certainly never ravenous. It’s ironic how, when you feed your body what it needs, whole nutritious food, it sends out a few hunger signals.

Recently, we decided to stop eating based on the clock. Could we get our appetites in sync eating whenever we felt hungry as opposed to the time of day? Did the caveman watch a clock and go out and kill his meal in time for lunch or dinner? 

Hardly.  Most likely he hunted and gathered food for himself and his family, preparing it quickly to prevent spoilage which they consumed until stuffed, perhaps not eating again for another day or two.  Maybe we are meant to eat the same way to a degree. 

It’s not so much about hunting for our food in this modern world, but gathering our ingredients to create a healthful, nourishing and delicious meal to be fully enjoyed, eating again only when we’re hungry.  Both Tom and I love this concept.  Over the past several weeks, we’ve had dinner at varying times, huge breakfasts, and no dinner later that day, and now, for the first time, no real food all day.

So, yesterday, when “my hunter” was unable to hunt, I decided that I too would follow along and consume only simple liquids.  In this temporary home, smaller than that which we are used to,  there would be no place for me to eat without him smelling and seeing the food.  His gentle soul encouraged me to have whatever I wanted and he’d be fine. Instead, I decided to join him in this one day fast.

I considered making myself liver and onions, which he dislikes, but figured the smell might be intolerable on an empty stomach.  Instead, we ate a few sugar-free Popsicles, chicken bouillon, sugar-free Jello that I’d made the night before and plenty of iced tea and purified water.  We made it through the evening, hardly giving it a second thought as the day wore on.

At 5 PM he drank the first of two 6 ounce bottles of the prescribed SUPREP (with a ridiculous retail price of $75.  We paid a $25 co-pay) mixed with 10 ounces of water and the same again this morning at 5 AM, each time followed by an entire quart of water within an hour. 

He managed to chug down the 16 ounces of nasty tasting liquid along with the required quart of within an hour.  Nonetheless, it worked. Surprisingly, he slept through the night to be awakened by my cell phone alarm clock going off at 5 AM.  After the same drinking process again this morning, the results continued. All in all, the prep was relatively easy. 

If you have hesitated to have a colonoscopy due to fear of the prep, please reconsider.  A day at home watching mindless TV, lots of liquids, a few minutes of chugging a foul-tasting drink, multiple trips to the loo, and the first phase is over.
 
So, this morning we’re preparing to go out the door for the appointment soon for the second phase.  We’ll be reporting back here later today with what we hope and pray will be great results…that all is well and we may proceed with our plans to travel the world for as long as we want, as long as our health holds out until we get tired until we are sick of our bags or until we find a place along the way, that we mutually agree is truly where we’ll call “home.”  One never knows.

11:15 AM – We’re back from Tom’s test.  His signs of Barrett’s esophagus are gone!  He has no polyps!  The visible signs of irritable bowel are gone!  Dr. Larry Pass, here in Scottsdale, tells Tom to keep “doing what you’ve been doing!”  Our healthy diet has paid off in only 16 months. 

We hoped for this good result since Tom’s acid reflux disappeared within 30 days on this way of eating:  low carb, grain-free, wheat-free, starch-free, and sugar-free (no corn, no rice, no beans, no grains of any type). Plus, he’s lost 50 pounds of belly fat since August 2011!

We’re free to breathe easy knowing we can continue with our plans to travel the world. We are grateful.  We are relieved.  Perhaps, now, we can begin to allow ourselves the privilege of getting excited without trepidation and without hesitation. 

Now I must jump over to Dr. William Davis’s blog and thank him for the great inspiration he offered us when we read his book, Wheat Belly so many months ago.  Thank you, Dr. Davis!

Tom’s medical prep before traveling…

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Years ago, when our kitchen was being remodeled and we had literally no kitchen for six months, Tom began to suffer from a variety of severe intestinal symptoms.  He rapidly lost weight, running back and forth to the bathroom dozens of times each day and night.

One may assume that this was due to the fact we were eating fast food, processed food, or pre-made food products while our kitchen was being remodeled.  It was not. 

During this time, around 2004 our dining room table became our food prep area with various George Foreman grills, an electric skillet, an electric griddle, a toaster oven, two microwave ovens, cutting boards, seasonings, plates, and silverware, which we washed in the bathtub (we don’t like paper plates). 

During this period, we ate that which we perceived, at the time as “normal” meals; a protein, a vegetable or two, a starch, and a salad.  It was winter.  On warmer days, above 30 degrees, we cooked on the outdoor grill.  These were the same type of meals most of us prepare when cooking at home.  Why was he getting so sick?

When the symptoms exacerbated over time, months after the kitchen was done, we made an appointment to go to the Mayo Clinic for a week while poor Tom experienced every gastrointestinal test known to man, many gruesome, uncomfortable and embarrassing.  He didn’t eat a morsel of food for five days.

Diagnosis:  irritable bowel syndrome, commonly referred to as IBS, treatable (they said) by avoiding cruciferous vegetables, too much or too little fiber (which is it?), and medication to calm the digestive track taken three times a day.  Also, he was told he had Barrett’s Esophagus, which required the proton pump inhibitors, now being touted by some researchers as causing serious side effects.

Following this treatment was relatively easy with Tom’s little interest in cruciferous vegetables, general aversion to fiber laden foods, and desire to eat “white” bread, potatoes, and doughnuts.  I must confess, in a desire to please him, I cooked and baked his favorite foods while he faithfully took the medication.  The symptoms continued relentlessly. 

Our lives revolved around pacing our activities in order to be close to a bathroom or, by his not eating at all.  No food.  No symptoms. It was frustrating for him and for me, the official cook in the household, feeling responsible for feeding him foods that caused him severe illness. Its treatment wasn’t so clear cut at the time since we were following a recommendation made by the medical profession.  Could they possibly ill advise us?

After hours of researching online data, the advice was always the same; low fiber, medications, low stress, lots of water, all of which he followed meticulously. 

In 2008, four years since the onset of his symptoms, I stumbled across some information on Celiac disease.  Many of the symptoms suffered by patients with Celiac had symptoms similar to Tom’s.  What did we have to lose to try?  Much to my amazement, Tom agreed to go totally gluten-free for a one month trial.

Filling our cupboards with gluten-free mixes for desserts, coffee cake, doughnuts, and pasta, we began the process of living a gluten-free lifestyle.  I avoided many of these products since they were often filled with high fructose corn syrup and other sugars, which I had “given up” many years ago.  Tom gained weight, eating these high carb sugary foods.

Most of these treats were palatable and he didn’t complain.  Over a period of about three weeks, his symptom improved by about 75%.  We were satisfied with this result and continued along this path for a few years.  With few symptoms of his condition, he gradually incorporated gluten back into his diet. 

Surprisingly, his symptoms didn’t revert to the state they’d been a few years back.  Apparently, without gluten for a while, his intestinal tract healed to a degree and although he wasn’t symptom-free, it was manageable.  He was willing to suffer some problems in order to eat an occasional coffee cake and doughnut.

His weight ballooned to almost 240 pounds, all in the belly.  At barely six feet tall, he was rotund.  My guy, rotund.  During this period of time, the news was filled with stories on the dangers of visceral fat (fat surrounding the internal organs) causing heart disease, cancer, diabetes, and of course, digestive disorders. 

Tom shrugged off the risks, relying upon the longevity in his family while refusing to try any type of diet including gluten-free.

In August 2011, after years of severe full-body pain (which I wrote about in a prior post), I decided to try an anti-inflammation diet when a specialist explained that I’d require a total spinal fusion at some point as my spine continued to deteriorate.  It was August 2011. 

Tom attended my doctor’s appointment with me, for the first time seeing the degree of damage to every disc in my spine on the multiple MRIs from C1 to L5 hearing the doctor extol the virtues of a low inflammation diet. 

However, he suggested going one further step to enhance the possibility of extraordinary results; low carb (keeps blood sugar under control, thus reducing inflammation, according to many researchers at Harvard) no wheat, no grains of any type (no rice), no starch (no corn, no beans), no sugar (no fruit), no chemicals, high-quality grass-fed meat, free-range chickens, limit dairy to butter and hard cheeses, organic produce (when possible).

Miraculously, Tom agreed to follow along with me. He had read an article in the newspaper about the rapid increase in the incidence of Celiac disease over the past 60 years.  Here’s the link to the article that influenced him in going along on this path with me.

We eat eggs and nitrate-free bacon for breakfast, grass-fed meat, organic vegetables, and salad with homemade dressing for dinner every night.  We nibble on nuts and hard cheese and an occasional sweet treat made with Stevia sweetener. 

Now 18 months later, Tom has lost 44 pounds, has NO symptoms of IBS, has quit smoking, has stopped taking seven pills per day, and had stunning blood test results (better than ever) a month before we left Minnesota, as I have done as well. 

I am pain-free (except for that darned shoulder!).  Already slim, I didn’t lose weight during this period.  Nature has a funny way of taking care of its own when we respect the body, feeding it nourishing clean food.

So, this is why we eat the way we do, which we’ve mentioned here before.  Yes, cruises will be hard, especially the “sweets” tables.  However, we would not be able to go on this adventure if we hadn’t followed this way of eating.  Tom was too bulky to haul that luggage.  I was in too much pain to go anywhere, let alone around the world.

Upon the recommendation of our Minnesota physician, amazed at our results, Tom is having a final endoscopy and a colonoscopy next week after having seen a local gastroenterologist yesterday, here in Scottsdale.  He too was amazed by his improvement.  He explained an important point.  One may not have Celiac disease (which Tom will be further tested for next week) and yet be sensitive to gluten. 

A few years ago, he had a DNA test for Celiac Disease, which stated “he had a likelihood of Celiac disease” but was not conclusive. We’ll apprise you of his result after the tests are completed next week.  The only conclusive test is a biopsy of the small intestine, which he will have.

For those of you yet to have a colonoscopy, please follow along with us. (You can sign up to receive an email when we prepare a new post by entering your email on the right side of our site.  You will not be further solicited). 

You may discover that this life-saving test is not painful, difficult, or embarrassing.  The only sacrifice is one day of a clear liquid-only diet and the drive to and from the facility.  IV medication makes this pain free leaving you with little or no memory of the test itself.  You are completely covered up during the procedure. 

I had put it off having this test myself, for almost 10 years, only to be pleasantly surprised at how relatively easy it was.  This will be Tom’s third procedure, required more frequently due to his past bowel issues.

Please understand, we are in no manner, trying to prescribe, diagnose, or claim to have any medical knowledge or experience other than that of the average layperson.  We simply want to share our experience with you, as we will as we travel the world.

Next week, we’ll post the results of Tom drinking the two little bottles of the prescribed,  SUPREP BOWEL PREP KIT, drinking one small bottle at 5 PM, the night before the procedure, and then again at 5:00 AM, the morning of the procedure. 

Once these two tests are completed and, providing the result is good which we expect, Tom will have no further testing until we eventually return to the US. Of course, if he has any new symptoms, we will do so wherever we may be.

His tests are next Thursday morning, December 6th.  We will begin a “blow by blow” description on Wednesday, his prep day, and he what eats and drinks, and his reaction to the two little bottles. Perhaps, not suitable for the squeamish.

Happy retirement party day, Tom…Sick or not, I’m in!…

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Last night at 8:45 Tom took me to urgent care.  My voice gone, gut wrenching coughs overtaking me, it was time to address this three week old flu.  

An hour later with prescriptions for Z-Pack and codeine cough medicine in hand, we left the all night pharmacy to return to Karen’s home and some much needed sleep. 

It was a fitful night, tossing, turning, dreaming and coughing.  Trying not to take the cough medicine before bed, like a fool, at 4 am I had no choice with the coughing continually awakening us.  The pharmacist had stressed, “Do not take more than one teaspoon.  Its a new formulation and could be dangerous.”  

“Good grief,” I thought, “Why give me such a dangerous drug?” With only a peculiar looking plastic measuring device that came with the red syrup I struggled to measure out one teaspoon.  My contacts were out.  I couldn’t see. With the intent of erring on the safe side, I poured what may have been a mere 1/2 teaspoon.  

In a matter of minutes I conked out to awaken at 8:15 this morning, head a little less foggy, voice somewhat “hear-able” and the coughing cut in half.  Who says antibiotics don’t work for a virus?  Although still sick, I now can manage to hostess Tom’s retirement party with a renewed expectation that I can make it through the busy day and night.

We invited less than 100 people but with the help of a co-worker and friend of Tom’s, Jer-Bear who enthusiastically invited many more, we could have a substantial turnout. After forty two years on the railroad, Tom with his outgoing and friendly demeanor could certainly warrant a reasonable turnout.  Thanks Jer-Bear.  

The last day of our estate sale is going on as we speak.  They’ve already called me twice asking for our “lowest price” on a few of the bigger items. Hopefully, they’ve been sold.  

Worried as to how much will sell, we are discussing plans for the “leftovers.” We must decide by Monday morning when the estate sale people return to donate, to dumpster and to clean the entire house (for an extra fee, of course).  

This is an angst ridden process: selling everything one owns and then disposing of many of those items that one considered to be treasures.  It not only hurts the pocket but, also the soul.  

We all want to believe that we have impeccable taste and yet, we all want to be unique.  That, my friends, is an oxymoron.  Uniqueness dictates that only certain people will find that which we have as “purchase worthy.”  Others will thumb their noses with their distaste.  So it goes in Life, yin and yang.

Tom’s SUV loaded with party supplies, soon I’ll leave to pick up Camille, my daughter-in-law who has been my loyal and official helper through thick and thin during this entire moving process.  She and I will pick up the food for the party, the cake (I’ll post a photo of the amazing cake next time I write), drive the long haul to the VFW party hall in Coon Rapids, Minnesota to set everything up for arriving guests at 5 PM. 

Tom will drive himself in Camille’s SUV to the party and then I will drive us both home in Tom’s SUV at the end of the evening, designated driver that I am with a relatively inebriated and outrageously humorous passenger in tow.  

As we move into the next phase toward Tom’s retirement date and, our departure date of October 31, 2012, I’m filled with sorrow, anticipation and elation all at once.  

The goodbyes beginning tonight, continuing over the next four days, will surely be the most difficult part of this many month’s long process of planning to travel the world over the next five to ten years, as vagabonds, gypsies, and adventurers. 

Not too bad for two typical Minnesota home bodies, having lived a joyful life of routine and familiarity, who’s world will soon be upside down. 

Burrowing in…

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Tom is still sleeping.  The sun has yet to come up.  I sit in my comfy chair in its original spot surrounded by all of our belongings neatly stacked on tables, arranged on shelves, or placed in new locations, all priced to sell. 

This will be the last time I sit in this chair writing this blog. When I write again on Monday it will be from Karen’s home in a spot I will choose as close to this familiarity as possible. Ah, creatures of habit, we are!  

Perhaps, it is time for me to welcome change. When our precious little Australian Terrier Willie was alive (he went to Doggie Heaven in April 2011), on occasion I took him along to visit friends.  Invariably, he’d find a spot in the corner of their sofa and burrow himself in, wildly throwing himself around in circles as he would at home, burrowing in until he managed the perfect spot. Will that be me?  Burrowing in?

Is it better to let go of the familiar when one makes a radical life change, such as we?  In my logical brain, I perceive that letting go of the familiar will bring personal growth and discovery.  In my emotional heart, I reach for the cocoons where I’ve found solace and comfort.

Yesterday, my dear daughter-in-law Camille showed up once again to help. Alone in the early morning, the estate sale people done with their pricing, I had tentatively faced the cleaning and washing of our three refrigerators, one giant freezer and emptying all the kitchen cabinets filled with food and spices.

My shoulder, still painful and cracking with a SLAP injury and bicep tendon tear made these tasks painful and daunting. Camille did it all as I stood beside her coaching while we laughed, reminisced and held back the tears. I will miss her.

During the day, friends and neighbors stopped in to see our normally impeccable home, as an impossible array of stuff for sale; once warm and inviting, now cold and austere.  Lots of hugs.  The time is near to say goodbye.

We’re still planning on moving out tomorrow before the Vikings Game at noon. Its hard to cook. The stove and all the counter tops are covered and overloaded with kitchen items for sale with nary a place to make my cup of tea, let alone a full meal.  

Tom suggested we cook the remaining homemade low carb, gluten free frozen pizza, one of very few items left in the freezer. It will serve us well tonight and Sunday night as we continue to gather our belongings to take to Karen’s.

At 4:30, I seasoned a boneless pork roast with my few remaining spices, placing it into the oven while still frozen.  Humm…I thought, where’s the meat thermometer?  I always use a meat thermometer.  Oh well, I’ll wing it, I guess.  

At 6:00 PM, Camille gone after a hard day’s work (thank you, my darling who is so there for me, for us), Tom and I walked down the road to say goodbye to our friend Sue who’s leaving at 5:00 am this morning to go back to “their” home in Florida for the winter, for the first time without Chip, her beloved husband and our friend, who sadly passed away at the end of May.  We’ll miss her too.  

We hugged goodbye.  I held her tight, feeling the lump in my throat, the tears welling in my eyes but she, so wounded from sorrow and tears these past months, refused to succumb, gently pushing me back, insisting “We’ll see each other soon.  This is not goodbye.” Tom and I walked silently down the road home, holding hands.

We walked in the door to the smell of the pork roast cooking in the oven, smelling good, so familiar.  I opened a can of Tom’s favorite green beans (oddly, he prefers canned to fresh), made a salad with little room to prepare and sliced the roast. It was done.  No thermometer.  Yes, maybe I can improvise.

We turned on the plasma TV in the kitchen to watch a show we’ve always recorded on the DVR to enjoy during dinner, Shark Tank.  We laughed, we talked. we cleaned our plates  The food tasted good.  Placing our dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I reminded myself to put price tags on them when they’re clean and place them with the other piles of Fiestaware, service for 24, in four different colors.  Goodbye, Fiestaware.  You’ve served us well.

Tom, now awake, showered and dressed, loaded up the car with a portion of our luggage plus food, wine and booze to leave with Karen.  Tomorrow, we’ll bring over the rest.

Soon we’ll join son Greg, Camille and those three little angels, 5, 4, and 3 for breakfast at IHOP in Eden Prairie after which we’ll head to Costco to order food and supplies for next Saturday’s party for Tom. Then, off to Karen’s to unload the car and back here for what we’ve decided will be our final night in our house.

Tonight, after another busy day of work we’ll fall into our ultra comfy Grand King Sleep Number bed, burrowing in, perhaps without “wildly throwing ourselves around in circles” for the very last time.

Feeling better, not perfect…

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Last Saturday night, we attended a 50th birthday party for Tom’s nephew. Tom drank. I drove as usual, which proved to be an hour’s drive each way. 

On the way home, my lively and animated passenger kept me entertained   With his usual jokes, backseat driving and directions, in this case leaving me much better off on my own resources, stone sober that I was.  His ongoing enthusiastic suggestions would surely would have taken us to a dead end road to oblivion.   

Tom seldom drinks.  Tom seldom drinks enough to get noticeably drunk and never has a hangover.  Tom is never sloppy or obnoxious.  He’s funny, very funny. As a result, I gladly drive when he wants to imbibe on those special occasions a few times each year.

Arriving home, he flopped into bed, snoring softly only minutes later. I poured a glass of ice water to leave on his bedside table, just in case he awoke thirsty during the night, along with the two Tylenol tablets. Just in case. 

Sipping iced tea all night, I struggled to fall asleep, finally relenting by taking two Formula 303 tablets, an all natural homeopathic remedy that works wonders getting me to sleep, not necessarily keeping me asleep. (It’s safe to take two more if necessary, that works as well the second time).  

Two hours after drifting off, I awakened to the gut-wrenching sound of gut-ripping coughing and relentless sniffing.  Darn!  He’s got a cold!  How will I ever fall sleep with all of this noise, light sleeper that I am?

Awakened no less than 20 times during the night to these “noises,” in the morning I felt as if I was the one with a hangover, struggling to drag myself out of bed and begin the day.  How can he be sick now, when we have so much to do?  

With his long work hours, he had little time or energy lately to get “his stuff” sorted and packed, mostly tools and memorabilia to give to the kids and grandchildren.  Trying not to nag (not my style) I gently reminded him over the past few weeks that time was marching on.  

Let’s face it, I tend to “over-prepare” well in advance and Tom, bless his heart, is somewhat of a procrastinator. We accept these differences in one another knowing full well, that when it’s time to go, we both will be ready.

As sick as he was all weekend, somehow he managed to work on his piles of papers, attack his boxes filled to the brim, and help me complete the packing and weighing of his luggage, mine done months ago.  

The weekend nights were sleepless for me with his coughing, choking and snorting while he remained relatively unconscious from the big dose of Nyquil PM.  Monday morning he dragged himself to work while I remained at home, minus a car to drive, preparing to get back to packing and sorting.  

On Monday night it hit me, first a little tickle in my throat, a peculiar little cough and a feeling of general malaise. As the sickness left him, it gathered deeply into my head, leaving me useless to perform even the smallest tasks.

In years past, this degree of discomfort would have driven me to go to urgent care for cough medicine, antihistamines and antibiotics.  Not so the case. Practice, practice, practice, I told myself. Practice getting through this illness without a doctor visit, toughing it out, drinking hot tea, eating light, healthy meals, moving about to avoid muscle loss and weakness.  

Last night around 3:00 am, I relented and took a half dose of the Nyquil PM when the coughing wouldn’t stop. Without my contacts in, I couldn’t read the label.  I searched my night table drawer, now nearly empty from cleaning and packing, for an old pair of reading specs.  What I read shocked me! 

Oh, no!  I had just downed high fructose corn syrup!  Is anything free of junk these days? I slugged down the second half of the dose. Tonight, sleep, sweet sleep was more therapeutic and meaningful that my desire to avoid HFCS.  I slept until 7:30 am, feeling better, not perfect, but better.

A wasted number of days with little accomplished, I resigned myself to the reality that when we travel the world, on occasion we’ll be sick, we’ll be tired and we won’t accomplish anything.  

However, while sick this week, Tom (never missing any work) and I both applied for Railroad Retirement. I researched less costly health insurance plans outside the US, finding a  more affordable option (we’ll write more about this later). I contacted social security about my Medicare options, packed several boxes, did more laundry, cooked a fresh dinner each night, made the bed each morning, talked to the pharmacy about purchasing our year’s worth of drugs out of our pocket (sans insurance) at month’s end and on and on.

I can’t wait until we’re gone to be able to spend some time doing nothing. How peculiar that will be. I’ve never “done nothing.”

Today, we’re both feeling better, not perfect, but better.

Last visit with Nurse Marsha…Ouch!

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Never in my entire life have I walked into a medical clinic and felt so welcomed. Only minutes after I checked in, Nurse Marsha, head travel clinic nurse at Park Nicollet Travel Clinic, warmly greeted me, telling me how enthused she was to see me on her schedule for my last round of injections.

She knew how anxious I had been about possible side effects through this entire process, having had a few frightening immunizations in the long ago past. My fears were worsened after many hours of relentless online research looking for all the reasons why one should not be subject to such an obvious health risk.

My greatest fear was the yellow fever vaccine, well known for disastrous outcomes in a small fraction of the recipients. Alas, we survived. Tom was a little queasy and flu-like for one day and for me, I lapsed into bed midday for four hours of  uncomfortable thrashing about, to fully recover in time to cook a lovely dinner.  The worst was over.

Nurse Marsha was delightful, bubbly, and concerned for us, for our safety and for our joy. Lively and animated banter ensued between us as my heart grew full with her charm and interest.  For the first time in this process, I freed myself from the monumental tasks at hand, allowing a wave of excitement to wash over me, which I had held at bay all this time, fearful of losing focus.

Upon leaving I handed her our card for this blog, which she enthusiastically accepted, promising to follow along with us. Perhaps, knowing the vital role she played in our health as we travel the world over the next several years. Thank you, dear Nurse Marsha. Thank you for easing us along the way.

Yesterday’s injections:  the final booster of three Twinrix injections, for Hepatitis A and B, (ow, ow, ow!  Painful!), the latest flu vaccine (nothing to it) and the take home Typhoid Live Vaccine.   (Apparently, there is now a shortage of the Typhoid vaccine, which wasn’t the case only a few weeks ago when Tom received it).  

Over a period of eight days, I must swallow one of four live Typhoid vaccine tablets (now safely residing in our refrigerator) every other night at bedtime with a full glass of lukewarm water.  Nurse Marsha explained the importance of taking this pill at night on an empty stomach to reduce the risk of stomach distress as opposed to the morning when one’s stomach would be more empty after a night’s sleep. 

Of course, I complied. At 10 pm last night I poured myself a huge glass of tepid water and chugged the pill. Nothing happened. Good. I went to bed anticipating awakening during the night for a trip to the loo. Well, lately I’ve been waking up at 3:00 am anyway, after a run of convoluted dreams of hotels and other people’s homes, my mind racing with the upcoming tasks of the day.

Oddly, I slept through the night to awaken at my usual 5:30 am, ready to tackle the day, happy to feel well, happy to have slept through the night.

My vaccines are almost over, with three more Typhoid pills to take over the next six nights.  Tom must have his final Twinrix booster after his final waiting period ends November 22, 2012.  Son, Richard gave us the name of his doctor in Henderson, Nevada.  We’ll arrange the appointment soon for one of the few times we’ll be in Nevada in November and December.  

After about 15 injections, my share of needless worry, multiple trips to see Nurse Marsha with only a few hours of discomfort, we’re appreciative of the manner in which she eased the way, by that which she taught us about food and water safety when traveling abroad and most of all, enriched by simply knowing her.

Today will be another busy day; off to the office supply store for an ink cartridge for the printer (ran out of ink with documents to print before we go) and to buy a portable keyboard for my laptop. (We’re buying new lightweight laptops while in Scottsdale after Window 8 releases). In the past few days, the case broke and now the keyboard requires Herculean effort to press a key.  Not surprising, huh?

First aid in the world…

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Soon it will be too late to order any further supplies for our journey.  Many items (always new, unopened and unused) come from all over the world often requiring four to six weeks delivery time.  

As of this coming upcoming Wednesday, we’ll leave Minnesota on Halloween, in exactly six weeks. We won’t be able to conveniently receive packages after we leave. (More on receiving mail next month).

As a result of these time constraints, my thoughts went into full gear, reviewing every item we are packing in addition to our completed wardrobes, to analyze if there are any items we may need.

A month ago while cleaning cupboards and drawers, I started gathering first aid items, creating a homemade “kit” placing everything in a sturdy plastic bag: Band-aids, sterile pads and gauze, antibiotic cream, hydrogen peroxide, liquid bandage, ace bandage, knee supporter, shoulder sling, temporary ice packs and a heating pad.  

Let’s face it, those of us folks over 60 may have aches and pains from time to time. Adding some Aleve, Tylenol, and Motrin to our kit made it feel complete.  

The first aid kit securely packed in an orange Antler bag, (we paid $111 each a few months ago. Note price increase), I felt confident that any additional items we may need most likely could be purchased at any nearby grocery store or pharmacy.  

Why bring all of these items when we could purchase them in any country? Simply for economic reasons. While living in the 17th century renovated farmhouse in Tuscany all next summer we’ll be renting a car from time to time.  
Daily, we’ll walk to the open market for items for dinner, a bouquet of flowers or a bottle of wine. Perhaps once a week, we’ll rent a car for a day or two to drive the five miles to a grocery store, take a drive to explore the area and dine at a recommended restaurant.  

Upon returning the rental car, we’ll travel on foot until the next week, perhaps going on a local daily four mile walking tour of historical homes and buildings.

Cooking dinner with the farm fresh ingredients, let’s say I cut my finger, not requiring stitches, a common occurrence in our kitchen. The first aid kit prevents the cost of a cab, the inflated price at the pharmacy for supplies and, peace of mind.  

The achy knee, the pinched shoulder, so familiar in our day-to-day lives, are easily treated at home with our own supplies and over-the-counter products.  

With one third of our time on cruises during the first five months, these items may come in handy.  Have you ever seen a final bill on a cruise after a trip to the medical clinic for a minor injury?  A cut finger, antibiotic cream and a bandage  from a visit with the nurse or doctor, may result in a $300 bill. That’s one expensive Band-aid!

Over the past month additional thoughts for preparedness of the kit kept popping into my mind eventually driving me back to Amazon.com.  

Here are the items we added to the kit. (Amazon prevents easy “copy and paste” features of their items.  Please excuse the formatting).

Recapit No Mix Cement, Maximum Strength, 1 g.
Imagine the benefit of having this product hand when hesitant to see a dentist in a remote area!

Dental Tarter Scraper and Remover Set, SS

by Osung

4.9 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (14 customer reviews) | Like(9)
Price: $43.95
Sale: $31.95
You Save: $12.00 (27%)
Dental Tarter Scraper and Remover Set, SS
With the help of an online training program
we’ll learn how to perform basis teeth cleaning procedures until our next dental appointment.
 

 

Recapit No Mix Cement, Maximum Strength, 1 g.

by Recapit
3.1 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (14 customer reviews) | Like
(1)

 

Price: $4.65 ($2.91 / oz)
3M Steri Strip Skin Closures 1/4'' X 3'' - 10 Packages of 3
Imagine the benefit of having this product on hand
when cut is deep but not requiring stitches.


3M Steri Strip Skin Closures 1/4” X 3” – 10 Packages of 3 By STERI
4.8 out of 5 stars See all reviews (33 customer reviews) | Like
(23)


Price: $6.75
 

Certainly, most doctors or dentists would cringe at our planned self-treatment.  We understand the risks.  Our goal will always be to put safety first, never taking outrageous risks with our lives of limbs.

Part of the magic of our adventure is to go where we want to go, that is safe for travelers; when we want to go, within the confines of our rental agreements and transportation schedules; continue on as long as we mutually desire, and for as long as our health allows.

Freedom…with certain reasonable constraints.  Nonetheless…freedom. 

Aboard ship for 59 days in the first 5 months…

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On January 3, 2013 we’ll leave the US to embark on our first cruise. Over the next five months we’ll experience a total of seven cruises totaling 59 days at sea. Later, we’ll post more details about these upcoming cruises and house rentals.

First 5 months after leaving the US:

Cruises                                  #Days          Start Date        End Date
San Diego to Panama to Miami    15              01/03/13        01/18/13
Fort Lauderdale to Belize Cruise    8              01/21/13        01/29/13
Belize to Miami Cruise                  3              04/09/13        04/13/13
Miami to the Caribbean                7               04/13/13       04/20/13
Miami to Barcelona                     11              04/20/13        05/01/13
Barcelona to Mallorca                   3               05/01/13       05/04/13
Barcelona to Venice                    12              06/04/13        06/16/13
Total cruise days                        59
Homes included in above dates:
Placencia, Belize                         60              01/29/13         03/29/13
Ambergris Caye, Belize                 9               03/29/13        04/09/13
Majorca, Spain                           30               05/04/13        06/04/13We’ll spend November and December, 2012 living in a lovely first floor condo overlooking the pool in Scottsdale Arizona, a commitment we’d made long before we decided to travel the world. That commitment created extra expense and inconvenience but we chose to honor our agreement.
We’ve decided to utilize these two months in Scottsdale to purchase and set up our new laptops (awaiting Windows 8 release soon), our new unlocked smart phones (being released into the market in November) and other technological devices that we’ll describe later upon purchase.

To take advantage of these two months we’ll prepare as much as we can of our 2012 taxes, forwarding everything to our accountant in Minnesota. We’ll get new passport photos taken (outdated after six months), apply for our second passports and visas, download 100 or more movies onto our portable external hard drive and get Tom’s new eyeglasses at Costco (great deal).

With the condo only 25 minutes from the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, we’ve decided to follow our doctor’s orders and arrange appointment for Tom in gastroenterology for one last check (as recommended every few years) when one has IBS and Celiac Disease. Although he is symptom free due to our diet these two tests can confirm provide us with peace of mind; a colonoscopy and an endoscopy.

Tom’s sisters spend the winters in Arizona, about an hour’s drive and we’ll visit them. In the first half of November we’ll drive to Nevada to establish residency, apply for NV driver’s licenses and visit family, later to spend eight days at Christmas in a house we’ve rented in Henderson to be close to family and friends for one last time.

We’ll celebrate Thanksgiving in Arizona. In Nevada, on December 20th we’ll have our teeth cleaned. We’ll observe the Mayan Calendar’s End of Time on December 21st (hopefully, not really the end!), Tom’s 60th birthday on December 23rd, and of course, Christmas, away from “home,” the first time as true vagabonds.

A year ago, we would have laughed aloud at the thought of leaving behind everyone we love and everything we own, except for a gaggle of suitcases and hearts full of memories. 

Here we are, packed to the gills, totes filled with memorabilia currently scattered about the house for our kids to store for us. Our paperwork and photos are scanned, our documents and spreadsheets bursting with pertinent data stored in Dropbox for safekeeping, accessible from anywhere in the world.

Yesterday I spent an entire hour scanning a lengthy booklet from our well known national bank on wire transfer procedures, accounts which we’ve set up in both of our names. I inquired as to whether this booklet was online to be downloaded. “No, not yet,” they say. “Gee…kind of behind the times,” I thought.

It’s this little tasks that fill up substantial portions of my everyday. As I sit here in my comfy chair, writing this today, I tapped my Android smart phone (on its last days) to take yet another peek at the handy app on my home screen, Retirement Countdown Free and today, it reads: “1 Month 18 Days.”

One month and eighteen days from today we close the door to our home one last time. We leave behind our loved ones, the lives that we’ve known, our three little dogs buried in the yard, the friends on the peninsula, the eagle swooping in the trees in the summer, the coyotes hovering hungrily in the winter and the gentle fluttering call of the loons.

On a lighter note, we joyfully leave behind six foot snow drifts often trapping us for days and, mountains of goose poop. Yes, mountains of goose poop!

Our final doctor appointments…

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With a degree of angst we headed out yesterday afternoon with empty stomachs in preparation for blood tests to our last doctor appointments, Tom’s and mine scheduled together for a full hour.  I imagine that most people don’t enjoy going to the doctor, but for me it is a dreaded experience.

Doctor, dentist, Ob-Gyn and optometrist all fall into the same category. I don’t like it, don’t want it, don’t want to take my clothes off, don’t want anyone looking in my mouth or other such places and don’t want to stand on that disgusting scale. No, no, no!

We had to go. Yes, I know, it would be our last appointment for a long while (hopefully). Obviously, I have some type of “issues” around this, a mixed bag of good and bad.  That which makes me diligent, impatient, goal orientated and downright persistent adds to my ability to spend endless hours planning our year’s long world adventure. 

On the flip side, it makes me feel “out of control” to have a stranger poking and prodding at me, obviously looking for something wrong as opposed to something right.  Perhaps everyone feels the same way.  Perhaps the only difference is that I am more vocal about it.

So, off we went to our long time physician Dr. Dennis Showalter of Park Nicollet, a youngish (40″), kind, physically fit and smart man, for our final appointments (except for one more travel clinic appointment for each of us, Tom’s later this week, mine in early October).

Greeted with, “Do you have your insurance card and ID?” as opposed to  a cheerful “hello” never ceases to amaze me. I suppose the job of doctor office assistant is demanding, wrought with frustration.  Answering the endless array of the same questions over and over, accompanied by grumpy comments from ill patients (who also don’t want to be there), pushes them over the edge. 

When calling for an appointment they grumble their name immediately asking, “What’s your name and date of birth?”  I cringe while giving them my age, something I am otherwise not ashamed of, having posted it many times in this blog.  I literally cringe.  Knowing their job is thankless, I go overboard with kindness and thoughtfulness, complying with their every wish.

I refused to go on the scale.  Tom was standing right there, edging me on.  I have weighed myself in front of him at home.  I’m skinny, but still, as a woman, I have the same insecurity about “the number.” 

Tom jumps on the scale with an enthusiastic bounce.  I remind him to take off his “three pound tennis shoes.”  He laughs and says he doesn’t care. Oh, yeah, he’s a guy. His weight was five pounds more than at home naked on the digital scale; heavy jeans, tee shirt, keys in pockets, wallet and those shoes.  “OK, maybe the home scale is accurate after all,” I think.

We’re escorted to a room, blood pressures checked by another rushed assistant and left alone.  Tom squeezes my hand aware of my discomfort. He tells me a joke.  I didn’t get it, a guy joke but I laughed anyway. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention.

Moments later, a light knock on the door and in walks the tall, slender doctor, an example of robust health, warmth in his eyes, hand extended. 

An hour later, a year’s worth of prescriptions on hand to be mailed to CanadaDrugs.com (please see my post as to how we’ll handle prescriptions from afar) for the best pricing. (Tom went from four prescriptions down to one from our low carb, gluten-free, sugar-free, grain-free, starch-free diet over the past year). Doc was impressed at his weight loss.  He didn’t ask me why I didn’t get on the scale.  He knows. 

We meandered off to the  lab down the hall to have “every blood test known to man” for one final check before we go on our year’s long worldwide adventure. One test that we determined to be crucial, in the event of an emergency, was blood typing. This information wasn’t in either of our charts.  Good information to know, just in case.Holding hands, Tom and I left the clinic, smiling from ear to ear, me relieved it was over, Tom was anxious to get home to enjoy the remainder of the day he had taken off work for this appointment.  

Thank you, Dr. S.  Hopefully, in a year, we’ll have our online Skype appointment with him to review of our health and refills. Perhaps, we’ll use our portable travel scale and maybe, just maybe, I’ll weigh myself on it!

Is a good memory needed for travel?…How I improved my memory after it started to decline…

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Peculiarly, my memory is better now than when it was when I was 20 years old (so I think).  When I turned 50, while working at a stressful job, my memory started deteriorating rapidly. I expected to be a mindless blob at 60, let alone, my now almost 65.  

I’d find myself wandering around a room, wondering why I was there, forgetting my keys (don’t we all?). On occasion, I’d get into a stranger’s unlocked car in a parking lot that
happened to be the same color and model as mine. That scared me. Remember names? Forget about it! Impossible, at that time.

About 10 years ago, I started working out after a five year hiatus during the stressful job.  The more I worked out, the more I noticed that my memory was gradually improving over time.  
Changing to a low inflammation diet and upgrading my exercise routine over the past year as I wrote in a post two weeks ago, gradually enhanced and thus, creating a leap in my memory. Plus, spending seemingly endless hours researching for our adventure, pushed my memory to a whole new level.
To sum up what worked for me:
3. “Exercising my brain” via hours of research, learning new information, decision making.
4.  Being passionate about any topic of interest which fires up brain cells.
Many studies suggest stress relieving activities such as meditation, yoga, and Pilate’s may be instrumental in improving one’s memory.  For me, learning new information is fuel for my soul, providing great stress relief and enjoyment. Thus, my memory improved.

Through this lengthy and time consuming process of planning to travel the world for years to come, I discovered that good memory was a benefit of good record keeping.  

Documenting our travel plans in a methodical order on an series of Excel spreadsheets within a single workbook was highly instrumental in building a foundation for our itinerary.  Keeping detailed records of our itinerary, deposits paid, balances due, a to do list, an estimate of eventual “actual” travel and living expenses, cruises, flights and other means of travel is a constant point of reference leading to building my memory.  

Subsequently, referring to this Excel workbook, without even trying, somehow I’ve memorized every detail.  Much to my surprise.  Its seems to me that, “the more I remember, the more I remember.”  This is a far cry from where I was over ten years ago.
Dementia is a common and expected fact of aging.  We see it in our family members, friends and acquaintances.  We witness lapses of memory in our loved ones, dismissing it, in part for fear of embarrassing them and also, for our own vulnerability. 

Perhaps, we may be able to prevent our own memory loss by being physically active, eating healthfully and living a proactive life. If we stay engaged, busy, passionate about our lives, purposefully and frequently memorizing tidbits of information while entering into lively animated conversations (easy to do in this heated political environment), we can retain and actually improve our memory. 

If we read to learn, not only to entertain and listen to others with undivided attention, maybe, just maybe, we will remember, not only what happened 40 years ago and also last year and… most of all, minutes and hours ago.

After all, every step of our lives is but a memory only minutes later.  Drawing upon those memories is the essence of life’s richness to share with those we love, to gather into our hearts in times of sorrow and to take with us into our old age.
As I close for today, it would be typical for one to make a joke, a play on words on memory loss. I won’t. I can’t think of any!