So I asked a good question that let me know some idea of where I was with Cirrhosis, how much time I have and how to manage that time to my best advantage.
It really took a load off my mind not to have to re-home my Pooch. One does not want to sit around dogless for 10 years ...especially if you're a dog person. I'm a dog person.
Cats mystify me. They purr. They're terriffically amusing and some of them are good mousers although indiscreet about how they handle their prey in relation to their people.
Nothing ticks me off more than to set a beautiful table and see the cat sitting on one of the place settings meticulously washing it's face. I'm apt to go into orbit and have done so, just before kicking the cat out into a snowstorm and washing every plate on the table as well as switching table cloths.
It requires way to much cat-management thinking for me to live comfortably with a cat. No matter how cute they are, or how fantastically they purr, or energetically they massage, to keep Kitty where I want her instead of where Kitty wants to be.
So being at a Two, I've still got the dog, who stays on the floor, or at most sits on his chair, or my chair with me. Good Boy!
I've had some doubts about where I am on the Cirrhosis continuum.
I went to a a specialist in late June, who planted those doubts in my mind.
I don't know if my doctor set him up, or this guy flies in from another planet for office hours.
He wanted to know why I'd been diagnosed with Cirrhosis.
Really! I thought there was good evidence for that diagnosis...Ascites, digestive misery, bloating, blood tests showing the liver was out of whack and an ultrasound that indicated Cirrhosis. With all that evidence, what other conclusion could a sane person reach? I agree with that doctor. He was no kid. He knew what he was looking at. The Specialist was not in an elaborative mood about that question that he raised about my diagnosis. He could have looked way smarter if he had been been more talkative right then.
What really floored me was his report to my doctor saying he'd reasurred me that I did not have Hepatitis.
Everyone has ALWAYS known I did not have Hepatitis. How did Hepatitis get in there?
I wonder where that Specialist guy parks his flying saucer. I didn't see it...but my instincts told me that going there was a waste of gasoline and my money.
I'm trying to process it all.
Meanwhile I feel pretty good, although tired.
About Me
- Liz
- Profile Worked in Education from ’55 until ’89.. Taught Nutrition and other aspects of Home Ec/Family Studies Worked in Arts, Renovation and Home Decoration I was a skinny little kid whose mother tried to fatten her up. Mother succeeded beyond my wildest nightmares. It was, “Clean up your plate!” “You need something to fall back on,” To her credit, she did recognize gross obesity when she saw it. When I was twelve I bought my first book…a book on diet. The quest to find that skinny little kid again was on. I yo-yoed for forty years but my big stomach was always the part that annoyed me. Cirrhosis announced itself in ’07 and I went from 175 to 132 on diuretic pills to relieve the Ascites complication. I lost 23 pounds of fluid. I looked anorexic. Today, at 145 pounds, I still look malnourished, and I am. I’ve come to realize that nutritional facts have attention getting ways of manifesting in one’s life. And these ways are never fun. There is no way to be fat just on the outside. I’m eating and exercising the best I can for my liver right now. I know it’s kind of late, but better late than never.
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