Merry Christmas to All--Hey wait a minute!

Oh, wait, I don't want to offend anyone.

Happy Hanukkah--even though it ended on December 16th. That would be to my Jewish family members.

Happy Kwanzaa--December 26th to January 4th. No family members, but hats off to the Seven Principles.

Happy New Year--January 1, 2013 I'll be in Reno hanging with the hubby.

I'm not sure what the dates are for Chinese New Year. Though it's the . year of the snake in 2013. This is another holiday I love and it's not because my grandkids are half Chinese. I adore the colors, the dragons, and the money. Plus it's just fun.

My holiday tradition starts here. In Penn Valley, a little town of about fifteen, eh if you sneeze hard enough, maybe sixteen hundred people. We have two small grocery stores. Two tiny retail bank outlets. Two restaurants, two sandwich shops, oh, and a car wash. Our local gas station is called the Taco Shell, because Taco Bell is the only fast food for about fifteen to twenty miles.

We like it here. We know everybody and they know us. You can't go into the store or stop for gas without someone waving.

When our local paper did an article about my new book, A Shadow of Time, my neighbors celebrated with us. That's a nice way to live and very different from the Bay Area. 

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It's Christmas in the foothills and boy do we celebrate the holiday. People dress in Victorian garb, carolers hang out on the street corners, and if you're lucky, the horse cart will pass by and give you a ride.

Ours is a tri-town area. Penn Valley, Grass Valley, and Nevada City. Thousands of miles of electric lights decorate all three. We have the food drive, the Christmas present drive, AND the gift exchange if you want to take part.

Sometimes it snows. Big white puffy flakes. Weather report says snow for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I'll be back from the Bay Area Sunday night so maybe we'll have snow for Christmas. I could use a little this year.

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This Christmas season has been especially poignant.

Definition: Sharp sense of sadness.

I LOVE Christmas. The tree, the decorations, the parties, the food, ah, yeah, well.

I found out Monday I have diabetes and Hashimoto's disease. Now the Hasimoto's is a thyroid disorder that happens when your immune systems attacks and tries to kill your thyroid. I keep imagining all these little cell-guys, dressed like warriors, lances out and at the ready, my thyroid ducking behind my esophagus in terror.

The thyroid gland in your neck does remarkable things besides hiding. It regulates your metabolism. The fix is easy, just a pill. Now the diabetes could be from a pancreatic inflammation caused by Crohn's or the Hashimoto's might be causing the uptick in general metabolic disorders. Guess it doesn't really matter as the fix is the same for all. Take another pill or an injection.

*sigh*

I swear I have some kind of past life thing with food.

Because of the Crohn's I live on liquid food for breakfast and lunch. So, yesterday, I take my FIRST diabetes pill and get out my liquid food. (The bottle says to take the diabetes pill with breakfast.)

Now my doc knows how I eat because I told her.

Twenty minutes later my hands are shaking, I can't think, and I'm feeling really really bizarre. I know it's the pill because it's the only thing I've done different. So I call the doc.

"It's hypoglycemia," she yells. "Eat some protein."

"I just did! Liquid protein."

"Eat something sweet!"

Sweet?

I grab Ryan's energy bar from the fridge and inhale it. I'm still not feeling good so I grab two of those plastic cups of canned peaches and cobble them down. In a few minutes, I'm feeling better, but I have to tell you I was this close to passing out. There's a part of me that wonders what would have happened if I'd been alone. 

So, now I have to eat more to keep myself from getting hypoglycemia. This will probably upset my Crohn's because it's used to liquid food. But maybe the thyroid pill will keep my metabolism normal so I don't gain five hundred pounds.

Life's a gamble, you know?

And this is Christmas.

The time I bake cookies, pies, and cakes. OK, not pies and cakes, but definitely cookies. Sugar, chocolate chip, and on the rare occasion, gingerbread.Christmas Eve is all set for cookie baking with the grandkids. So I'm thinking... if I don't eat a lot, and I get hypoglycemic....

Probably not a good plan, but I'll show Josh how to dial 911 just in case. 

Aside from my health issues, there is someone I love very dearly who also has, ahem, some physical problems. I'm not going to mention his name, the stupid son of a b*&^%, but this week I learned that we all have different ways of exiting this life. Some, like me, do everything the doctor says within reason. I've been known to cut a pill in half because I'm sensitive to medication, but that's as close as I'll come to de-medicating myself.

Now this other person whom I love dearly, (I'm thinking if I say it often enough I'll get over my mad), decided he DIDN'T have a heart attack and walked out of the hospital.

Yes, that is exactly what happened.

Walked out. Left. Acted like a spoiled brat.

How does somebody do that?

My husband tells me to settle down, that people have a right to do things their way.

"But it's Christmas!"

I'm thinking of the kids, the people who love him, who just because he BELIEVES he didn't have heart attack, he may hurt with his actions. 

Like me.

Okay, so it's not about the kids, it's about me. About how I'll feel if something horrible happens. He may be perfectly happy to exit the planet this way, but I'm not. 

Okay, I get that.

Life is about learning to dance in the rain.
 
Even when the choice is someone else's and not your own.

All that said, this IS my most favorite time of year--even if I feel over medicated, grouchy, and tired. I will still see my kids and grandkids. I will eat roast beef and make merry. I'll drink... maybe not eggnog, but I'm sure there's a suitable replacement.

Hugs your kids tight and your grandkids tighter. Remember we are here for just a short time. Make the most of it you can.

Merry Christmas everyone!

(((hugs)))

Louann

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