I AM A MASTER BAKER!......and I want everyone to know it!

yup! I did it!

I had heard that Sourdough bread was easier on blood sugar spikes than yeast breads so I set out to catch me some critters. I heard that the yeasts had to be spoiled so I lined my counter top with dark chocolate, deep red fruity wine, fresh raspberries. I spoke softly to the air in my kitchen for days. Sweet this's and sweet that's. I opened the door for, what I was sure was hundreds and thousands of the little critters hoping to spoil them and entice them into my mixture of flour and water. I tried to get them drunk. A few succombed to my attempts and the soggy flour began to weep a lovely hooch. I knew I was on to something. I made myself a handy wild yeast net and danced around the kitchen singing like a siren drawing them closer into my magic potion. This, by the way, is know as the "Hoochie Mama Dance". Daily I fed the goo and waited, sometimes patiently sometimes dancing madly about the kitchen and today.........today there was sweet and definite success......Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce.......My Puppy! (every pet has to have a name and I travel way too much to have anything other than a sourdough starter for a pet.)

With my happy puppy I set out to make my first loaf of Sourdough bread with roasted garlic and cheese. I could hardly wait! But with wild yeast, wait you must. It took almost 3 hours for the kneaded dough to rest and double in size and then once I kneaded it again it took a VERY long time for the loaf to double, then as the scent of fresh bread and roasted garlic spread through my house, it was an ETERNITY for it to bake and once it was baked.....yup, had to wait a grueling hour for it to cool.....I just could not do it. Warm bread, who cares what it does to my blood sugar, this is Life and life that I helped to bring into existance. Heven I tell ya. Heaven. And then since I had this warm crusty loaf of fresh baked bread, I had to have a bowl of venison stew that I had previously made. I felt so rustic. I felt so self sufficient. I felt so fullfilled.

"I knead you......I put flour in the bread, you know I knead you........" I sang as I worked the dough.

"Shhhhhhhh....resting..............

The finished product.

I was so proud I had to call everyone. I was so proud I couldn't sleep.....maybe it was a blood sugar spike....should have had another glass of wine, purely for medicinal purposes, of course.

Recipe available upon request.

Rising Above It All.......finally

I got MY life back!!!



Last year, 2008, was an extraordinary year for me, no matter which way you look at it. Gotta great job that makes me a professional airport bum, moved to Houston, mom was diagnosed terminally ill, she died on Mother's Day after a visit with her, I had to take guardianship of my beautiful 96 year old grandmother to insure that she stay safe in a nursing home and not go back to my evil uncle who kept her folded in the bed like a taco so he could collect her social security checks, I catch my breath from that and Hurricane Gustav hit my unsold house in Louisiana, throwing a tree through the roof, while cleaning up the Louisiana house and having the tree removed, Hurricane Ike hit my house in Houston..................and did I mention that I travel 38 weeks a year? It's no wonder my body gave out and I have diabetes now, I have been in Fight or Flight mode for so long. It's not just that I lost my mother this year but in the last 7 years, I have lost 2 brothers and both parents leaving me with one suicidal brother and my Sun left in this world. I don't say this to impress or depress you, life is what it is and sometimes it...well, it just sucks!

Many great things have happened because of this terrific job, the best being that I was only 7 hours away from my mother in her last days and I could spend the weekends with her. And during those drives, the Texas Blue Bonnets lined the road and made the world a little softer, a little more promising. But there has also been a down side to the job. It's hard to start a social life when you are gone all the time. I don't have a strong social support in a new environment. I have not been able to fly my plane cause I have not had the time, now that I am diabetic I have not yet got the medical sign off to fly again. When I was first diagnosed it just seemed like another block to my flight path, I thought maybe I should sell Peg. I spent hours in the hangar laying across the seats and the wing trying to figure out why I would be able to achieve my dream of my own aircraft and never be able to fly it? I decided that it happened that way so that my mother could at least see that my dream came true. She never did get to see Peg, only pictures and the stupid glazed eyes and smile I get when I talk about my plane. She was proud.

It's almost a year now since my mother died. The Blue Bonnets are blooming again and I began to wonder about the promise that I felt last year as I saw them on the way to my mother's. My buddy Craig called to say he was going to fly to Brenham with his girlfriend for lunch, it was time for me to go and see how my plane flew.

Let me explain Craig. Craig and I were in ground school together in Hammond Louisiana. We talked about going into a partnership on a plane but he moved to Houston. I bought Peg and then shortly after that was offered the position in Houston as Product Integrity Specialist...aka Professional Airport Bum. Life quickly got out of control and I was not able to fly the plane. Planes, people, houses, cars, boats, none of them like to be stagnate and unused so enter Craig. Craig pays for the hangar so Peg is sheltered and he flies the plane so that she doesn't sit and take a set in her seals, condensation on her crankshaft and the molecules of the propeller are properly distributed regularly. I fix it when he breaks it. Not a bad deal for him at all.

So we meet at the hangar and I swear that plane smiles when I show up just as much as I smile.

I have not seen Christy, Craig's sweetie, since the year of 2008 began to fall apart. I am so impressed with her. Bless her heart (we say that in Texas over the age of 40 and I am catching on quick) Bless her heart, she gets airsick and yet she still flies with her sweetie Craig. I can't help but love that kind of devotion, that kind of understanding.

We pull Peg out of the hangar (or as we say it in Louisiana, "we pull Peg out the hangar") preflight her and we are off! I can breathe! I feel the tears begin to fill from my heart to the lump in my throat to my eyes but they don't come out, they just sit there and I remember. I remember what it's like to be just me again. Just me and let the world go below me as I rise above it. I am home. My mother would have been so proud. She would have been worried that I had gone so long without being me. My mother would often comfort me by telling me "It's going to be hard to be you" cause I had so many dreams, so many goals and so many obstacles and she would be just as happy as me when I "got there". If she hadn't died of a broken heart, watching me go through this year surely would have done her in.

So we are off. So you can see that the Blue Bonnets from the air are not that magnificent blue that you see from the road but instead it's a strange grayish, greenish hue that resembles mold on a good cheese. I think of that sense of promise I felt last year when I saw the Blue Bonnets while driving to my mother's and how just like when you see mold on cheese you think something is bad, when it isn't always the case. As we come in on final, there waiting for our landing is a massive carpet of Blue Bonnets and Indian Paint Brushes surrounding the runway like a welcome mat. I am home again. It's good to be me again. I "flew" 109,000 miles last year just with Continental Airlines but that is not flying, that is traveling. Yesterday with Craig and Christy, we Flew! We left it all behind, it was gone and I can see now that the white water is settling into a more manageable life. The magic of Christy? ....Bless her heart....she kept chiming in "someone has their life back....." "Who has their life back?" Christy was the voice of my mother, and I don't even think she knows it.

I flew! I soared! I came home! Lunch wasn't bad either.

On the Road again.......

I come from a Navy family. We moved every 15 months when I was a kid. In my adult life, this lack of roots and tumbleweed tendency continued. As an aircraft mechanic I worked away from home half the year....it was the best part time job I ever had! I worked either 7 days on and 7 days off or the wonderful schedule of 14 0n and 14 off....you can get into a lot of trouble on a 14 & 14 schedule!

Now I'm a Product Intigrity Specialist....I inspect fuel systems at general aviation airports. A professional Airport Bum. Best job I will ever have. My territory is the Northwest US. From North Dakota down to Kansas, over to Northern California and up to Alaska. It must be THE best fishing territory in the USA. I am still testing this theory so I will keep you updated.

My mother prepared me for this job. I see that it's taken me a lifetime to get here. It was worth the wait. Just wish my mother was still alive to share it with. My mom, my best friend and the only place on earth that I felt perfect died after my visit with her on Mother's day 2008. I spent my travels last year trying to escape my unmanageable life. After her death I had to take guardianship of my beautiful Grandmother to ensure that she would stay safe and happy from my evil uncle, who lived off her social security and kept her folded in the bed like a taco. Now she happily scoots around the nursing home and occasionally remembers who she is. Then after the court battle for my grandmother, Hurricane Gustav hit my house in Louisiana that I have not sold and it threw a massive tree through the roof. While I was cleaning up from Gustav, Hurricane Ike was brewing in the Gulf. I prayed that it would come finish off my house but instead, it went and hit my house in Texas. 2008 was a rough year. Roughest was the loss of my mother.

So....with all the stress that I was under last year, I thought I was feeling yucky and "not quite right" because of the stress...nope. I am a diabetic. Not a needle needing diabetic and I hope it never gets to that point but it requires that I become basically obsessed with what goes into my mouth. Most times, that's not such a bad thing. Like tonight I realized that 2 potatoes and 3 pounds of crawfish does nothing to my blood sugar....I seriously mean nothing. Life Is Good!!!! and then there are times when I experience death by grilled cheese. It's still new and a learning experience for me. All in all not such a bad thing since I have lost 18 pounds in 2 months, quite smoking (did I mention that I lost 18 pounds!!!) and I walk 3 miles a day. I feel pretty good, far better than I was feeling and with my stomach now flat, I have delusions of beaches and bikini's before the age of 50 hits in a few months. Not a bad goal at all.....maybe one in a cougar print? Yeah, right!

So I hit the road the day after tomorrow and will be traveling till November. Off to a good start too, Las Vegas for a week and I get to stay in the same room for the WHOLE trip! I do the happy dance when I get to stay in the same room 2 nights in a row so I think this is an omen for a good year. Last year I stayed in 98 different hotels, flew 109,0o0 miles on Continental (the other airlines don't count since I don't have elite status yet) and drove 27,324 miles for work. I am a true road warrior. My mom prepared me for this as I said. So many miles on the road as a kid, she taught us road games like "Punch Bug", license plate bingo, and stupid songs like "I see Grass, I see grass" that me and my brothers would sing in chorus, very badly when we were just too bored. My father really liked that one..not! We had bladders that could be synchronized and go for entire states before needing relief, Texas was a bit rough to get through.

So my mom would love this job and would love to travel again. Her body just couldn't make it anymore so I take her with me in spirit. You know it's a good life when your mother truly was your best friend. A priceless woman she was. A loving soul and I swear she had to have been the strength of the world cause it sure fell apart when she left this world. I miss her.

So, come on mom, I see grass, I see grass, I see trees, I see trees, I see cows, I see cows.....

Is this the right touch?

Glucophage........sounds like a massage stroke.........

Years ago I was a massage therapist and taught sports massage. In Swedish massage, there is a stroke called effleurage. It's a smooth palms applied feather light to security blanket deep stroke that invokes a sense of well being. Glucophage sounds like that, kind of soothing. My brain had visions of this drug easing my blood sugar into normal range and it probably does that but just like the grilled cheese sandwich, there is more to the story.....

Now here is my disclaimer, what you are about to read may or may not be graphic in nature.

I like to call this my poopy pill. The first time I took it at night and in the morning it had side effects that made it impossible to make my last trip to San Francisco. For one thing, I didn't think that I could make it from my house to the airport without having to stop more than twice to use the bathroom. And second, it gives me gas that a 6 year old boy in a make shift club house would be envious of. I'm afraid that they would have had to make an emergency evacuation of the aircraft had I made my flight. I had visions of letting one slip on the flight (cause it can't be controlled!) and the emergency oxygen masks dropping from the overhead panels. It WAS that bad! When I filled the prescription, the pharmacist kindly called me over to the consultation window and discreetly whispered to me that it was going to have some "less than pleasant side effects and I might want to stay close to home for the first couple of days". I asked if I could use an over the counter remedy to counter act the effects and he looked at me sadly and told me "no". I suspect he has had some personal experience with this.

So I cancelled my San Francisco plans and spent the week on half a dose in the mornings and made earnest attempts to get a grip on my diet. That was, until the grilled cheese experience yesterday. I started my full dose in the mornings and at night after the kryptonite sandwich.

It takes time but my body is adjusting and the side effects are easing. I have visions once again of the gentle easing pressure of the Glucophage wrapping loving hands around the excess sugars from my liver and restoring a sense of well being to my body..........

This does bring to mind a funny travel story that has NOTHING to do with diabetes!
I travel every week 4-5 days. I don't know about you but I get bored in airports and restless on long commercial flights. I have to find ways to entertain myself.

On this particular flight to Iforgotwhere, I was not fortunate enough to get a window or aisle seat. I'm OK with that. but this time I was sitting between two rather large mountain men, neither of which were willing to let me have an arm rest, so I sat there with my shoulder blades pointed towards each other like the people on either side of me were contagious cause you can't invade personal space, its a RULE!. About 5 minutes after lift off I remembered that I was letting a friend of mine fly Peg, my airplane and his girlfriend had a tendency to get airsick. I was going to need another airsick bag in my plane. I reach forward and pull it out of the seat back in front of me. This little action didn't go unnoticed by my seat mates and I found that I had a little more shoulder room.

Now like I said, I have to find ways to entertain myself. This was going to be a 4 hour flight and sitting like I was sitting was going to be painful by the end of the first hour. With this tiny bit more breathing space I was allowed, the oxygen got to my brain and I could think clearer. Think thoughts I probably should not be thinking. But I still didn't have enough oxygen to my brain to enforce the inner social director into action, so I reached up and opened the air valve up top (called a weemac by the way, cute huh?), the air was now directed right down on me and in this small gesture, the gentlemen to my right and left leaned apart a tad more, I now had arm rests. More oxygen to my brain now but still not enough for the inner social director to step up and tell me to "play nice", so I began to fan myself with the airsick bag..................I now have enough room between me and my seat mates to sublease. I wipe my brow and................

These guys were true gentlemen. In stereo, they asked me if I was OK. I wiped my brow again and said I would be fine. Mountain man on my right (the coveted aisle seat) offered me his seat...in case I should have to get up in a hurry. I graciously accepted! Having had enough oxygen to my brain now, I knew a good thing when I saw it. Eventually, the inner social director got the best of me and when drinks were served, I sprung for drinks for my seat mates, then once they were friendly and cordial, I confessed. I just needed the bag for my own plane. I switched back to my assigned seat and the Mountain men kindly gave me a bit more room and an arm rest. They were good guys, smelled good, looked good, not a bad spot to be in, sandwiched inbetween to big strong men.

Did you know that when you are on the moving sidewalks in the airports, if you turn around and walk in place it looks like you are doing the Moon walk? Yep, it does. Gotta find some way of entertaining myself.

Hello, My name is Doris and I am a diabetic.....

Hello Doris!

After swimming in the rive Da Nile yesterday, I got to the bank, warmed myself in the sun and dined on not one but 2 luscious grilled cheese sandwiches, on white bread with jalapenos and dipped in salsa. My favorite comfort food. It was an over cast day in the real world and that just makes me crave certain foods. Yesterday it was grilled cheese. Towanda, my inner Cave Woman was no where to be found, I suspected she wouldn't approve but I did it anyway. My before reading was somewhat decent so I indulged. What did we learn?

1. For me, this seems to be a disease of indulgence and the cure is going to have to be self control.

2. Learning to control it is not far from learning how to fly. When you are first learning to fly, before you can solo, you have to master emergency situations like stalls. You have power on stalls that simulate stalls that can occur while taking off and you have power off stalls that simulate stalls that can occur while coming in for a landing. Stalls happen when the angle of the wing is at such an angle that the wind can not create it's lift. Make a paper airplane and throw it. If it doesn't go straight the whole flight but pitches up then sharply down, this is a stall. Learning to eat as my body needs is much like this. Grill Cheese sandwiches, for me caused an power on stall and my blood sugar soared to 262. The consequences were miserable and I had to sleep it off.

3. As in any loss or change, there is a certain level of grieving. It goes in stages, 2 of those stages are denial and bargaining. I spent a good amount of time in both yesterday. And that brings me to this blog.

Hello, My name is Doris and I am a diabetic.

Step One: Admitted we were powerless over diabetes and that our blood sugar had become unmanageable.

Step Two: Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves or medication could return the glucose readings to normal.

Step Three: Made the decision to turn our will and our diets over to the care of a health care team such as endocrinologist, diabetes educator, etc.

Step Four: Made a searching and fearless inventory of our pantries and began a food log and regular glucose testing.

Step Five:...........................you get the picture.

A grilled cheese sandwich! Something as benign as a grilled cheese sandwich made poison in my body! It was certainly a wake up call.....OK, it put me to sleep really but when I woke up, I knew. I knew that there was going to be no more bargaining, no more dips in Da Nile, the meter is not wrong, this is for real, the real deal, I am a diabetic. Wishing it away is not going to get me anywhere.

Now what?

You Make me Feel like a Natural Woman.......

Meet the Inner Cave Woman!

I woke up this morning dripping from the waters of Da Nile. This just can't be happening to me. I didn't sign up for it, I don't want it, thank you. I don't have time for it and I have other things to do, better things. Like eat what I want, when I want, where I want, how I want. I want I want I want! But for now I have to deny myself. I hate this. I am angry! I want to throw rocks! I got to thinking about my Cave woman diet, depressed by my morning numbers. Cave Woman needs a name to pull me through this. I always loved the movie Fried Green Tomatoes. I loved the wise old woman and the birth of another wise, soon to be old woman in the change of life. I loved the passing of the torch through the jar of honey from the bee hunter or bee keeper or bee whisperer, I forgot what it was. I just remember the passing of the jar of honey and it was like the passing of the torch from one Goddess to another. So Cave Woman is Towanda. Why? The first time I powered up an aircraft and rotated off the ground that was the scream that I let out. I was free. Somehow, Towanda has to free me from the depths of Da Nile to a freedom that I know is there. I mean, after a hurricane you don't see squirrels, cats and dogs lying around dead, I have not yet seen anyone dead and it be from the diagnosis of diabetes, maybe from diabetes out of control but not just the diagnosis. So somehow I know that I can get through this and I know that I need the help of my inner Cave Woman....now known as Towanda.

So I have higher than I want numbers this morning and I am being good. Good to the point that my taste buds are changing and I am preferring the live foods, combinations of the right amounts of proteins to carbs to fiber to whatever....I can feel the difference and I like it. But I look at my numbers and I wonder, "Am I going to be able to do this with diet and exercise alone?" When I am on the road, some days, like travel days to Washington and Alaska, I bet I don't get in a thousand steps a day let alone have a way to exercise. and just for now, I want to forget the Cave Woman diet, forget the numbers and have a breakfast that I want. Like a rest stop or something. So I pull out of my freezer.....raisin bread.....in a plastic wrapper. Towanda tells me that it's in plastic, not available to her in her time. I defiantly read the label. Hmmmm.....sugar content is a little high....Towanda perches herself on the counter top and blocks the outlet as I pull the toaster out of the cabinet. I find another outlet and pop the (for now) taboo treat into the toaster, pour myself a cuppa coffee and step out on the deck to see what the birds sound like this morning. I come back and my toaster has betrayed me and joined the ranks of Towanda, Cave Woman, keeper of the common sense and it has burnt my toast. Now I really want to throw rocks! I pop in a couple more slices and my breakfast is complete. Yup, just a couple slices of toast, that's all I want. I am not big on breakfast in the first place and since diagnosis, I am diligent about eating it, and snacks, and and and. I used to be able to go till 3 in the afternoon before I put any nutrition into my body. I know this is not good. I don't get the sensation of "hungry" just like some people don't get the sensation of "full". The indicator just is not working. I tap on the glass and nothing. It's inop. A couple of times since I started the Cave Woman diet, I have been able to tell what time it is by the stirring in my stomach and I am intrigued by the sensation. And years back, when I went to Weight Watchers to loose a few pounds I did feel the sensation of hunger at meal times. Back then I ate more than I ever had and lost weight, and learned what it was like to feel the sensation of hunger and it amazed me.

So my hunger indicator is in the shop. In the meantime, Towanda and I have discussed that I can not handle eating an elephant all in one bite and diabetes is a massive elephant. It's Saturday, just toast, just once in a while is better than nothing, better than Dr. Pepper and one small step back...maybe not a step back but a standstill? Sure, I could make better choices, I can also choose not to. It takes time to grieve the loss of anything, I am grieving the loss of the life that I once knew, I admit, my habits weren't that great, I admit that I am liking some of the changes I am making but I also admit that I am still swimming in Da Nile. Shall we "Raise An" toast to the process?

It takes time to dry off from the waters of Da Nile. Cave Woman Towanda didn't have a towel back then either. Towanda will carry me through, she's one tough cookie.......mmmmmm cookies......... It's a good thing I don't have a towel to throw in once in a while!

I gotta go Tea Tea...hey you know me....

The road to Anywhere begins with a single step.

Did your mother ask you if "you went before you left the house?" like my mother did? And usually the question was posed after you left the house and then it was to late to go back and do the right thing?

I was raised in a Navy family. We moved every 15 months. We were good travelers. We could hold our bladders for entire states and then our bladders were synchronized with my fathers, who did the driving and was in control of the bio break stops. Texas was a tough state to make it through! But this blog entry is not about bladder control. It's about a new road and first steps.

I went to my hangar today to visit my plane Peg. One of the consequences of out of control diabetes is you can't get a third class medical certificate necessary to pilot a plane. Right now, I can't fly, or I can't fly alone legally but I can fly with another pilot in command or a flight instructor. So I went to sit with Peg and plan my course of action to get back up in the air. Making payments on a plane you can't fly is quite a motivator.

In the past, on the way to the airport I would stop and get a Dr. Pepper. And that's what I did today. Only I made a "smart choice" and got a sugar free Diet Dr. Pepper. It was a habit. A nice habit that I thought I would miss until I started my Cave Woman Diet. I gave up sodas a month ago, not by choice so much as it just gave me that "not quite right" feeling, my body and my taste buds just naturally rejected it and as a result I have lost 4 pounds effortlessly. I did a happy dance on the scale this morning when I saw that.

So now I'm faced with having to make another change, another small step. How will this effect my road travels? Dr. Pepper was my constant companion. And then I had visions of sun tea slowly brewing on the dashboard of my rental car. Easily packable, light weight refreshing Celestial Seasonings Sun Tea bags carefully stuffed in water bottles going down the road to Anywhere. That's not so bad. In fact my inner Cave Woman is digging it. Since I began this Cave Woman Diet, eating nothing that wasn't available to my fore mothers (well there are exceptions, I love Splenda) I have developed a taste for the natural sweetness in life. Like sun tea on the dash and road side tea parties.

Hey! Maybe I can make sun tea from the waters of Da Nile?