February 2010

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I went to a job interview yesterday. This is still a fairly novel experience for me; I don’t suppose I’ve been to more than a half-dozen of these in my life. I applied for the job because my savings are getting low, and because I was curious; curious about the “real job” market, curious about what “they” pay, and curious about how I really felt about working for anyone else besides myself.
The interview went fine; I’m on the short-list, and expecting a call-back. I think it’s unlikely that I’ll take the job if its offered to me. Partly it’s because the job offers too many hours for too little pay. Partly it’s because of the reaction of the interviewers (considering me to be clearly over-qualified). Partly it’s because, if I turn this down, I’ll be starting over from zero once again.
There’s something delightful and liberating about having nothing. Being at zero makes it hard to hide from yourself. It’s a position in life that emphasizes possibility and potential over security and complacency. Sometimes nothing is the only thing that really lights a fire under my ass. I went to the Caribbean with nothing, and it worked out okay. I came back to the States with nothing, and it worked out well. I came to this town a little over a year ago with two bags and the clothes on my back, and now I’m marketable and equipped.
I don’t have payments to make, a mortgage to pay, kids to support, or any other expensive habits. My rent is very reasonable, my car is cheap, and I enjoy the support of a great partner, community, and adopted extended family. Generally, I work at the work I want to do, and work the hours I want to work. No, it’s not steady, but there’s nothing else in my life that requires that steady, reliable (low) paycheque.
So I’m staying at zero. I have skill, ability, and knowledge to market. I do not need to take whatever is available to me; I will create what others wish was available to them.
Perhaps I’ll be really truly broke in another month. There’s always the chance that I’ll lose everything. Again. I’m ready, I’ve been there before.
I know I’ll land on my feet no matter what.

I just got back from the clinic and pharmacy. Down the hatch with three different drugs, and let’s hope for the best! After entering day 7 or 8 of sickness (the days/dates are getting blurry), and enduring several straight nights of sleepless blood-spitting coughing agony, it was finally time to endure the American Industrial Medical Complex and seek treatment.

Of course, I’m uninsured. It’s taken me a couple years to really understand that my apathetic attitudes towards health-care have been engendered by a Canadian upbringing; it’s hard to get into the habit of being concerned about something which you have always been led to assume is essentially comprehensive and free.
The third clinic I tried this morning turned out to be the charm (one other closed, one other not accepting walk-ins). $75 for the doctor, $64 for the drugs: $139 for labour and materials. Not bad, if you compare it to any bill a mechanic, electrician, or other technical tradesman might leave you with. And really, I think that’s the best way to approach the doctor: like a skilled tradesman who is working for you, and who needs to perform to your expectations.

This time, as for the other 3-4 times I’ve been to a doctor over the past few years, was for bronchitis. I am now officially annoyingly familiar with bronchitis and pneumonia. A lifetime of asthma and several bouts of pneumonia have left me a bit of a pulmonary wreck. I might even qualify as an expert, as least with respect to my own lungs. As such, I find it very annoying when any doctor does a quick poke, prod, listen to the breathing, and dashes off yet another prescription for a broad-spectrum antibiotic.
I am against such prescriptions on principle; antibiotic use/abuse engenders “super-bugs” and is hard on your body. Antibiotics have their place in medicine, but are not the panacea many doctors seem to treat them as such. More importantly, the primary cause of bronchitis is almost always viral; only 5%-10% of bronchitis cases can be attributed to bacteria. Only one doctor I’ve ever seen has brought this fact up, asserting that antibiotics are generally useless against viral bronchitis.

This is just one of those things that people have a right to assert and/or question when at the doctor’s office. I think far to many folks go in scared or nervous, and unquestioningly accept whatever they’re told. I’m no medical expert, but I said, I know my body and I know bronchitis.
I have to admit, I wasn’t too sure about heading into a clinic (at least until my health was so bad that I really needed to), in no small part because I wasn’t relishing the prospect of butting heads with yet another abrupt antibiotic-slinging clinician. Luckily, the doctor I drew today didn’t baulk at my questioning. Yes, I ended up with an antibiotic along with everything else, but only after voicing my objection and being reassured that it was to guard against the strong possibility of a secondary infection (more than likely given how long I’ve been sick). The doctor also honoured my disinclination towards inflammatory drugs and steroids.

Well, lucky me… I’m still sick, but armed with pills, potion, and puffer, I’m hoping to be mended up soon enough. Still sick, but optimistic!

It’s been about a month now, and I’ve been sticking to it. The new diet, that is. Maybe diet is the wrong word; it’s more like feeding scheme. I’ve been oh-so-good at procrastination all these years, certainly in the area of diet and exercise. I’m still procrastinating about going to see the (recommended to me by a friend) nutritionist, but at least I’ve somehow managed to make some solid and radical shifts in the way I eat.

First off, the cold-turkey stuff. No more added fats; butter, oil, cream, etc., excepting a little cold flax oil on a salad now and then. No more bread and pasta; actually, I’m aiming for no more wheat at all, at least no more gluten. No more fruit juice. No more starches; no potatoes, no rice.
My dairy intake is now limited to non-fat organic plain yoghurt, and the very rare serving of cheese. Now that I’ve been training myself to see fruit as sugar, and sugar as massive low-quality caloric intake, I’m pretty much right off of fruit. I’m trying to get in a few servings of fruit per week, but always combined with a protein. For fruit, I’ve been sticking to dried mulberries, blueberries (very few!), and apples.

Now, for what I have been eating. Raw veggies; these are “free”. I prefer “crunchy” over leafy or mushy; I must be eating 10 raw cucumbers a week, along with cauliflower, grape tomatoes, carrots, and fennel. During this period, I have discovered that I am indeed allergic to celery. I’ve also become a fool for raw organic almonds. I’m not (yet) a vegetarian, but I’m seeing more easily how I could become one. I’ve stocked my freezer/fridge with boneless/skinless chicken breasts and trimmed lean pork loin chops, pre-cut into 1/2-size portions and individually wrapped/frozen.
Alone with what I don’t eat, and what I do eat, I’ve been paying much attention to when I eat. My (largely successful) goal has been to eat 5-7 times each day. I am learning to keep food with me at all times; the moment I begin to feel the least big hungry, or feel my energy dropping, I’ll drink a glass of water and eat a dozen almonds, a cucumber, or a carrot. Even better, I’m trying to make myself eat before I feel any hunger, regularly every 2-3 hours.

Naturally, I’m eating out much much less these days. When I do, I’m scanning the menu for health. So far, the one real “cheat” I allow myself is sushi; it’s too expensive to bulk up on, and I figure good sushi is not such a bad indulgence.

Still, there are those times… Craving bread has been the worst. Not just bread, but dough. I’d give most anything for a consequence-free pizza. Bagels. Bagels with cream cheese. Huge sandwiches. Uhg. It’s in these moments that I’m finding myself most-tested… And so, as I am right this moment, I can be occasionally found eating my fill, bulking up, eating, chewing, and swallowing just for the feel of it. Today’s weapon of choice? Air-puffed millet, dry out of the sack. Yeah, not so indulgent after all, but it stuffs my face just fine.

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