The Wellness Bitch

Quick! I have a little over a week until I have a big trip planned and I feel a tickle in my throat accompanied by some phlegm hanging out back there.

Someone press the panic button!

I get all Western when I feel a lil bit of sickness coming on. Partially because I don’t get sick very often, so that when I do, I get hit hard. And partially because I still think Western sometimes. In other words, “Yikes! I can’t get sick right now. I have three kids, two blogs, and a business. (Oh yeah…and a husband.)”

“I have way too much to do! What can I do to make this go away?”

As opposed to what might be a more mindful approach:

“What is my body trying to tell me?” or “Take a day off” or ”Slow down.”

Nope. Uh-uh. You have to hit me over the head with a 104 fever and a toilet bowl full of vomit before I declare a sick day.

So today, I’m scarfing down a cocktail of zicam cold remedy, sambucus, and vitamin C chased with gallons of purified PiMag water. I’m getting into bed at 8:30 pm, closing my eyes, and repeating my mantra. health. wealth. love. ease.

I call it “the McHolistic way.”

See? Nobody’s perfect.

Of the umpteen blogs I subscribe to, I only actually read a handful daily. One that I can count on for information that will make a difference in my life is Fooducate.  Fooducate says their aim is to “provide practical advice for buying healthy food at the supermarket.” More often than not, they do a whole lot more: Providing up-to-the-minute news on food recalls, bad industry practices, and hidden agendas.

Today, though, they hit me with more than just usable food news. I got a good laugh.

On the “it’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so pathetic” list:

“Kellogg’s Recalls 10,000,000 Pounds of Sugar“

Kellogg’s announced on Friday it is recalling millions of boxes of cereal boxes due to “an uncharacteristic off-flavor and smell coming from the liner in the package.”

The recalled products are certain boxes of Froot Loops, Corn Pops, Apple Jacks, and Honey Smacks. So far, no consumer is known to have been affected, which made the bad-news-is-best-released-on-weekends recall press release quite convenient.

Not that recalling these products is a bad thing. All 4 cereals, targeted squarely at kids, are loaded with sugar, and will not be missed by health and nutrition minded consumers.

As the article mentions, sugar isn’t the only reason not to buy these oh-so-yummy “breakfast” cereals. They’re also laced with BHT so that they can live on the shelves from now until Doomsday and the artificial food coloring will definitely set your child up for an energetic start to the day. Only to crash sooner than you can sing “A is for Apple. J is for Jacks.”

I’m not immune to Apple Jacks, particularly the sweet milky treat at the bottom of the bowl. But this is not breakfast, my friends. It’s dessert. For sugar addicts. Like me.

In the past few weeks, I’ve come up against a few people (including family and friends) who think I am a bit judgmental. I think they’re right. But I also think judgmental gets a bad rap.

It’s one of those words in our society that connotes criticism. Derisiveness. Abuse. Blame.

Blame, perhaps. Criticism, sometimes. But derisiveness? Abuse? No way.

Let me make this perfectly clear. When I judge you, I do not feel contempt. (Though you may hear it that way.)

If anything, I feel frustrated. Or sad. And sometimes defeated.

I don’t call you out to make you feel like shit. (Though you might.)

So what, then?

It’s simple. I am the one with the cojones to tell you that what you’re doing is making you sick. On this platform, I shamelessly ignore the social convention I often follow in real life.

I don’t want a pat on the back for this (unless you are a licensed massage therapist and that pat is followed by a rub and squeeze.) But the next time you’re glaring at the computer screen thinking what a BITCH I am — (As in, “Who the fuck does she think she is?) — ask yourself, “What does she get out of this?” (Hint: The answer does not involve money…though I’m open to that option) 

I am not judging you.

I’m stirring your pot.

Bitch.

Welcome guest blogger, Cat Delett, who visits us from Consume This First, a blog dedicated to sharing food intelligence with families who eat.

An Open Letter to Jamie Oliver
Re: McDonald’s and Hospitals

Dear Jamie Oliver,

When you are finished fixing school lunches, can you and your Revolution please get McDonald’s out of hospitals?

Recently, we spent the evening in the emergency room with our three-year-old. By 8:30 pm we knew we weren’t leaving anytime soon so my husband took our six-year-old to the cafeteria to get some dinner.

Half an hour later they were back with a McDonald’s bag. The cafeteria was closed, but the McDonald’s was open. In the hospital. Where people are trying to get well.

We ate it. We didn’t have much choice at that point, but it seems crazy to me that an institution dedicated to the idea “do no harm” would be giving people easy access to such unhealthy food and, by allowing it in the hospital at all, silently implying it’s okay to eat.

It’s not just nighttime ER visitors who are impacted. I look around at the many overweight hospital staff, especially the ones who work at night when the cafeteria is closed, and I think – rather, I know – easy access to McDonald’s in the hospital is a contributing factor. And then there are the families of patients needing long-term care. I’m sure the “comfort” of McDonald’s food is psychologically welcome, especially for kids – a Happy Meal to take their little minds off of sad issues. But at what price?

You of all people know, Mr. Oliver, that fast food is directly connected to heart disease, diabetes, and obesity. It may cut down on travel time to get the food that’s making you sick right in the hospital and it may be good for hospital revenues, but it’s killing people.

Sure, people need to take responsibility for what they eat, but such unhealthy, fried, trans fat-filled, sugar-laden food and drink doesn’t belong in a place dedicated to healing and health. People should have to leave the hospital if they want it.

Mr. Oliver, I implore you: Use your Food Revolution influence to bring some sense back into the health industry. A hospital is no place for a McDonald’s. We need to get toxic fast food out of places that should be teaching us about nutrition and healthy lifestyle

I know a lot of people who deal with some form of mental illness. No one I know is in the crazy house, per say, but I know a bunch of people with diagnosed or undiagnosed depression or obsessive compulsive disorder or anxiety. It’s gotten to the point where “mild depression” should be listed as a synonym for “creative” in the thesaurus.

I’m not trying to make light of what can often be a serious illness and life altering condition. I can speak from experience as someone who has walked out of a shrink’s office with a prescription for an SSRI and an anti-anxiety med.

On the other hand, I’ve gotten fairly fed up with the careless drug dealing that’s going on and lack of responsibility, as I see it, on the part of practitioners who are not holding their patients accountable for making lifestyle changes that may make as much of a difference as meds (if not more) on emotional wellness.

The most obvious (and one that is backed strongly by research) is exercise. IMHO, practitioners should write a script cocktail for an anti-depressant + three days a week of aerobic exercise. AND, hold their patients accountable for the exercise or else no refills.

Less obvious, but just as significant, are dietary changes. For example, if you suffer from anxiety and you’re popping three atavans a day, and you’re still drinking your double skim capp every morning, WAKE UP. You are working against yourself.

Or if you suffer from depression and you eat a diet heavy with refined sugar and processed foods, you are only contributing to your despair. I am not making this up.

It drives me batty that people with mild depression do not first casually research the food-mood connection, nor do they consider how our 9 - 5 sedentary schedules impact our emotional and mental state. Obviously, each person needs to be responsible and accountable for their own health and well-being. (For the record, I’m not talking about suicidal individuals or schizos or psychotics or bi-polar).

However,

Psychiatrists who basically serve as drug dealers: What do you have to say for yourself?

Psychotherapists who do not hold your clients accountable for their diet and exercise: What do you have to say for yourself?

Readers who are medicated, but keep eating sugary foods with no nutritional value and don’t exercise: What say you?

I’d like to know. Because the state of affairs as it pertains to mental health in this country just makes me sad.

Welcome today’s guest blogger “Non-toxic Mom,” who blogs about the daily adventures of trying to raise kids and live a non-toxic lifestyle in our increasingly chemical world. Check her out at non-toxicmom.com

I’m not a perfect driver; nobody is. But the ridiculous activities I’ve observed going on in other people’s cars on my morning commute have reached a new level. I’ve been ranting for a while about toxic food, toxic cleaning products, and toxic relatives. Now I have a new category to complain about: toxic drivers.

As I sit in my car at 7:30 AM, stuck in traffic, I start to wonder what’s going on around me.  How are the other drivers coping with the annoying standstill?  They must be so bored. I look around and see that my fellow commuters are, in fact, not at all bored; they are actually quite busy. The guy in front of me is smoking away; every puff he exhales goes right into my lungs via my air conditioner, which I attempt to turn off but then start sweating profusely. He decides he’s had enough, flicks what’s remaining onto the highway pavement, and immediately lights up another one. I’ve never met this guy before, but I hate him.

 I start wishing horrible things upon him. Some of these thoughts get pretty violent. Then I feel bad so I downgrade the wishes to slightly less aggressive thoughts. I need to distract myself from the fact that I am being suffocated, so I decide to check out some other drivers. To my left is a guy holding his cell phone to his ear, carrying on a lively conversation as if he were sitting on his couch. To my right a girl is texting, barely looking up as she inches her car forward. Another car pulls up on my left.  This guy is reading the newspaper.  The lady behind him is peeling an orange while slowly steering with her knees. Sadly, she’s the least toxic of the group; at least she’s eating a fruit.

 I sit and try to figure out what is wrong with these people. Or, perhaps, there’s something wrong with me. I could get so much more accomplished in my day if only I would multi-task while I’m driving. I could install a fridge and a hot plate and make dinner for my family. I could throw a bag full of laundry in the back seat and fold clothes. I could watch movies on my iPod, polish my nails, learn to play the clarinet, teach myself Latin, and get a whole bunch of other things accomplished, if only I was a toxic driver.

Like I said, I’m not perfect, but the line has to be drawn somewhere. Cars are for driving. Open your eyes and pay attention.

 Now I’ve gotta end this post because the traffic is starting to let up. Just kidding.