What does Joe Black eat?

I received a note from a reader this week, mostly appreciating what I didn’t have to say about Covid-19. But she did add, “tell us this—what does Joe Black eat?” 

Ooooh…I don’t know. Does anyone really want to know? Should I be worried? Can I be completely honest? How specific do I get?


OK. Here goes. Judge me as you will. But go back. Way back. 

For most of my life, I have followed what we were told was a heart healthy diet. Low fat. High carbs. Lots of fruit and vegetables. If anyone wanted to lose weight, they were told to avoid bread and potatoes (which maybe should have told us something).


About eight years ago, it was discovered that I had a significant level of atherosclerosis. Hardening of the arteries. Further testing indicated that my coronary arteries are probably doing their job so I’m not likely to have a heart attack but I will fight blood pressure issues for the rest of my life.


At about the same time, a friend of mine introduced me to research clearly indicating that we had it all wrong—that carbs were the culprit. And I was a carb-fed animal. Carbs for breakfast. Carbs for lunch. Carbs on my bike rides. More carbs with dinner. I ate but I was hungry all the time.


That friend also introduced me to Whole30, basically 30 days without carbs. I can tell you that for a couple of weeks, it wasn’t too bad. Then it hit me—it was tough. My energy levels were zero. My performance on the bicycle was awful. I got dropped in the parking lot.


But by the end of the 30 days, I felt pretty good. I lost weight. I wasn’t hungry all the time. My problems with hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) went away.


Don’t get me wrong…you can’t exist without carbs. As a biker, I need more than most, especially on a 3-4 hour ride. But it should be complex carbs. And you don’t need as much as you think. I will follow a low carb diet for the rest of my life. I am convinced it is the most heart-healthy approach out there.


And about that low fat. We now know that there are good fats and that a diet totally avoiding fats has problems of its own. We just have to seek out the good ones.


The other thing that I have changed is how I shop. I’ve always read labels but now what I’m looking for is simplicity. Most of the items in my grocery cart have one name, easily understood. Broccoli. Spinach. Salmon. Eggs. Milk. Various fruits. My friend, the late Sam Beall of Blackberry Farm, taught me why butter was better than margarine (check the ingredients). Simplicity.


So what is a typical Joe Black meal? It trends toward sameness. When I find something I like, I stick with it until I get tired of it. Here’s what I had yesterday.


Breakfast: Two eggs, almond milk, almond flour pancakes, maple syrup. Lunch: Chicken salad, carrots, fruit, coconut water. Dinner: Grilled chicken, asparagus, Jasmine rice, pumpkin pie.


I drink a Kombucha every day and snack on Pistachios. I have a distinct weakness for Benton’s bacon, Haagen-Dazs ice cream, Fritos, dark chocolate, and hot dogs with chili and slaw. A late night snack is likely to be tart cherry juice and a handful of Cheetos (don’t ask me to explain that one…I can’t). I believe that we need to enjoy our food and I’m not afraid of desserts.


I love good restaurants and avoid the chains. If the chef and the owner are the same person, that’s my kind of place. I love seafood of all kinds and a really great steak, cooked medium rare, is heavenly.


So, there you have it. I’m not going to try and tell you what to eat-I’m not a nutritionist. This is what works for me. Do your research and eat what’s right for you but avoid white sugar and white flour whatever you do. 

Your heart will thank you for it.

Noticing The Little Things

I will not write about Covid-19. I will not write about Covid-19. I will NOT write about Covid-19.

There. Got that out of my system. But since we aren’t doing much in the way of sports and this is the Sports Section, what’s left? What lessons can I teach? What wisdom can I impart?

Well, maybe not much. My world is very singular now. And most of my inspiration comes from experiences—things I do, see, or hear. Right now, my life is work, eat, sleep, repeat, so I’m finding far less inspiration.

So, I went outside. Sat out on the back of the building where I work, having a snack. The sky was what the meteorologists call “partly cloudy.” Not the big Cumulus clouds that you can use your imagination on. Plain, normal clouds. And a light breeze. A little cool. Perfect weather, really.

I’ve seen a rabbit in our parking lot for a while but while snacking, I saw the squirrel that had left signs that he was hereabouts. He was on the side of the one little Maple tree beside where I usually park for work. Twitchy as they all are, he didn’t like my presence. I was in his world.

When I stopped to look, I noticed birds everywhere. They didn’t seem to be practicing social distancing. My curiosity up, I walked down to the small creek that runs behind our office and splits the Maryville Little League Park.

It seems like I’ve been around that little creek for half my life, first with my kids playing ball on those fields and for nearly 20 years, in an office nearby. I never thought much about it. It was just someplace where kids liked to throw rocks and sometimes fall in.

I never thought of it as a life form but as I gazed into the waters, I noticed lots of life. 

So I took off my shoes and crept down into the creek. The water was cold but after I got used to it, I started exploring. I noticed tiny fish everywhere and several different kinds of aquatic plants. On close inspection, it was teeming with life. Never noticed any of that.

I stopped to listen and could hear the creek gurgling, the birds singing. It didn’t seem like there was as much road noise. Maybe traffic is down because people are staying home more. I could even hear kids playing nearby.

By now my senses were on full alert. I stopped, inhaled, and smelled…nothing. I’ve been in big cities and there is a constant odor, usually rather unpleasant. I grew up in an industrial town that smelled of rotten eggs.

But then I picked up just a hint of something sweet. Honeysuckle was in bloom not too far away and when I really focused, I could distinguish that particularly nice smell. Just because I’m an inquisitive sort, I put on the mask that I had in my pocket to see if it filtered the honeysuckle odor out. I was pleasantly surprised that it did not.

I looked at that little Maple that I’ve written about a few times. Just a stick when first planted, I would say it is now a teenager. One thing I like about it is how it reflects the seasons. Bare in winter. Budded in spring, full bloom in summer. Bright colors in fall. I try to make it a metaphor for life sometimes, but that’s just the poet in me. In all of us.

Is there a point to all this? Yes. Despite the pandemic, the sun will still shine. Regardless of the masks, there are smells to be smelled, sounds to be heard, wonders to be noticed.

I'm Positive That...

Coronavirus. Doom and gloom. Fear the Beast. I’ve done my part on the scare tactics. I’ve filled this space with warnings and dire predictions.


So what’s a guy to do? Shut out the world? Hide in the mountains until this is all over? I’ve just about quit watching the news—something about the body count (the number dead from the Coronavirus) that is just too much. It’s reminiscent of the news from the Vietnam era that I grew up in.


I can’t ignore the fact that it seems like a lot of people are just ignoring this thing, going on about their lives like there is nothing to be concerned about. Some people seem to have interpreted “Safer at Home” to mean “stores are open-let’s go shopping!”


Not a real threat? Look no further than the nursing home in nearby Etowah. Talk to the children of those nursing home residents in Maine or in Kentucky. Talk to anybody in New York City. 
I have a friend at a hospital in New Haven, Connecticut that last week was filled with Coronavirus patients. Literally filled. The threat is very real and is still out there.


Agree or not, we’re beginning the move back to some degree of normalcy, although I would insist that we’re going to find a “new normal” out there. Some things can never go back to the way they were. Stores, restaurants, and other non-essential businesses are opening although there are a lot of rules that must be followed. Masks, social distancing, and counting heads at the door will be the rule of business for most of the summer.


“Safer At Home” is no longer a mandate but is still a good idea. I saw a meme this week that said “I’m going to come out of this thing a Hunk, a Chunk, or a Drunk.” There’s a lot of truth in that.


There are obviously some negative coping mechanisms being employed. And believe me, you will employ coping mechanisms. You probably already are. But I would like to suggest that you seek out positive coping mechanisms.


Like exercise. You’ve got more free time. Take advantage of that. We also know that regular exercise will help keep you healthier and maybe make you less susceptible to the Coronavirus.


This should be a time to eat better. More time to plan meals. More time to cook. Although the lines at the fast food places are long, I think that’s just folks finally getting out and wanting something, anything that isn’t in their own freezer or cupboard.


Put away the digital devices and get to know your family better. Yeah, I said it. Mr. Hooked-to-his-phone. They’re great and I crave that FaceTime with the grandkids that I don’t get to be around but sitting in front of the computer or TV for hours on end is simply a bad idea. Find alternatives.


Sleep more. I know I have. Not getting enough sleep is probably my biggest health mistake. There isn’t a study out there (that I’ve been able to find) that tells you anything but that you should get adequate sleep. Like 7-9 hours.


Get in touch with important people in your life that you haven’t talked to in forever. Give them a call. Send them a note. Tell them what they mean to you. That book you’ve been wanting to finally read? Now’s the time.


Work in the dirt. It helps. Plants something. Anything. Then watch it grow. There are few things more satisfying that being able to eat straight from your own garden. Whatever you do, look for the positives. 

Or wake me when this thing is over.

The Beast is Still With Us

Just this week, Governor Lee announced that the Safer At Home order will expire on April 30^th, allowing the reopening of businesses across the state. This will be a “phased reopening,” details of which are steadily emerging.


I don’t expect schools to reopen and the spring sports seasons have already been abandoned. There is lots of speculation about fall sports. I think we just need to wait and see. But things will be changed. Lots of folks will be reluctant to get in the middle of a crowd of people for a long time.


This doesn’t mean that we’ve beat this thing. We haven’t. The things we’ve done (hand washing, social distancing, businesses closing) have just slowed it down. Slowed it down so that hospitals could prepare. Slowed it down so that hospitals wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the huge surge in Coronavirus cases that has happened all around the globe.


As the world has dealt with this pandemic, we have learned a few things. We have learned that it has hit hardest in densely populated areas. We have learned that it is most dangerous for those that are physically or medically vulnerable.


I must say that I’m SO proud of our local hospital for the rapid preparations that they made to get ready. And I’m equally proud of our community that stepped up to help the hospital prepare and to help their neighbors. Stories of food sharing and drive by birthday parties abound.


The Governor weighed the need for getting people back on the job with the impact on our healthcare delivery system and potential risk for those affected by the Coronavirus. It’s not an easy decision and there are passionate folks on both sides of the discussion. I’m not here to take sides or to convince you that either side is right or wrong. People are hurting. Now is not the time to judge.


But here’s the thing—you can expect an increase in the cases, and yes, the deaths, from Coronavirus as rules are relaxed. That’s anticipated. That’s why it is SO important that we continue to follow all the guidelines that we’ve been under for the past few weeks.


We need to continue to wash our hands and keep our hands out of our mouths. We need to continue to practice social distancing. I expect those “non-essential” businesses to follow the same rules that the essential businesses have been following: Limiting the number of people admitted to a business, marking the floor at check-out lanes to ensure proper distancing, and providing screens between checkers and customers.


It’s easy to get complacent, as the number of new cases dwindles. Instead of assuming the worst is past, we should understand that this beast is still out there. I see far too many people not doing what they are supposed to. That’s a mistake. This thing is a monster. Talk to anyone in New York City.


I see young people that feel they are invulnerable and who ignore all the precautions.  Yes, it’s true that young healthy people will not likely die from this. But they can carry it to the old, the young, the weak. This thing is as sinister as anything we have faced in healthcare.


Those at risk should still stay at home. Those most vulnerable are our oldest, our youngest, those that are immunosuppressed, those with asthma, COPD, or other lung problems. Those with diabetes. Those with any medical conditions that compromise their ability to fight off disease.  STAY HOME!


The rest of us--respect others by wearing a mask in public places. Avoid crowds. It’s not yet time to return to stadiums or church pews. The best advice I’ve had is to pretend that you have it and do the things necessary to avoid passing it on to someone else. And pretend that everyone you encounter has it and do what you need to do to protect yourself. You never know.

TeleHealth Today

I struggled this week to find anything to write about that was NOT about the Coronavirus. That’s all anyone is talking about. In healthcare, it dominates every waking thought.


Something that you’re probably hearing more and more about is Telehealth. It has been around before we had ever heard about Covid-19, but this pandemic has certainly brought it to the public consciousness.


What is Telehealth? Most simply put, it is the delivery of healthcare when the provider and the patient are in different locations, usually using a computer or a cell phone to communicate.


Before Covid-19, it was most often discussed in really remote locations. Colleagues in Montana, where lots of people live many miles from the nearest neighbor and even further from health care providers, have been doing Telehealth for years.


It has been addressed in the Tennessee legislature in the past and would likely have come up this year if the legislature hadn’t been sent home early. Fortunately, Governor Lee has relaxed restrictions on Telehealth and opened doors that needed to be opened.


The Coronavirus pandemic has brought Telehealth up to an all new level. It has become an essential part of healthcare delivery. It is allowing those most vulnerable among us to get the care that they need without having to leave the safety of their homes.   


There’s a good chance that your Primary Care Physician (PCP) is utilizing Telehealth. I know the orthopedists are. In some ways, it is the only way to deliver much needed medical care. In physical therapy, we are using it to follow up with patients who can no longer come to our offices and to work with new patients without ever being in the same physical location as them.


Please understand that this is still healthcare and there is a charge for the service. For many practitioners, it is their only source of income. The state and federal governments have changed the rules about Telehealth reimbursement and there’s a good chance that your insurance will pay for Telehealth services.


On a different note, I saw something this week that resonated with me. This writer was asking people to be less judgmental. It hit home when someone I know was being critical of a man getting mulch at the local garden store. She thought it was unnecessary and irresponsible.


But this writer had a different opinion. He said that guy getting mulch might be an alcoholic who is stuck at home and has to keep busy with yardwork to avoid a relapse. Or the lady buying flowers who suffers from depression and working in her flower garden is what keeps her safe and sane.


You see, we can’t judge others in all this. I really struggled with stopping bike riding with a group. It is one of the things that keep me sane during a time when the Coronavirus has taken away a lot of the other things that keep me sane. But my concern for others means I now ride alone. I have friends that are still doing the group rides and that’s OK. I refuse to judge them.


I caught myself yesterday judging a grandfather and his grandson. They were in a store where the employees had taken very few precautions—no masks, no social distancing. And yet they were there, walking together, without masks. I had to stop and remind myself not to judge them. Was the grandfather not concerned about exposing his grandson to Coronavirus? That was hard.


It all boils down to the fact that we just need to love each other. Respect each other. Walk in somebody’s shoes before you criticize. But please, please, please do your part to stop this thing.

It's Not About You

I’ve never been much of a worrier. Oh my mom was. If she didn’t have anything to worry about, she would worry that she didn’t have anything to worry about. I’m not that way. Almost to a fault.


I’m not afraid of much either. I’m not afraid of the dark. Not afraid of noises in the night. Not afraid to go into a strange neighborhood. I’m not really afraid of the Coronavirus either. Let me explain.


I’m in several at-risk categories. I’m 66. I’m a healthcare worker. I’m still working, out in the public every day, seeing patients and doing my job. The chances of me being a carrier are above average. Certainly above those that are quarantined, without contact with the rest of the world.


I do respect the Coronavirus—I just don’t fear it. Not for me personally. I may be a senior citizen but I’m in quite good shape, for a man my age. I’m getting more sleep than I have since I was a teenager. My blood pressure is under control. I’m eating well.


I’m not naïve and I’m not stupid, but I’m confident that my physical condition and health practices will help me if I did get Coronavirus and I’m confident that I will get the care that I need were I to be hospitalized. In the meantime, I have a job to do.


I’m doing my part to protect myself. I usually wash my hands often, before and after every patient. Now I’m adding in a squirt of hand sanitizer every time I pass a dispenser. Washing my hands whenever possible. I wear a mask when in the clinic and when I’m in a public place.


I practice social distancing. My desk has been moved so that I’m a good distance from anyone else. I’m giving more than the six feet of recommended space. I avoid other people except when absolutely necessary. It’s not impossible for me to get Coronavirus, but I am doing everything that I can to protect myself. I feel pretty good about my chances.


But that’s not what worries me (yes, I do worry a bit, sometimes). What worries me is that I will be a carrier without even knowing it and will give it to someone else. A patient. A coworker. A family member.


Because of that, I am completely isolated from my family. With a newborn in one household and two physician parents in the other, all risk needs to be minimized. And since I’m a possible carrier, despite all I’m doing, I stay away from all of them.


I’ve quit riding a bicycle in a group not for fear of being contaminated by someone else but for fear of being the reason someone else gets it. Let’s face it—being in healthcare means I am at risk, regardless of what I do. I accept that and go on. But I cannot allow myself to be the reason someone else gets it. I have a social and professional responsibility to protect others.


Now I’m going off on a rant…. Every day, I see people being very cavalier about this. People standing around talking without masks or social distancing. People sitting at a picnic table having lunch like there isn’t a raging pandemic out there. People wearing gloves and using that as an excuse not to wash their hands (folks, all you’re doing is carrying this stuff from one surface to the other and protecting no one).


If that’s you, if you aren’t washing your hands, keeping your hands out of your mouth, and practicing strict social distancing, WAKE UP! You may not be concerned about your own personal safety but what about others? Your grandmother, your infant niece, your immunosuppressed cousin that had cancer not that long ago, your friend with diabetes?


YOU have a responsibility to THEM. If you don’t think it will get you, that’s fine. I guess that’s your business. But don’t be the reason someone else gets it. We simply must put a stop to the spread of this disease. Before someone you know or love gets it.

The New Normal

The “New Normal.” If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a hundred times. Yes, we’re living in a different world right now. Our world will be forever changed because of this pandemic.

It will take the economy a long, long time to recover. There will be way too many bankruptcies. The hardest hit segment may be restaurants. It’s tragic but we will all survive.


So how do we work this New Normal to our advantage? How do we emerge better than before? How do we even begin to think in those terms when there really doesn’t appear to be a light at the end of the tunnel?


We learn how to deal with each other better. A lot of families are isolated at home. Some are quarantined.


By its very nature, this will force families to grow together and get to know each other better. Or just the opposite. Our daily structure and routines are completely turned upside down. Those of us (me included) that depend on that structure will struggle but will surely adapt. Or drown.


Like you, my whole lifestyle has been changed. My routine is work, ride a bike, sleep. Do it again. Avoid people. Shop for essentials only. Carryout is part of the New Normal. I’m inside my own brain more than anytime in my life. It’s scary in there sometimes.


We learn creative and productive ways to use our time. Ways that do not depend on being entertained. We have to learn to entertain ourselves. Restaurants and movies are closed. Amusement parks are shuttered. A lot of folks are reluctant to go to the grocery store so cooking at home has become rather creative.

We have had to learn to cook what is in our cupboard or freezer. Even if we venture out to the grocery, there’s no guarantee that what we want will be in stock.


We get closer. Not physically, at least not right now. Social distancing has ended the warm hug or firm handshake. But shared difficulties bring people together.


It has been amazing to see the outpouring of love that this community has demonstrated in the past couple of weeks. Churches feeding people. Others making masks and gowns for use by our hospital. Offers of running errands for others abound.


I saw where a local insurance agency sent a stack of pizzas to the BMH Emergency Department this week. Surely those folks, at the forefront of the crisis and heroes in every sense of the word, deserve it.


We learn to appreciate what we have. I now know what’s at the bottom of my freezer. I get virtually no time with my grandkids so cherish those FaceTIme moments and messages that they send me. I appreciate my health maybe more than ever.

We understand that we should always wash our hands and keep our hands away from our mouths. We understand that we have to do everything we can to keep from passing on this virus to others.

We discover that exercise, eating better, and getting enough sleep actually does make us healthier and help us feel better.


We learn what is really important to us. Family. Friends. Time together. Those hugs and handshakes. Real conversations. Our health. Freedom. Smiles. The little things.


We appreciate that problems on the other side of the world do have an impact on us. We truly are global now. It’s a cloudy, stormy day, but by looking for the silver lining, we have hope and faith that good days and better times will soon arrive.