Knee deep in Jackie

I pre-ordered Historic Conversations on Life with John F. Kennedy from Amazon as soon as the project was announced. And I was sad that the package had been delivered to my office now that I'm stuck here at home. As I bitched and moaned, my best friend asked, "Why don't you ask someone to go into your office and send it to you at home?"

Uh ... cuz I'm an idiot.

So today the postman delivered two packages -- one was my copy of the book & CDs, the other was an identical set, a get well gift from my friend Mindy. I spent decades wondering what Jackie had included in her oral history for the Kennedy Library, and now I have it squared.

As I walked to the UPS store to return my original, still-sealed set to Amazon, I had Jackie in my headphones. It was so charming to hear her tell stories about her introduction to political life through old Boston pols with names like Onions Burke and Juicy Gremara.

Then there's the book I just began reading: Reading Jackie. It's a history of her career as editor, with an emphasis on how her life experience informed her literary projects. I got it on sale as Borders gasped its last, so I'd have a little Jackie to keep my company during my convalescence. So, in essence, I have the story of the decade that ensured her place in history and the last decade of her life, when she lived her life on her own terms and not through the reflected glory of a powerful man.

Walking through the park

I walked about a half mile today, which included a stroll through the park nearest my home. I haven't been there in months! I'm glad it's still all green and that the trees are still leafy. But now, I need a nap.

Drum roll, please!

I have lost 9 lbs.!

This morning I screwed up the nerve to step on my bathroom scale for the first time since mid-August, and was delighted to find that I'm back to where I was in Summer 2010, when I decided I was merely fat (as opposed to obese). The little black Sharpie mark I made on the display remains, though it's faded over the last 14 months.

I have not been moving very much at all. I mean, my leisurely little daily jaunts around town could hardly be considered cardio. And for the past week I have eaten everything/anything I please. (As evidenced by my daily English muffin w/strawberry jam carb fest.) And yet I lost 9 lbs.

So I guess my GP was right back in July when she suspected a lot of this new weight was bloat, caused by pressure on my organs from my audaciously large cyst.

But now that I know I don't have cancer, now that I know much of the relentless weight gain that left me feeling helpless was indeed beyond my control, I am determined to get healthier and feel better.

I know I can't resume exercising again yet, at least not in any strenuous way. But I have resistance cords and I'm going to use them every day. After all, this strength training includes no bending, no pressure on my abs. And I'm going to resume tracking my calories at The Daily Plate. I'm not going to deprive myself anything I crave because I know I'm still healing, but it may encourage me to make smarter choices.

Hopefully, by the time next month, I'll be on an exercise bike or maybe in the pool again!

Oh, my!

Lately I have been having many fascinatingly unusual bad dreams while on pain killers, but last night I had a fascinatingly unusual good one. Very good. That's emphasis on the VERY and added emphasis on the GOOD.

What made it unusual was the complete lack of romance. I can't tell you who I was dreaming about -- not because I'm repressing his identity, but because it simply didn't matter.