Monday, October 26, 2015

A quick hot lunch: one oniony, peppery hot roast beef sandwich coming right up

1.  Add one generous tablespoon of Worchester sauce to a can of Campbell’s French Onion Soup & simmer in saucepan (don’t add any water).
2.  Throw some Ore-Ida Country Style French fries in the oven.
3.  Place 3-4 slices of deli roast beef into a crusty hoagie roll, cover with 2 circles of provolone cheese.  When the fries are almost done cooking, reduce the temperature to 400F & put your sandwich in the oven with them for the final 3-4 minutes.
4.  Take out the sandwich & fries; that roll will be crispy on top & the provolone completely melted.  Generously spoon several tablespoons of that delicious hot soup mixture into the roll (& maybe drizzle a little on those country fries while you’re at it)!
5.  Top the hot sandwich with some mild pepper rings.


Sunday, October 18, 2015

You want the truth? Okay here it is--I couldn’t handle the truth


This is me on May 25, 2015.  I’m only sharing it here because of a few messages I’ve gotten in the last couple weeks. Here’s one from just a couple hours ago:

Keep going, you won’t believe the difference 10 pounds makes!

They’re referring to the weekly weight chart I posted on August 21, where I’ve yet to hit the 10 lb. mark. But here’s the truth: I DID hit it—a few days before I posted that chart. Y’see, this (latest) weight loss battle didn’t begin in August, it actually started May 25, Memorial Day.

Since leaving my job in December, I’d gone kind of overboard with delicacies like bacon, lemon cake & butter pecan ice cream. So I was all prepared to go into summer with a newfound resolve to tackle this weight issue for real.

263 with camera
What I WASN’T prepared for was those scales when I climbed aboard. My God, I weighed almost 263 pounds! I decided not to do an online weight chart blog, I was just too embarrassed.

Holding my clunky camera on the scale only made things worse

But I DID spend the next couple months losing some of those pounds—no more big breakfasts every day of the week, no more bacon PERIOD. Get outside, walk everyday rain or shine. 10-11 weeks later, I’d dropped 11 lbs & that’s when I decided to begin posting my weekly weigh-ins here. 

dugs rigatoni
I’m still enjoying foods like rigatoni, but not like before where I’d add a pound of ground beef & gobble down a couple plates of it; now I use 1/4 the meat, double the tomatoes & eat a dark green salad with everything. I’m hooked on romaine lettuce & spinach leaves!

The thing is, I KNOW I have to lose weight but I don’t want to do it thru low-carb diets, cabbage soup, Dr. Oz supplements or programs like Weight Watchers. Here’s what my own Sun-Thurs plan boils down to:
  • No more gorging until it “hurts so good”
  • Foods like hamburgers, pizza & ice cream are Friday & Saturday only  
  • 50 sit-ups every night—well, 4-5 days a week
  • Two glasses of ice water every evening
  • NO EATING AFTER 5 pm.  That’s what the ice water is for!


Here’s some “healthy cookies” I baked yesterday; 2 cups oats, 2 bananas, 1/3 cup applesauce, 1/4 cup almond milk, 1/2 cup raisins, 1 tsp cinammon, 1 tsp vanilla. Drop rounded teaspoons onto baking sheet & bake for 15-20 minutes at 350F.

(Warning—these are an acquired taste…)

I’m sure lots of people have their own ideas, and I bet some of ‘em would love to tell me why my plan isn’t healthy or good enough. I just know that I’m comfortable with what I’m doing, and it seems to be working—for now, at least.

Since August 21 I’ve lost close to 9 lbs, and since May 25 I’ve lost 20. I’m getting there!


Thursday, October 1, 2015

Some warm n’ fuzzy thoughts on a Thursday afternoon (from a doped up Doug)

I know it’s been awhile since my last blog, but this sure wasn’t what I had in mind for my next one.  In a nutshell, I’ve been out of the swing of things for the month of September (feeling glum about stuff in general, that’s all).  And then this past week, I got a real surprise.

After an uneventful day, I’d gone to bed Monday night around midnight or so… an hour or so later I woke up with a start, feeling like someone had just punched me in my right kidney.  Did I injure myself somehow in my sleep?  I got out of bed & paced back & forth, trying to figure out why my right side was on fire, hoping I could “walk it off”.  As it got progressively worse, I knew I was in trouble.  Wishing now I hadn’t done it, I called my sister Shawn at 2:30am to let her know I was preparing to go to the hospital, then I dialed 911.  Five minutes later, I was being strapped into a gurney and being loaded into an ambulance.

I was rushed to UPMC Mercy Hospital (I think my cries of pain speeded that driver along some).  They rolled me into one of their ER cubbyholes & began drawing blood from one arm while inserting an IV drip into the other, peeling off my clothes and taping various heart monitor discs on my chest and legs, all while trying to gather some basic information.  I was feeling pretty special, there must’ve been 5-6 medical people around my bed.  In the doorway stood the two medics who got me there and I heard one say “I bet he has kidney stones.”   (I suspected the same thing, I’ve never experienced this much pain in my life.)

A doctor approached my bedside, said “we need to do a CT scan but first we’re going to make you more comfortable okay?”  She motioned to a nurse and softly said “hydromophone”.  A few minutes later as my head began swimming, and the stabbing pains were reduced to boxing glove punches, I almost wept as I thanked the nurse still with me.  An hour & CT scan later, they told me it was kidney stones.  “Mr. Morris, you should know this isn’t the only one, you have several.  You’re currently dealing with one that’s traveling thru your ureter on it’s way to the bladder.”  um, okay!

I was sent home with a week’s supply of Percocet (Oxycodone), a month’s supply of Flomax (Tamsulosin, to help me pee) & a popcorn-size tub of industrial-strength ibuprofen.  And for the last couple days, I’ve been sitting here in a dopey haze, chugging water and stumbling into the bathroom every hour or so to pee my cares away—and hopefully some rock formations while I’m at it.

(As long as I’m blathering on, I want to thank my friend Elisa, who didn’t flinch when I called her from the hospital at 6:30am & asked if she could take me home.  Along the way, I told her I was going to be sick and she swerved to the side of the road to let me do my business while murmuring “there there… puke your guts out… not on my car… not on my car…”   Haha, thank you Elisa!)

Y‘know, I got away with avoiding doctors and pills and hospitals for the last dozen years, but why do I have a feeling that’s about to end?  The writing’s on the wall.on the wall