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A Little Speedblogging

rice beansI haven’t been around here much but I wanted to do some catch-up blogging before tonight’s Biggest Loser. Why haven’t I been around? Because I’ve been teaching like CRAZY – a blog class (!) and then two writing classes, all of which are fantastic but which are taking up huge gobs of time.

But all is well. I’m exercising, going to Nia, running, weight lifting. I’ve gone to a lot of doctor appointments. Cardiologist and endocrinologist are both very very happy – my cholesterol is GREAT now that I am taking a bit of statin. Which I resisted mightily but has actually been fine. I am happy with that.  My A1C (for those who know and care about such things) is 5.9 which made me happy even with all the prednisone I took in July.

Also been to OBGYN because even though I am 50 and allegedly menopausal, I have had the world’s most relentless periods. First every 3 weeks (too short) then every two weeks (huh?) then every week and now I have about 48 hours break before it all starts up again. It’s not good. Trying to get to the bottom of it. So, I feel like I’ve been getting my blood drawn every five minutes and it’s all good except for that one thing. Argh.

I wanted to do a big blog post about WW’s “Lose for Good” campaign which involves donating food to food banks etc. which corresponds with our weight loss. I went out and bought 31 lbs of rice and beans. I was going to ceremoniously wear it on my body to one of the WW Meetings, and then peel it off but after putting on about 12 lbs it was SO SO damn uncomfortable I couldn’t bear it. I actually couldn’t believe that I could barely haul that stuff around in a grocery bag. I piled it on the table. Can you see? It’s BIG. But not only did it show me the big pile of 31 lbs, but when I picked up the little one or two lb bags, those were not insignificant either. And it showed me, than when I am “up” 3-4 lbs, I can feel that bulk’s extra on me.

I’ve been continuing my birthday revelry, over one month past birthday. Today a friend took me to breakfast at this favorite spot. They have this mega decadent soft polenta with melted cheese. Which is like my favorite thing ever. Normally I would snarf down this big bowl and feel ILL but today I had three beautiful large spoonfuls and that was like heaven. Just enough. SO so good.

Dinner’s about to burn without me so I’m going to stop here but this is what I’ve been up to. Next, BL, in one hour!

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Blindsided

So it happened again today. I went blithely into my cardiologist’s office, practically SKIPPING because I was so over-the-moon proud and happy about my weight loss, my lowered triglycerices, my NORMAL BMI, my fantastic A1C levels — and while he was duly impressed (or at least acted sort of impressed), he zeroed right in on my cholesterol levels.  They’re like borderline high. My “good” cholesterol, HDL, is not quite high enough, and it has not budged an iota in four months, despite exercise and weight loss, etc.

He said, “I want to put you on a statin.”

He was just going by his medical protocol, but for me it was great clanging alarm bells and red lights and “YOU FAILED!!!!!!!!!!!”

Once again, I left a medical appointment, sat in my car and cried.

I called my physician husband and he gave me all sorts of pats on the back (vebally) and validation and explained the lunkheaded ways of doctors, and I still cried.

I felt once again like I was five years old and was getting a finger wagged at me, you know that old “NOT GOOD ENOUGH” voice.

Bleh! Feh! UGH!

He (husband) also gently reminded me that perhaps I had had unrealistic expectations, ie that by “doing good” (and you all KNOW the good I’ve been doing!!) I would be able to outrun all my diagnoses, throw away all medications, etc. Instead, I got MORE medication. It just feels like failure to me. I know I have to turn my head around. I am not the kind of person who shuns medication at ALL, I just wasn’t ready for MORE. I was at peace with what I was already taking, but I felt like I was going in a good direction and I was going to be rewarded for that somehow.

I’m probably going to have to take insulin one day. I am probably more prepared for that eventuality than I was for the statin. Ugh.

Better! Better! Better!

I just got a call with my lab test results. It’s only been a month since my first wake-up call lab tests. And while my numbers are not IDEAL, they are much much much better.

I am particularly proud of my triglycerides. Normal is less than 150. A month ago, they measured 240. 😦 And yesterday, they were 185. I am so definitely moving in the right direction.

My blood sugar was 110.  Moving further and further away from that diagnosis, YAY. I feel confident that if I keep this up, my numbers will be absolutely, completely normal.

Wake-Up Call

I thought about starting this blog a few days ago. I set it up yesterday. During this time, the things I imagined I would write have changed dramatically.

On Thursday, two days ago, I went in to the lab to get some bloodwork done. This at the urging of my physician husband who has been “concerned” about my health. Which brought up huge Feelings in me, because I felt all resentful and indignant that he would be “concerned” about me when I am only about 20 lbs overweight rather than like 100 lbs overweight. It made me feel pathologized and messed up and criticized for nothing.

So that was one part of the whole complicated story. But this morning he came to me with the results in hand. They were not good. Bottom line: my good cholesterol is too low, my bad cholesterol is too high, and I am 2 blood sugar points away from being officially diabetic. (123, and diabetic is 125)

Last time I got these measured I was about 10 lbs less, and was exercising more and doing a modified sort of South Beach thing.

But somewhere in the year or two since then, I started having this “fuck it” attitude and angry about having to change or modify or restrict my diet. The weight came back and well, here I am.

It’s hard. It’s hard. But I think I have sufficiently woken up.

Two of my favorite TV shows are “The Biggest Loser” and “Top Chef.” Ha. SO what does that say?

My lifelong “relationship” with food and my body have been SO fraught, and complicated, and struggly. I started this blog in order to help deal with the struggles.

Please please do not give me  diet advice. I am hoping that people who read this blog will be able to relate to my struggles on some level, and there can be some solidarity, and some way to deal with all of it.

SO here I am. Two days ago, I was all defiant and resentful. Today I am staring that 123 number in the face. I can’t forget the expression he had when he pointed to that number and said, “You were fasting? Really?” And the way his shoulders slumped when I nodded.

I also think I sort of came to this myself, a little bit. On Tuesday I was supposed to write, but had to put it off until the afternoon. My lunch included a lot of (white) rice. In the afternoon I was so tired and out of it I couldn’t even think. I was going to joke that this is what my husband calls “Postprandial Fatigue.” I googled PPF and realized one, it fit my description perfectly and two, that it is a #1 symptom of Metabolic Syndrome, which is what I guess I have. It sort of stunned me because I thought PPF happened to EVERYbody, including normal people. But apparently not. I’ve been mulling on that one for the past few days too.

When I was pregnant with my 2nd daughter, I got gestational diabetes (which puts one at risk for regular diabetes later; I guess it is knocking at my door now). I was able to test my blood and to stop eating sugar like right away and it was no hardship because I was doing it for my baby’s sake.

I hope I am able to make good changes for my own sake now. But I can tell you it is going to be an emotional ride.

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