Tuesday, 27 July 2010
I drink wheatgrass juice every day and get two trays of fresh grass delivered each week from my "grassman" Corey. Every Wednesday afternoon when I get home from work two green buggers like the ones on the picture greets me at my door.
I usually juice the one tray as soon as possible after getting home and then freeze it in small disposable cups. I bring one with me to work every day and drink just before lunch. I juice a shot from the second tray every evening before dinner. Recently, however, I have been cutting both trays in one go, putting the grass in the fridge and juicing two shots every evening before dinner. I use a special juicer made for leafy greens. When the rosehips are ripe I will try to juice them in this juicer. Last year when I tried to juice a handful of them in the large (centrifugal) juicer only a few drops came out, so this year I will try the wheatgrassjuicer.
Wheatgrass is also available as powder, I use that mostly for travel, as I believe the freshly made juice is by far the most nutritious.
Wheatgrass is indeed a super food, it is packed with all sorts of goodies, in fact it is one of the healthiest foods you can offer your body. It is rich in antioxitants, enzymes, chlorophyll, amino acids, bioflavonoids as well as many different minerals and vitamins. Wheatgrass is believed to help in protecting against degenerative diseases, stimulate blood circulation and support liver function.
Wednesday I went to my weekly Ichuan class. Part of the lesson we practice in couples and Wednesday I practiced with a guy I had not practised with before. He knows nothing about my lymphedema. When he wanted to make an adjustment to my position, touching my knee he of course felt that it was bigger and "upholstered", and so he asked if I was wearing something (as in a bandage). Great. I just said yes but perhaps I said it in a way so he gathered he should not persue the matter. I don't know what he thought. My teacher and one or two others at class knows, but I am not interested in everyone knowing. The situation is what it is though. I can be ashamed all I want, but it’s not my fault that the Lymphedema has come, so I should try to not be ahamed of it. But for Christs sake, everyone else is hopping around in little summer dresses and flipflops being beautyful, and then I turn up, elephant legged, sweaty and sticky in long trousers and compression stocking. I feel sure people would be repulsed if I lifted the leg of my trousers up exposing my leg, or if they could see me struggling to get the compression stocking on. I can disguise my condition and look quite “normal”, but if they only knew...
Maybe I am blowing it out of proportions in my head, but everything is so superficial nowadays and sometimes (even before LE) I think that it is no longer the inside that counts. It is for me, but what good is that if the majority feels the opposite? One can say that if it is the inside that matters to me, you would think that there would be others too. I don't have to look any further than my family and friends, they like me just as much as before, no difference there. But they also knew me before. So one can say that if people (and this is not just about men but people in general) that Lymphedema doesn't change anything, but is that completely true now? Yes and no, there will be people for whom it means nothing and there will be people who will run a mile and then one could say that “they are not worth it then,” but then I say “so what” - it is still me being left with a kick in the stomach and it doesn't really help thinking that they were the "bad guys".
Anyway, enough whining for one day, I will try to spare you in future posts. This blog is not meant to be complaining only.
It is a long process getting used to being “sick”. Not only physically, but at least as much psycologically.
Posted by LymphedemaGirl at 08:02