bethk wrote:Oh, my.....you can tell by the pic of the scones how tender & 'fall-apart' they are. I love a good scone, but I don't make them often because I end up eating them all....all at one time, more than likely! ((Shame on me......))
I love 'em, too, Beth, as does Brian. He MIGHT have two and I usually easily put away three! And then I'd better pick the rest up and put them away or I'll keep nibbling on them every time I pass the kitchen island! It's amazing I don't gain weight but I'm pretty good at "making up" for a bad day with a couple of good days -- I try to look at a whole week and then try to make up my bad days with good days before the week is up.
I lost so much weight last year that my cardiologist who treats me for my pulmonary hypertension was worried; I told her I wasn't TRYING to lose weight but of course she told me it didn't matter. But I managed to put the weight back on (THAT was fun for a change, trust me) and now I only waver usually 2 lbs. either above or below a weight she's okay with. Though they weigh me in every single visit, both she and her staff failed to notice over a period of time how much weight I'd lost so she realized and told me right away that she'd been overdosing my PH intravenous medication. I doubt that will ever happen again as I said flatly, "Well, I didn't feel the need to say anything since I get weighed every single appointment before they show me to the exam room." Brian was seriously ticked off at the overdosing 'cause it went on for quite a while but she's a really good doctor (she literally saved my life when I was dying from respiratory distress prior to my PH diagnosis). I told him to get over it as everyone makes a mistake and now I know I should mention it as well. He got over it, as he really likes her and she really likes him, too.
Everyone fell in love with Brian when I was out of it in the ICU for 2+ weeks and they thought I was dying. Along the way, Brian was told I would die without first, a heart transplant, and then it became a heart and double lung transplant. I was told he never left my bedside except to go home every few days to take a shower, change his clothes and get some food other than the hospital crapola. He'd sleep on the padded long bench they had in my room every night (poor heart with his very bad back). By the time I came around and was awake again (in ICU in a different hospital from the one we'd gone to when my heart went into arrhythmia and in restraints 'cause I had been pulling everything out of me and kicking at the staff!), all the nurses and doctors knew Brian well and they were all in love with him. One nurse even got choked up telling me she wanted me to know how much he loved me. I was sobbing before she finished! The really good end result is I'M STILL ALIVE!!!