266.4 Part 2

Wow.  266.4. Not only was that the title of my second blog post, but it was also my weight.  At the time.  Within a year, that number would rise to 278.  Thanks, in part, to steroids.  Talk about feeling like you are fighting a hopeless battle.  Actually, I recall just throwing my arms up, going to the store and buying the biggest pair of jeans I have ever bought in my life.  There could be a mental block here, but I think they were a 22W or a 24W.  Have I ever expressed my dislike for the "W" that follows these "WOMAN'S PLUS SIZE" sizes?  You know, like we really need to see a big fat "W" after the double digits.  I know, WIDE.  Perfect. Let me just tell you, the first time I can fit into anything under a size 16, I a going to leave on EVERY label; even the long sticker they put on one leg.  And then I will leave the house and parade my Non-W ass around town.  Yup.  In the words of my children, I sure as heck will!  In fact, I may swipe a couple stickers from other same-sized jeans so I can slap them all over.  One for each thigh, front AND back!  You betcha!

For a long time, I danced between 275 and 278.  Hoping with everything that I would NEVER see 280.  Exercise was out of the question.  First of all, I couldn't move.  Stiff achy joints combined with 278 make things difficult.  And honestly, I was, well, caught up in a catch 22 for a bit.  At that time, all I had control over was what I put in my mouth.  I knew and know that I am supposed to eat small, frequent snacks/meals (6 times per day).  First of all, I barely ate 2x per day.  I can hear the gasps of disbelief.  But it is true. Fat doesn't always mean over-eater.  I am also supposed to steer clear of carbs (I have PCOS).  And like every mother, I was busy.  And completely overwhelmed and fighting transitions we were encountering as I struggled, along with several doctors to figure out what on earth was happening to me.

The dust is starting to settle and I am beginning to find some sort of normal.  I am starting to settle to, I guess.  Not a depressing settle.  Maybe that is the wrong expression.  Especially for me.  I have never settled.  Could the right word, possibly, be...accept?  Adapt?  I don't know.  But life is different now and we are all rolling with it as best as we can.  What has settled over me/our home is a sense of calm. We are more in control of our time than ever before. And I find that we are terribly protective of it. It's kind of nice.

The meds I hate to take so much, have helped in more ways than one.  I have to eat with them, or I have a VERY angry belly.  So, I do.  I am half way to my 6x per day.  I saw a nutritionist and we made a plan.  In October.  It is now December.  It is a great plan.  However, I have yet to implement that great plan.  Considering what November was like for us in this house, I won't beat myself up over it.

But guess what?  That eating, just 3 times each day...did something.  Because, the other day, at the doctor;s office...I weighed in at 250!  How come there are no CAPS for 250?  Steroids and all.  I weigh less than that original 266.4 that inspired this blog.

I cannot wait to go to the docs one day, soon, step on that scale again and have them NOT have to move that weight block thingy past 200.  They are always kind and start it out at 150...and I always laugh and thank them for the vote of confidence, even though I am sure it is part of their training to do so ;0)

For one week, I am going to once again attempt to make a small change.  I am going to increase my water intake.  I know...I've said it before.  But it's one week.  I CAN DO THIS!  I just proved to myself that small changes can make for a BIG difference.  266.4.  250 :0)

K.M.A. RA & Fibromyalgia!

If you have been following all along, you know that the original idea for this blog came out of some encouragement from a few friends and the unexpected shock when I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror at a store.  My very large self.  I wanted to write out everything that I, as a fat person, felt.  I knew that I wasn't alone and wanted to be free of the emotional and mental weight.  I wanted to reach out to the many different shaped and sized out there and help free them from that isolated space we all lock ourselves into.

Never tell God your plans.  He will laugh terribly hard.  Prior to that fantastic plan I had, I was pretty sick.  And I have never fully recouped from that.  It has taken nearly two years for it to be discovered that I have fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis.  Together.  I was knocked on my ass so hard I seriously didn't know what hit me.  Doctor's were scratching their heads as test after test came back "normal".  In the meantime, I was not functioning well at all. The only people who really knew what was going on were a select few.  How the docs finally came to the diagnosis is a long story.  It doesn't matter.  I have it and there are plans in place to deal with it.  I am finally on board and no longer in denial.  I do my research and actually search for information (in the past, I wouldn't.  Didn't think I had the right to without a proper diagnosis.).

My story is not over.  Yesterday I had a discussion with my rheumatologist about exercise and when I can expect to push harder.  He tells me that the weight loss is going to be tough because of the limitations the two diseases can cause, not to mention the steroids (I have a love-hate relationship with those damn things!).  In that moment, it occurred to me that I am NOT alone in this.  There has to be, just as when I was just fat, many out there in my situation.  I am back in the game.  My story is far from over. 

I plan on beating the living hell out of RA & fibromyalsia, just as they did to me.  Recently, someone told me I am a fighter.  I am, damn it.  In every other aspect of my life, I am a damn good fighter.  I've been given some tools to fight this and there is a lot that is left up to me.  Just as I NEVER called in sick to work and almost ALWAYS tried to go on and continue as though everything was normal when, really it wasn't, I will fight this with all I have.  I know there is nothing I can do to make it go away, but I can make it cower daily.

For those who have ever or do doubt my strength(largely myself!), this is who I am.  I am the mother of three and caregiver to many, old and young that ignored symptoms that shouldn't have been ignored.  Until the day I was taken into the hospital.  Even then, I fought being there.  I had things to do. I refused to give up commitments because I didn't want to let anyone down.  I refused to let on how bad I was feeling.  I am the wife who laid in bed after making it through the day with a jerking body because my kidney(s) would spasm so badly with infection.  When I would finally walk (crooked) into the doctor's office, they gave me shots of tramadol.  At least 9 times I went through this.  During one of these infections, I crawled through Darien Lake for an entire weekend, refusing a wheel chair.  I had fevers, pain, extreme fatigue.  When I say crawled, I am not exaggerating. Thank God for the stroller that supported me.  I made it through organizing parties down to the tiniest detail, holidays at our home and would immediately be down for 3 days or more after.  I NEVER called in sick.  I dragged myself, again, through an amusement park on feet so swollen they almost didn't fit into my shoes.  I refused to let my children down.  I get angry at the idea of having to go into the hospital because I don't want to be pinned down for anything minor.  My thought is, it better be pretty bad, or I am not going in.  Often I struggle with the idea of having to call something in.

And so now it occurs to me,I have to fight this weight thing like I fight these damn symptoms that should have had me laid out and resting.  It won't be easy.  But if I can push through an amusement park with a fever and kidney spasms, why can't I push through a walk up our road?  Eye if the tiger, baby.  All the doctor had to do was tell me it would be a challenge.  I am ready.

I am ready for proper nutrition and rest.  Proper exercise and healing. Every inch that is blasted, is an inch RA & fibro doesn't get to latch on to. There will be setbacks.  I have leaned that.  But they will be temporary.  Shortened lifespan.  Yep.  It will be the healthiest one if that's the way it has to be.  Kiss.My.Ass. RA & Fibromyalsia!

Success!

Yes! A major hurtle today! It is 11am and I have finished working out for the day! I almost gave into the laundry, dishes and anything else that I have to accomplish daily. And guess what? All the dishes and laundry are still there waiting for me. They are always waiting for me. They are, perhaps, more loyal than my puppies.

I could not sit here and write about another inevitable obstacle. I already established that we are busy. The focus remains on how to deal with obstacles as they arise. I already informed the hubby last night that he was gonna have to deal with the yard work this year (I usually do it because I feel I am at home and should) on his own. I simply told him that he can have himself a real nice piece of arm candy and so much more, if only I could find more time for myself.

Time. Something so precious and taken for granted. I can't help but sit here and wonder how many things in life I have missed out on because I was so uncomfortable in my own body. Too tired, too embarrassed. It's not like I sat in a corner. I had fun ( I am the first one to poke fun at my own short comings. Just to put them out there.). But I did limit myself. I actually took, stole, time from myself by not giving it to myself to begin with. Ironic. There were times I found myself making excuses not to go somewhere just because the thought of having to dress this mess and make it look good was too much. Often too depressing as well.

I have never been considered ugly, by any means. I am still told that I am beautiful. Yeah, yeah...I know, I've got great eyes too. I've heard it enough to know that there must be some truth to it. But, oh the ugly fat. I know my husband loves me, no matter what, and my children too. But it is so unbelievably hard to understand that under all this guilt and disgust. The way I look, the weight, is something that is on my mind ALL THE TIME! It never leaves my side. I guess you could say those thoughts are as loyal as my laundry and dishes! It is forever nagging me, reminding me of how imperfect I am, how I have failed myself. How my husband deserves better, my children and of course myself. The let downs, the underwear I wish I could wear again, but won't. Simply because I think you just shouldn't after a certain weight and of course, they could get lost! There is just not enough material! Seriously though, it is a hard reality to have on your mind all day, every day. I know that everybody has something imperfect about themselves, but big, fat, overweight, obese, or whatever you want to call us people wear it every day, for everyone to see. There is no hiding it. It is not something we can battle privately without the world knowing about it. Which is what can make taking on that battle such a daunting task. If we aren't successful, everybody knows and we have to deal with, not only failing ourselves, but everyone knowing we failed.

This is why this blog is important to me. I have been fortunate in my life to know what being thin was without worry and now, for sometime I have known fat. I think it is important to acknowledge how it is that I got here and to share it with you honestly. I know how scary it can be to hold so much in. How alone it can be. As much as I want peace for myself, I want it for everyone struggling as well. Time is precious and we should all enjoy it while we can, because we can. So, go and enjoy~